“They’re ruined,” I say. “I can wear my gym clothes.”
“Fuck that,” he snaps. “You’re not wearing clothes from the trash.”
“It’s fine,” I assure him, pulling away to pick up my shoes from where the girls dropped them when they were stripping me. I grab my backpack before returning to him, laying a hand on his chest and trying not to feel how hot his bare skin is, how smooth and masculine. “Really. Come on. You’ve done enough. You need to get back to practice.”
He frowns down at me a moment, then nods and takes my hand, leading me out of the locker room. His grip completely swallows my small fingers. When the door falls shut behind us, the noise of the gym quickly replaces the stifling silence. A couple guys whistle, clap, or laugh, when they see me still in Maddox’s shirt, but it’s the sort of good-natured ribbing that makes me blush because I know they’re admiring the view, not disgusted by me. Maddox silences them with one glower before turning back to me.
“I could have had Scarlet give you her clothes.”
I shrug. “They wouldn’t fit. She’s curvier than me.”
His gaze flickers to my chest, and I’m suddenly aware that it’s cold enough that my nipples are peaked against the fabric of his thin shirt. That explains the guys cheering when they saw me.
“Go sit in the bleachers,” he says gruffly, releasing my hand and giving me a little push in that direction. “You missed your bus. I’ll take you home after practice.”
I don’t argue. Mom doesn’t drive and Lee’s at work, and he’d be pissed as hell if he had to swing by and pick me up in his squad car.
I head to the bleachers and pull out my homework. Whatever moment passed between me and Maddox, it did exactly that—passed. Still, I try to figure him out as I sit there in his oversized shirt. Ninety percent of the time, he seems to hate me. But whenever I’m in trouble, he doesn’t hesitate to step in and protect me, even to dole out justice. I decide it’s just neighborhood loyalty. Like Lennox told me that first day at the pool, their Murder of Crows is like a Neighborhood Watch. Maddox would look out for anyone from Mill. He feels some crew obligation to stand up for me, even if he doesn’t like me.
An hour later, Lexi comes in and sees me and climbs up the bleachers to sit beside me. I quickly close my composition notebook, where I’m planning out my next short story, and tuck it into my backpack.
Lexi drops her heavy backpack onto the bench seat below us and blows a strand of hair out of her eyes. It settles right back in the same place. “Hey, ho,” she says. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for a ride.”
“Same, same,” she says, bracing her Chucks on either side of her backpack. “Billy’s my ride. You going home with Maddox?”
“He’s giving me a ride,” I say, not liking the connotation in her words.
She grins. “You hit that yet?”
“What?”
She rolls her eyes. “Maddox. He’s fine as hell, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
I smooth the notebook on my knees and mumble, “He’s okay, I guess. If you’re into jacked up assholes.”
Lexi laughs. “Lennox then?”
“What about him?”
She rolls her eyes again. “If you’re not fucking Maddox, that means you’re not fucking both of them, which means you’re fucking Lennox. Which, if you’re not into jacked up assholes, makes sense. I mean, the boy might not be popular, but he’s drop dead gorgeous. Mariana said he’s into some freaky stuff, though. Is he?” She wiggles her brows at me and grins.
“I don’t know,” I mumble, trying not to think about him and Mariana.
“Well, she’d know,” she says. “The crew guys pass around the crew girls. And don’t look at me like that. The girls know that’s the deal before they join.”
“I’m not a crew girl.”
“Right, but they still usually share with the crew,” she says. “Especially Maddox. He doesn’t respect any girl enough to keep her for himself. Lennox though…” She trails off, studying me.
“I’m not fucking either of them,” I assure her. “They’re all yours.”
A little flare of jealousy rises in me at the thought of her swimming naked in my pool that night, of them watching. She’s my friend now, and I should be happy if she gets what she wants. But the thought of her with either of them makes my fingers twitch, wanting to curl into a fist.
She laughs and unzips her bag. “No way. Been there, done that, have way too much self-respect now.”
I cough to clear my throat. “You fucked both of them?”