His French Maid: The Halloween Honeys Page 4

  He pulls back, brows drawn down in worry when he glances over my shoulder. He mutters, “Shit.”

  I turn to see what, or rather who he’s looking at. A blonde, who I recognize from campus stands there with a few of her friends, arms crossed, glaring between me and Andy.

  “Kristen,” he says.

  “It’s Kiersten,” she practically shrieks, face red.

  “Right, sorry,” he winces, and tries to steer me away, but the girl isn’t ready to let us go that quick.

  “I can’t believe you.” She points a manicured finger into his chest. “You bring me here, fuck me in the maze, then two weeks later you’re here with someone else. My friends were right, you really are a manwhore.”

  All my fears slam into me.

  That he’s exactly who I thought he was.

  That I’m nothing but another notch in his belt.

  That he is going to break my heart.

  Kiersten storms away, her little entourage glaring at Andy over their shoulders as they follow her.

  “Shit, Ava. I’m sorry--”

  “It’s fine. I just... I think we should go.”

  “Ava--”

  “I’m not mad.” I have no right to be. I knew who he was. Knew his reputation. But I can’t put my heart on the line for someone like him. Someone who’ll be onto the next conquest as soon as he’s bored with me. “I just want to leave.”

  With a heavy sigh, he nods, and we walk back to his car in silence.

  Storm clouds roll in above us from the east, and by the time he opens the door for me, little droplets of water are hitting my cheek, like tears that I won’t let fall.

  No words are spoken as we drive back, it’s only when he pulls the car to a stop in front of the sorority that he says, “I can’t take back what I did in the past, Ava.”

  “I’m not asking you to. You are who you are.”

  “And who do you think that is? You judged me before you met me. I know the labels: dumb jock, man whore, what else?” Frustration drips from his words.

  “I’m not judging you. You’re allowed to live your life the way you want. I just...” I glance out the window, the rain coming down harder now, and when a crack of thunder rumbles across the sky, I feel it in my chest. “You’re not good for me.”

  “I’m more than you think I am. And I can be what you need.”

  I look at him then. “Until when? Until the next girl catches your eye? I know how guys like you work.”

  “Guys like me?” Anger burns in his words. “And what kind of guy do you think I am, Ava?”

  “A guy that’s never made a commitment in his life.” The words come out before I can bite them back.

  “You have no idea the kind of commitments I’ve made. But you’re right, I’ve never made a commitment to a girl. Because I’ve never met one worth the risk. Not until you.”

  Lightning lights up the sky, and another boom rattles through the car.

  “Andy...” As nice as his words are, they’re still just that... words.

  “Take a chance on me, Ava.”

  “I don’t take chances. I...don’t want to get hurt.” My hand is on the door handle, ready to flee.

  “Ava, I get it. You’re scared. You’ve never had a boyfriend, but I want to be yours. I was your first and I want to be your last. I want to be your everything. ”

  My eyes well up with tears. “I like you, Andy, so much. But I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

  He drops his head, but before I step out of the car, he meets my gaze and says, “You can never get struck by lightning if you aren’t willing to walk in the rain.”

  Andy

  The girl is either going to be the end of me or the beginning. Twice now, she’s run from me. What she doesn’t realize is that I’m not only a star football player, but also came first at State in the five-hundred-meter dash. She can run, but I will catch her.

  Not tonight though. Being a so-called manwhore has taught me a few things about women. They need space. Especially when you’ve upset them.

  Tomorrow, the storm will have passed, the sky will clear, and I’ll be able to prove to her I’m more than what she thinks.

  I park my car and head into the frat house. The place is crowded with people like it usually is on a Friday night.

  “Hey asshole,” Connor shouts to me. “What happened to your date?”

  I wave him off and head upstairs to my bedroom. Needing to collect my thoughts. It fucking sucks, the night ending like this. I knew the corn maze was a bad fucking idea the moment Ava mentioned it, but I could tell she wanted to go and the last thing on earth I wanted to do was let her down.

  The fact Kiersten was there, was the icing on the cake this entire campus has baked up about me. That I’m a womanizing jock who likes to get laid.

  There is more to me than that. Isn’t there?

  Frustrated, I pull out my phone and call my mom. It’s been a while since I talked to her, most days a text here and there is how we communicate, but when Ava and I were talking about our mothers tonight, it made me realize how much I missed mine. Plus, people at Oak Ridge don’t know the real me. But my family does. They’ve seen me at my best and my worst and love me the same.

  God, it’s crazy, but I want to be that for Ava.

  Her support, her protector, her hero.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say when she picks up.

  “Andy! Wasn’t expecting this. Something must be wrong if you’re calling your mama on a Friday night.”

  I feel like my fucking voice is gonna crack when I hear her.

  “Is it about football or a girl?” she asks gently.

  “A girl, Mom. Well, the girl. Ava McIntyre.”

  “The girl?”

  “Yeah. And Mom? I think I love her.”

  “Are you pulling my chain, Andy?”

  I run a hand over my jaw. Hell, my mother thinks I’m a player too. “What? You don’t think I can commit to someone?”

  “What?” she scoffs. “Of course not. You’re one of the most committed men I know. Hardest working, too.”

  “Then why do you sound so surprised?”

  She sighs. “It’s just that this woman would have to be pretty special to truly win your heart. You may date a lot, but your heart is one thing you’ve saved for the right person. Hearing that my oldest son has met the love of his life is just…”

  “What?”

  “Oh Andy, it makes me very happy. I know you’ve struggled with football this season, the pressure of it all has been a lot to bear. The idea of you having a person to share those burdens with, comforts me so much.”

  I swallow. “The thing is, Mom. I don’t have her yet.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks with a line of worry in her voice.

  “I need some advice Mom,” I say. “Can you help?”

  I call Casey the next day, asking about Ava’s schedule.

  “You aren’t going to do anything creepy in her room are you?” she asks. “Because I won’t let you in if you are.”

  “I want her to be my girlfriend, Casey. The plan here is to be romantic. Not a stalker.”

  She laughs. “Okay, good. Maybe I’ve been watching too many Halloween movies.”

  “It is that time of year,” I say, writing down the time of Ava’s first class tomorrow.

  “Are you coming to the Mi Alpha Alpha Haunted house?” Casey asks.

  “I hadn’t thought about it. It’s off-campus right?”

  “Yeah, at Stacy Barton’s parents’ house. And of course, you should come. It’s for charity! Anyways, the point is, Ava got some great decorations for her room and I bet she’d like to show you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I ask, not having any idea where this conversation is headed.

  “Yeah. I think you should come. You know, if you’re looking to make a romantic gesture.”

  “If she wants me there, she’ll invite me,” I tell her. “Look I gotta go. Thanks for the information.”

  “Okay, QB. I�
�ll be here to unlock her door.”

  I hang up, hating the idea of celebrating any holiday without Ava. Thanksgiving is around the corner then Christmas. Football season stretching out from now until then.

  I’d love to have her in the stands at my home games. The idea of her being there rooting for me makes me want to be an even stronger athlete. Of course, I want to play well for the team, but the idea of Ava watching me, cheering me on, sends a fresh surge of desire through me.

  God, I want that girl.

  The next morning I round up the cleaning supplies I need. It’s near impossible to find a mop, and when I finally locate it I see that it’s covered in spider webs. Obviously, it’s not just me who could polish up on their room cleaning habits.

  Grabbing my bag of supplies, I triple check that everything is here. Including the vacuum cleaner. Once I’ve got it all, I head to her house after she would have left for class. As promised, Casey is waiting for me.

  “What took you so long, Romeo?”

  But one look at me tells me exactly why I am here. I’ve got a broom and duster in one hand, the vacuum and mop in the other. “I’m here to clean up Ava’s bedroom.”

  Casey nods approvingly and leads me up to Ava’s room. She unlocks the door and points a finger at me. “No snooping in her panty drawer.”

  I set down my gear and raise my hands in defense. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

  But that’s a lie. Of course, I want to know what kind of panties she has tucked away.

  Once alone in my girl's bedroom, I set to work, paying attention to details as I do. Her stack of textbooks is no surprise, but her paperback romance novel, with a ripped bearded man on the cover, opened and facedown on her bed, makes me smile. The idea of her reading romantic endings is a good thing--it means she isn’t totally opposed to falling in love. With me.

  I flip it over and scan the page she’d been reading…

  I turn, offering him my ass, and I slide the silky panties off, then straddle him backward. "That feel okay?" I ask, dropping my pussy to his mouth.

  "Oh fuck, Hannah, are you kidding me right now?"

  "Do you want me to be?" I ask, rolling his balls in my hand, watching as his thick cock grows a few inches.

  "No. This is exactly what I want." Then he begins licking me, my pussy wet with pleasure as his tongue begins to explore my cunt.

  I open my mouth, taking him in, sucking hard and knowing this is just the beginning.

  My eyes widen, my cock growing hard. Fuck, this is the kind of thing my girl likes to read? I knew she was a bookworm, I had just never really considered what kind of books she might like to read other than the assigned texts for class.

  I close the book and look at the title, The Mountain Man’s Cure. Damn, sex like I just read could cure me of just about anything.

  Not wanting to become any more aroused, I set the book on the bedside table and make her bed. When I lift her pillow to fluff it and see a hot pink vibrator beneath it. I toss the pillow back on the bed, knowing if I’m not careful I’m gonna have to walk out of this bedroom with a foot long stiffy.

  Focusing on the room, I sweep the floor and wipe down surfaces, tossing clothes in a basket and lining her shoes up in her closet. I try to take the job seriously and not get distracted by the corkboard of photos she has hanging over her desk.

  There are lots of photos of her and the woman I assume is her mom, they look so much alike. I love that she has a close relationship with her. In the end, family really is everything.

  When I finish, I reach inside a bag I’d dragged upstairs and pull out an orange pumpkin to leave on her desk. Using a thumbtack from her bulletin board, I attach my handwritten note to it. I hope she accepts me for who I am, and who I’m not.

  Because I really believe we would make a good fucking team. We may be messy, but we have our priorities straight.

  It just might have taken me a little bit longer to figure out exactly what mine were.

  But now I know.

  And I hope this small gesture shows Ava McIntyre that I’m more than a player.

  I’m hers.

  Ava

  I walk into my room, then walk out again, thinking I must have opened the wrong door. But a second glance tells me I’m in the right place.

  I blink, glancing around.

  My room is spotless. Everything is neatly tidied, with an orange pumpkin on my desk, and a note pinned to my bulletin board.

  Hey, beautiful:

  Hope you don’t mind that I cleaned your room. I wanted to return the favor. You may have lost the bet, but I’ve gone and lost my heart. Give me. Give us a chance.

  Andy

  Butterflies. They take flight in my stomach.

  He was here. And he cleaned my room.

  My heart flutters at the gesture, but at the same time, my cheeks burn remembering the pink vibrator I left under my pillow. The one that I’d used earlier this morning, picturing Andy inside me, his muscled body thrusting hard, perspiration on his forehead as he took me in every position possible.

  I whimper, lifting the pillow of the newly made bed and see the vibrator there.

  He saw it.

  Oh, God.

  Embarrassment quickly leaves me as I take in all the details of my room. He must have been here for hours. My books are stacked against the wall and my discarded clothes are in a hamper that I didn’t even know I had. He even dusted the blinds and emptied my wastebasket that was overflowing with crumpled papers.

  I never would have pegged Andy Stafford for the romantic type. But maybe I was wrong.

  Maybe I was wrong about a lot of things about him.

  Casey pokes her head in. “Um, so that guy has it really bad for you?”

  “You think?” I chew on my bottom lip.

  “Totally.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “You going to give him a chance?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Yes.

  No.

  Maybe.

  He has my head spinning.

  And I’m not sure Casey is the best person to give me advice considering her own relationship history. I need to talk to my mom.

  When Casey is gone, I dial my mom’s number and sit on my bed, tucking a pillow against my check. I groan when I see the smutty paperback that I’d been reading last night, knowing Andy would have seen it too.

  “Hey, baby girl,” my mom answers. “I didn’t expect to hear from you today.”

  “Are you busy?”

  “You know I always have time for you. Everything all right?”

  No. Everything is not all right. Because I think I might be falling in love with a guy who could shatter my heart into a million pieces. A beautiful, funny, sexy as sin, smart guy who I would never have thought would ever look my way, let alone ask me to date him.

  When I don’t answer right away, she asks, “Ava, what’s wrong?”

  “I think...” Tears burn my eyes because it terrifies me to even say it. “I think I might be falling for someone.”

  “You met a guy?” I hear the smile in her voice.

  “He’s not just a guy, he’s...” I sigh. “Everything.”

  Everything I want, and nothing I need. Player, bad boy, jock, there are a hundred stereotypes I could and have pegged him as. But maybe I was wrong.

  “That’s wonderful. Isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, Mom. I’m scared.”

  “You’re afraid he’ll break your heart.”

  “Yes.”

  A heavy breath echoes on the other end of the receiver. “Oh, baby girl, you’ve always been so afraid to take chances. To give your heart. But that’s part of life. Sometimes the risks pay off--”

  “And sometimes it doesn’t. Dad--”

  “You can’t think every guy is like your father, Ava. He left because he was afraid of commitment.”

  “And what if Andy is too? What if I give him my heart, and he walks away.”

  “Better to have loved and lost than to never have
loved at all.”

  “You’re quoting Shakespeare now?”

  She chuckles. “It’s Tennyson, and you should know that.”

  I grunt. “Do you really believe that? Even after dad hurt you?”

  “I loved your dad, and we had some wonderful moments together. Moments I would never take back. Plus, he gave me you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  When I hang up, I hug the pillow closer to my chest. What had Andy said the last time I saw him?

  You can never get struck by lightning if you aren’t willing to walk in the rain.

  The thing is, I already feel like I’ve been struck. By him. And it’s both amazing and painful and insane all at the same time.

  I scroll through my numbers on my phone and find him. It rings several times and I’m about to hang up when he answers.

  “Ava?”

  “Hey.” Even I can hear the nerves in my voice. “I... uh wanted to say thank you for cleaning my room.”

  “You got my note?”

  “I did.”

  The silence stretches between us and I know he’s waiting for an answer.

  “I think I’m ready to take that walk in the rain,” I say softly.

  I hear his heavy breath like he’d been holding it in.

  “But, Andy...”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not used to taking chances. I’m not the kind of girl who likes to get wet.” Oh God, did I just say that? I was totally trying to play off his analogy, but it came out all wrong.

  He chuckles. “I don’t know about that. You seemed to love getting wet around me.”

  I groan. “You’re terrible.”

  “You’re the one who said it.” He laughs, then says with a more serious tone. “And as much as I love getting you wet, that’s not all I want. I want you, Ava McIntyre.”

  “Come to the haunted house with me tomorrow.”

  “I’ll come where you want, sweetheart.”

  Is it wrong that my pussy clenches and my core begins to ache with his sexual innuendos? Maybe, but I can’t help it.

  “You have a dirty mouth,” I say, unable to hold back the smile that tugs at my lips.