I need a freaking doctor.
Something is seriously wrong with my head. Did I hit it or something? Possible brain damage from birth that didn't show up until now? I don't know what is happening to me, but I'm acting weird!
I don't date.
I don't do relationships.
I don't want a WAG, a partner, or any romance in my life.
Most girls are bloodsuckers and only out after your money. I know that, and I stay clear of the other gender.
I should focus on the game, focus on the goddamn football, and not fall for any distractions. And girls are fucking distractions!
Yes, I know this better than anyone.
So why am I as hard as a rock in the shower while thinking about kissing Michelle fucking Henriksson?????!!!!!
I punch the wall and groan at the pain. "FUCK!!!"
"Will you please keep it down?!" Jason's voice comes from the other side of the wall because, let's face it, we live in misery. Paper-thin walls and no fucking privacy. The frathouse is a goddamn joke and sometimes a running parody.
I groan, and Jason sighs. "Maddox, I've said it once, and I will say it again. Keep it down, will you? I'm trying to focus here."
I punch the wall. "No, I'm going through something!"
"Just wank it out already, amigo!" Jason shouts back. "You've been saying 'Michelle' over and over again, groaning and then not finishing your business. Just rub one out."
This fucking linebacker! I swear I will kill him, fucking kill him!
It doesn't matter that we are best friends—Jason is dead to me!
"Shut up, Deluca!" I growl back at the perverted idiot. "And stop listening through the wall like a creep!"
"I have a stomach ache... I can't leave the toilet even if I wanted to. There is no choice but to listen to your pathetic voice."
"This idiot..." I mutter to myself. "I can't do it now, thanks to you!"
"Because you're listening!"
"Go into your room and lock the door."
"I will, but not to masturbate!"
"Sure, amigo... And I will not look up Michelle Henriksson's online profile while you're not masturbating."
Jesus fucking Christ!
Why does Jason always have to be so goddamn annoying?! I could murder him and bury his body in the garden!
"DO NOT FUCKING LOOK HER UP!"
"Why, you shy or something, Maddox? Everyone wants to be with our heartbreaker quarterback, but you turn everyone down. I want to know your type, Maddox. Learn what makes you hard in the shower."
Hard in the shower?!
"Michelle is not my type!"
"Si, I don't know about that... You have been moaning her name for about forty minutes now, and I'm getting more and more convinced to name my own daughter Michelle..."
"Jason..." I hiss. "I. Will. Murder. You. In. Your. Sleep."
"Empty threats... Empty threats..."
"I'm being serious!"
"Oh, Michelle Henriksson is pretty darn cute... Rosy cheeks, yeah? Very delicate and small too. Ha-ha. You like that, Maddox? Who would have known—the guy actually has taste."
"I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU, DELUCA!"
Jason burst out laughing, and I grunt in annoyance. Some best friend he is—the dude needs to have his head evaluated if he thinks it's okay to listen to me masturbate AND look up my inspiration.
Jesus fucking Christ, I'm even admitting it myself.
There are way hotter girls than Michelle, yet all I see is her doe-eyes, sweet smile, and delicate hands.
Am I out of my damn mind?!
"GAH, I hate myself!"
I kick the wall and wrap myself in a towel. My cock is still painfully hard, and it's because I'm at odds with myself.
I can't finish myself off.
I have to resist it!
It feels wrong to touch myself while thinking about Michelle Henriksson of all freaking people. She doesn't even like me! That little thing is terrified of me, and not even a little! She couldn't sit still when I looked at her!
I angrily enter my room and throw myself down on my bed. My arm hangs down to the floor, and I sigh.
"I shouldn't text her... I know better than that... I do... But..."
I pick up my phone, breathing hard while staring at the screen.
This is so weird...
What am I doing?
I have only texted girls to tell them my address before a hookup. Other than that, I don't text with girls. I don't call them either. Neither do I date, yet I'm already typing a message to Michelle.
I can't believe this...
But I also can't stop myself.
Me: Don't stand me up tomorrow, Henriksson.
I watch the message turn to "seen" and feel like puking when I realize I'm actually smiling. FUCKING SMILING while texting a girl. Seriously, where did my balls go?
Michelle: You inserted your own number into my phone?
Who wouldn't? I can't risk Michelle standing me up again. I had to put in my number there... Not because I like her or anything, but to show male dominance! Yes!
There is no other reason!
Michelle: And your earlier words, is that a threat?
Is she serious?
Does Michelle honestly think everything I do is to scare other people? Like, sure, I think it's fun, but...
Me: Not a threat.
Michelle: You promise?
Me: Yes. Have a good night, Michelle.
I patiently wait for her response like a total sissy. It's been less than twenty-four hours, and I'm fucking whipped—after one kiss and her feeling up my muscles like I was hot shit.
I rake my fingers through my wet hair. "I'm such a loser..."
My phone vibrates, and my eyes find my screen like a hawk. I've never moved this fast in my entire life.
I unlock my screen and...
Michelle: Good night, Maddox.
My lips curl into this stupid smile, and then I smack myself straight in the face to knock it off.
"What the fuck is wrong with me?" I whisper with growing panic. "I need to see a therapist or something..."
I'm worried about my health. My heart is fluttering. My pulse is ticking against my jaw. There is a buzzing in my stomach, and I swear that isn't normal. Am I dying?"
Are these the warning signs of a heart attack?
I hope not.
I get underneath the covers and get comfortable. There is a new message from the pixie girl herself.
What could she want?
I click on the message with a weird feeling in my chest. My heart is thumping, which is so freaking weird.
Michelle: Thank you for driving me home today. I appreciate it. The rain came when you left, and I would have been drenched. It was very thoughtful of you.
That familiar flutter travels through me again, yet I accept it.
I might act like a hardass most of the time, but... I knew it was going to rain after checking the weather forecast. That's why I offered to drive the tiny one home.
But I'm not usually thoughtful, and Michelle better not expect me to act like it either...
I quickly type back a message.
Me: You're welcome.
I sigh heavily while tucking my phone underneath my pillow. "What is it with this girl that just makes me do stupid shit... Fuck... She does weird things to my head..."
Another groan leaves my lips. I'm about to have a headache. I don't know what is wrong with me, but I couldn't possibly be falling in love, right? Pfft. I'm Maddox. I'm cold as a rock, and the last thing this could be is the beginning of something.
Romance is for pussies.
Michelle I hate walking into the classroom every morning. I'm the quiet girl, and when that door opens, I got all eyes on me. The spotlight makes it harder to breathe. It's making my skin crawl. My heart beats faster, and even though there isn't straight-up laughter or name-calling like in high school, the silence speaks louder than volumes. I hate not having any friends. I hate not having any new clothes. I hate not being normal. I hate not being... Happy. I'm lonely, and it makes me feel vulnerable. Thomas definitely used that to his advantage when he... When he... Raped me. Tears prickle behind my eyes. I think I'm suffering from PTSD. Sometimes I experience flashes of Thomas's face and how he pushed me against that wall at the party. It makes me want to scream. But I refuse to cry. Don't ever look back. I keep my eyes down not to meet any of the sneers in the classroom. Stay strong. Breathe. Sadly, I can't ignore the whispers. The popular girls are already
Maddox The library is peaceful and serene. I'm here with Michelle and eating an apple while she is working on our project. Everything would be damn near perfect. IF ONLY THAT GLASSES-WEARING GUY WOULD STOP STEALING GLANCES AT HER! The bloke is sitting at his own table. Tie and slicked-back hair, all proper, with a nervous smile on his lips. He is undoubtedly in love with Michelle, and it bothers me. Who the fuck does he think he is staring at her like that?! Can't he see that Michelle is here with me? Michelle isn't my girlfriend. She will never be anything like that, and I'm DEFINITELY not jealous, but come on! That idiot better stop fucking staring at her! I move closer to Michelle while glaring at the other guy. I would be barking at him if I had been born as a rottweiler. "Uhh..." Michelle glances up at me. She seems uncomfortable, frightened by the proximity even. "W-why you sitting so close?" I narrow my eyes, muttering. "No reason." "Okay..." Michelle returns to ta
Michelle I'm running, and I manage to make it outside the library before tears run down my chin like rain. I wipe them away with a trembling hand and dry my cheeks with my sleeve. "I'm stupid, so fucking stupid for thinking Maddox could be nice!" I yell at myself and quicken my pace down the street. It's dark and scary, but I don't give a fuck. I'm so humiliated. Why would Maddox pick up the letter and read it out loud? Why would he do that to me? What the hell is wrong with him?! I don't understand. My heart is shattering. Of all the damn people to develop feelings for, why did it have to be that idiot?! He is a big, fucking bully! More tears crawl out of the corner of my eyes. I'm working up a sweat while sobbing in the dark. Maddox Daniels is a heartless jerk. I don't understand why the girls at campus love him so much! How could he possibly be popular?! Well, I do know—girls don't care about his cold-bloodedness. All they want is his looks and money. He is hot, but f
Maddox "Please just put me down..." Michelle begs. I'm still carrying her like a hunting trophy. She is seriously lightweight and needs to eat something. But the fact that I can handle her so easily kind of turns me on. What is wrong with my head? Michelle keeps squirming. "This is embarrassing! Please put me down! Maddox..." Embarrassing? Pfft! I don't give a fuck. I've glared at every fool who has stared at us, and not a single one has kept looking. This is fine. "We are almost by your apartment." "Maddox... P-please... Blood is rushing to my head..." A sigh escapes me. I don't do friends or girlfriends. Relationships aren't for me, yet I relent when the little thing begs me to put her down again. She is like a tiny little rabbit. Defenseless, and it does weird things to my brain. It shouldn't be legal for a girl of this stature to walk out alone... "Maddox..." "Fine," I grumble. I grab Michelle and put her down next to me. The fabric of her jacket slides up her flat st
Michelle I'm so out of place. I came to watch Maddox's football game but didn't realize the stadium would be so PACKED with people. My nerves are jittering around, and I'm close to puking. I've never once before went to one of these games. My heart is racing, and I think I might be sick AND broke. Stupid as I am, I bought the ticket with my own money, and now I'm surrounded by shouting and whistling fans. I didn't realize this game would be so huge. Outside the stadium, children were getting their faces painted. There is a freaking orchestra playing music, and I'm staring at some girls holding up these banderoles. It feels like I've stepped into a movie. A trio of good-looking blonde women with colors painted on their faces holds up this thing that says, "WE WANT MADDOX'S BABIES!!" I find that sickening to write since they don't know him. But maybe that kind of thing is normal to write? Further down, another says, "Jason, call me!!" Sighing, I sink into my seat. Maddox of
Michelle There is a jarring feeling in my heart. All I want is to continue kissing Maddox, but he slips me down from his muscular torso and proceeds to hug me from behind. The back of my head is faced with his broad chest. He is warm and big and runs his fingers through my hair. I shudder, and I think I hear him breathe a laugh. He continues to run those rough fingers over my scalp. It's sweet. It gives me butterflies. But it's all fake love. We are putting on a show for his parent or parents, and I fight tears when he carefully brushes my hair to the right side of my face. Down my collarbone while tilting his head. The gentleness is killing me. I glimpse up, and his relentless eyes find mine. He seems a bit irritated, but I have this notion it's an emotion reserved for his parents. "It's only my mom. My dad must have strolled back to the car or something," Maddox grunts. "I can see my mom walking here, though. Her name is Catharina, but everyone calls her Cath." My v
Michelle I don't belong at this fancy restaurant, and my only comfort is that Maddox doesn't fit in either. Not when he is wearing sweatpants and a hoodie—the only thing he had with him to the game. The rest of his stuff is in the back of his car. I eye his chest, and even though his muscles are hidden behind the fabric and some cheesy slogan from our college, they are still visible. Firm and snug. Maddox is in peak condition. My cheeks turn molten when his eyes catch me looking, and I stare at the floor instead. We finish our drinks in silence. There is no sign of our food, and the atmosphere is thick. Awkward. Tense. "They usually aren't this slow," Maddox comments. "Maybe they burned our food or something." "I bet it would still taste good even if they burnt it. I've never eaten at a classy dinner before. The chefs here could probably serve me dog shit, and I would still like it." Maddox chokes on his drink and laughs tears. "Did prim and proper Michelle just say the wor
Maddox Jason waltzes into the kitchen and gasps. "Are you making homemade chocolates?" I'm wearing a pink apron and mixing brown stuff—what else would I be making?! There are forms on the table! "Dude, are you blind? Because it ain't fucking dog shit I'm melting and mixing on the stove." Jason slowly blinks, and I wonder if he is hungover or has an itchy eye or something. "Are they... For a girl?" I continue stirring. "Uh, yes? I'm sure as hell not giving these to you or anyone else on the football team." "Huh," Jason smiles like the dumb, tall idiot he is. "I'm happy for you. You and Michelle are finally dating—it was about damn time." I almost choke and spit out the water I'm drinking. "Dating?! We ain't dating! We are friends." "Wait. You're making homemade chocolates for a friend... Who is a girl... And you're not dating?" "Yes, and yes," I shake my head at Jason. I don't understand his deal or why he is staring at me. "When did you become such a detective? I read that g