Road to Forever: Dogs of Fire MC Next Generation Stories

Lily A BLOODY NOSE. Never in my wildest thoughts did I ever imagine something as simple as a bloody nose would be the beginning of the end of “Liverick.” We were forever. I had just started my senior year of high school at the Arts school in Vancouver, Washington, and my boyfriend, Maverick, was off fulfilling his first year of a full-ride athletic scholarship playing football for Notre Dame. It was our first time away from each other, and we were miserable. But we’d concluded it was just one year. I’d join him the following year, and we’d be back on track. There was never any talk of me not moving to Indiana to be close to him, even my parents were on board. If I didn’t get in, then I’d go somewhere else close to Mav. After all, we’d been together since I was five and he was six. This was it for us. Well, until... It was a Wednesday. It was raining, and school had sucked. Ballet, however, had almost made up for my crappy day, but I was still late. I ran through the front door, yelling, “Hi, Mom, bus was late, sorry, gotta call Mav,” and rushed up to my room, powering up my laptop. Our black lab, Rex, followed, so I greeted him quickly. I peeled off my wet clothes and changed into dry pajamas while I tried to connect the video call. This was new for me... Maverick’s home was right next door, and our bedroom windows faced each other, but for now, I was relegated to seeing him on a screen. It sucked. Maverick answered on the second buzz. “Hey, gorgeous.” “Hi, Möosh.” He chuckled. I’d given Maverick that nickname one night when we’d been out at Frenchman’s Bar, lying on a blanket and making out like crazy. He was always saying the sweetest things, and I always found it funny how the men in my sphere of influence were the romantic ones, while the women... not so much. “You’re so mushy,” I said, kissing him. “It’s because I love you.” “So because I’m not as mushy, I don’t love you?” I challenged. He grinned, the crater on his left cheek melting me. Seriously tall and muscular with longish dark hair, blue eyes, and dimples, Maverick Quinn was the hottest guy on earth. He’d always reminded me a little of Superman. You’d never guess he was the son of a badass motorcycle club member, being way more jock than biker... but I suppose, you could say that about me as well. I was far more ballerina than biker chick. “Mom and Dad are the same way,” he pointed out. “So are your parents.” “This is true.” I giggled as he squeezed me. “I do love how you get all mushy, and then you smoosh me, though. They just make out and play ass grab with each other. It’s weird.” I craned my head to look up at him. “But you’re totally my moosh.” Maverick laughed. “What the hell?” “I’m over ‘babe’ and ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie.’ From this point on, you’re my moosh.” “You already picked ‘Liverick.’” “Well, we couldn’t be Maly... that’s just silly.” He shook his head. “Well, if I’m your moosh, I want something cool. Something with umlauts in the spelling or some s**t like that... like a bad European rock band.” I giggled. “Like m-ü-s-h?” “Nuh-uh. I want m-ö-o-s-h. The second umlaut is silent.” I laughed so hard, I snorted, which was always Mav’s goal. “How was dance?” he asked, bringing me back to the present. “It was really good, actually. Your mom’s kicking my butt.” “As she should.” I sighed. “She wants me to do a showcase for the Rose City Dance Company.” He leaned forward. “And what did you say?” Maverick knew how much I hated attention... good or bad. I was naturally shy and tended to stay in the background whenever possible. “I said I’d think about it.” He gave me a gentle smile. “Just tell her no, baby. She’ll understand.” “Outside of the fact there could be scholarship money, I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” “Lil,” he said, his voice a gentle admonishment. “You won’t hurt her feelings. She’s asked before, right?” I nodded. “She’ll get it, baby doll.” “I’ll tell her tomorrow,” I promised. “You’re playing Duke this weekend, right?” “Yep.” He shrugged. “But I’m ready.” “I know you are.” Maverick was not one to talk about game day this close to game day, so I changed the subject. “I miss you.” “I miss you, too. Less than six weeks and I’ll be home for Thanksgiving.” “I’m crossing the days off my calendar.” “Me too, baby.” He leaned forward. “Lil, your nose is bleeding.” I touched my lip, and my hand came away with blood. “Oh, gross. Hold on.” I rushed into the bathroom attached to my bedroom and grabbed a washcloth. Rex followed inside and sat beside me as I got the cloth wet. “Press it against your upper lip, just under your nose,” Maverick directed from the computer. “Apply lots of pressure.” I kept my head tilted back slightly and sat back down at my desk, peering at Maverick around the bloody washcloth. “So video s*x probably wouldn’t be attractive right now, huh?” Maverick laughed, shaking his head. “If your dad heard you say that, he’d have my balls.” I grinned. “He doesn’t know about us... you know.” “I’m sure he suspects.” “I’m sure he doesn’t,” I countered in a whisper. There’s no way my dad suspected we were doing the nasty because if he did, Maverick probably wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone play football. Maverick and I had waited a long time to have sex... well, a long time by teenage standards, really. It was my seventeenth birthday, and we’d been given permission to take my dad’s boat out for the day alone, provided we were home in time for the big blowout party my parents had planned. The whole day had been one of dreams. We’d made love, swam a little, and then made love some more. After that, I found it difficult to keep my hands off him. Everything with Maverick was always perfect, and I couldn’t wait until we could find time to be together again. Maverick smiled. “Well, I’m not telling anyone.” “Me neither.” “How’s your nose?” I pulled the washcloth away. “Seems good. That was weird.” “Probably allergies.” I nodded. “Probably.” “I have to go grab dinner with the guys. I’ll text you later, okay?” “Okay, Möosh,” I said, but it wasn’t okay. I wanted to keep talking to him. He smiled. “I miss you, too, baby doll.” “I know.” “I love you.” “I love you, too.” “I’ll text you before I fall asleep,” he promised. He disconnected the video call, and I headed downstairs.