Fierce: New Adult Sport Romance (The Boys of Winter Book 4)

by Violet Vaughn

  “Fantastic. I’m hoping we can have lunch too.” I know over a martini he’ll open up, and my goal is to get the gossip on local businesses that are struggling as well as who owns the properties. It’s a bit cutthroat, but I want to swoop in and get the lease before someone else does, and I’ll play the networking game to do it.

  “Of course. Now let’s pick a date.”

  After I get off the phone, I wonder if maybe I should invite Christian to come. Negotiations are his specialty, and I could use his help with nabbing the right lease.

  I pick up my phone to text him and go through the texts I noticed when I took Gerry’s call. It looks like there’s a plan forming for going out tomorrow night. I text Christian before taking the time to reply to the group text among Megan, Casey, Lori, and me.

  “Could you lend me your expertise for lunch next Tuesday?”

  While I know work starts next week, not much happens, and the new guys don’t get a lesson unless they really want it. I’m pretty sure making money isn’t one of Christian’s concerns.

  I’m still in my pajamas, but I don’t feel like a slacker considering what I’ve accomplished this morning. I tuck my bare feet under me as I plop down on the couch. He texts back quickly, and I guess he’s eating lunch. “Yes. I’ll let you know for sure after I ask for it off. Do I get to talk money?”

  Awesome. “Oh, it’s much better than that. We’re digging for leases to steal.”

  “Yes! I can break out my black leather.”

  I chuckle, but when I imagine his butt and thighs in tight leather pants, my body heats up. I text back. “I might need to assess this fashion choice first.” I look down at the dogs gathering around me in my excitement. “Hang tight guys, we’ll go for our run in a bit.”

  Christian replies. “Are you asking me for a show?”

  “I believe I am.” I’m being shameless, but after what Lori said to me about him being interested, I feel quite brave.

  He leaves me hanging without a reply, and I assume he had to go back to training. My mind flirts briefly with the idea that I went too far, but then I remember this is Christian, the guy that flirts like people drink water.

  I open up the group text and read through the plans. I text back that I’m in, and since guys are going, I’ll invite Christian to join us. My thumbs tap out a text to him. “A group of us are going out for pool and burgers tomorrow night, want to come?”

  I don’t wait for a reply and get up to prepare for a run with the dogs. I still have a lot I want to work on today, and the exercise will help clear my head and keep my dogs from craving activity.

  Icy air floods my lungs as my raspy breathing fills my ears. I have rubber treads on my sneakers to keep me from slipping on ice, and I run the trail in the woods without worry. My head is filled with possible brands of clothing I want to carry and which trade shows I’ll need to attend. I’m also planning to find some local designers to showcase.

  My run seems to be over in the blink of an eye, and I’m thankful my dogs know the trail so well because I wouldn’t have noticed if any went missing. I haven’t been this obsessed with something since I first started modeling.

  Stepping into my house, it doesn’t take long for the sweat to bead up on my skin now that the warmth from my exercise isn’t needed. Cool water splashes into a large glass, and I drink half of it.

  I set it down and check my phone for messages. The group plan for tomorrow night is confirmed, and I have a text from Christian. It says, “Tuesday is a go, but not tomorrow night.”

  The clicking of the dog’s nails on the tile floor follows me as I pull ingredients out of the fridge and pantry to make spicy chicken chili for dinner. There was no explanation for why he can’t go out with us, and I wonder what Christian doesn’t want to tell me. My logic says he’s busy training and didn’t want to spend time typing it out. But my gut says it’s something more.

  The soft knick of my knife mincing shallots sounds, and a jarring thought hits me. What if he has a date? My stomach lurches, thinking of Christian with another woman, and it flips when I imagine that woman to be Jess. She’s one of those girls women tend to hate. I would rather it be someone I like. Or even better, someone I don’t know.

  Great. I puncture the plastic wrap over the boneless chicken breast, and the noise satisfies. So much for putting Christian in the safe place that can’t hurt me. I really need to stick him back there because nothing good can come from the complications a relationship with him would cause.

  By the time I’ve filled the slow cooker with dinner ingredients, I’ve determined I need to look around for other men to crush on because Christian says danger in so many languages.

  After a hot bath I’m back on the couch with my laptop, searching local clothing and accessory designers to contact. The aroma of chili fills the house, and I made pumpkin bread, which adds a cinnamon scent to the mix.

  The dogs alert me to Christian’s arrival and wait patiently at the door for his entrance. The door opens and he crouches down to them. “Hey guys, you sure make me feel welcome.” He walks into the kitchen and says to me, “Wow, it smells amazing in here. I can’t wait for dinner.”

  “There’s pumpkin bread you can sample if you’re hungry.”

  But when I hear the knife hit the glass bread pan in the middle of my sentence I know I didn’t need to give him the suggestion.

  He says, “Um-hmm.” I turn to look at him, and he gives me a thumbs-up. I’m reminded of how Kelly just spoke with food in his mouth, sharing the contents, while Christian’s manners are more refined.

  I shake my head at the comparison because, honestly, manners are such a petty thing to find offensive. Not that it matters now.

  After Christian swallows, he asks, “Want to practice pool later so you can impress your boyfriend tomorrow night?”

  “We should play. I’m rusty. But there’s no longer a boyfriend to impress. We’re definitely over.” I close my laptop with a light click and place it on the coffee table to stand and walk over to the kitchen.

  “Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed the note he left you was an apology, and all would be well.”

  “Gee, the rumor mill sure works fast if you know about it.” I slice off a sliver of pumpkin bread, and it’s warm in my hand.

  He shrugs, and his eyes don’t quite look at me. I ask, “So what are you doing tomorrow night that’s keeping you from coming out with us?”

  “I have a date.”

  Damn. I will my face to remain neutral and turn to slice more pumpkin bread as a distraction. I’m dying to ask with whom, but he speaks before I cave.

  “With Jess.”

  Damn. Shit. Fuck and everything else. I say, “Nice. I hope it’s fun.”

  Chapter 22

  Pool is something I learned to do well in prep school. A nerdy girl with only one good friend, we spent hours perfecting our game. Especially when my best friend’s older brother told us that girls who play well are hot. We figured it was our only chance.

  Christian racks up the balls and breaks. I watch as he sinks three high balls. “Not bad.” Knowing he has no idea what a shark I am, I don’t mention how nicely he set me up.

  I pocket the first two balls quickly and then draw out my shot for the third dramatically. When it snaps in with a loud crack, he chuckles. I raise my eyebrows at him and move on to the fourth. Showing off, I make an unnecessary trick move to get it in.

  “You’re schooling me in a big way.” He leans against the wall and crosses his arms. His biceps are pushed out and, I long to grab on to them.

  I bat my eyes at him, “What? You didn’t set me up like this on purpose?” I wander around the table, and the red felt is soft under my fingers as I drag them along the edge, planning my next move.

  “Damn. I’d love to say yes, but it wasn’t planned.”

  I look over my shoulder at him with what I hope is a seductive gaze before I shrug. My only shot is nearly impossible, but I could probably get it. I don’t bother to try a
nd throw it to save a little of his dignity.

  He gets two more in, and I’m a little disappointed when he misses the third because I was enjoying the view of him bending over the table. Christian walks by me, and his cologne wafts my way. Interesting, he put it on for dinner and pool with me? I smile with the secret knowledge as he asks, “How did you get so good?”

  “Simple, really. Being a geeky high school girl living in a dorm with a pool table, I had nothing but time to practice. It was one of the best parts of my prep school education.” I flash him an evil grin when he misses his next shot, and I proceed to clear the table of my balls.

  “Tell the truth. You became addicted to the game the way you are with your new business plan, didn’t you?”

  “Yup. I’m a bit obsessive that way.”

  “A bit? I can’t wait to see your outline. I have a feeling it’s going to be detailed and impressive.”

  “I hope so, but please know I’ll welcome any advice to make it better. I’ve got a lot to learn.” Balls thump on the table as we retrieve them from the pockets.

  They rattle as Christian racks them up, and when he removes the triangle, I move into position to break. The crack is loud, and two balls roll into pockets right away. I call low and move toward my first play.

  As I bend down he says, “Wait.”

  I stand up and look at him. Christian walks over and positions himself behind me. He’s close enough that the heat of his body radiates toward me, and he says, “I think I might need to pick up a few tricks.” His breath tickles my ear, and he practically whispers. “I’m not ruining your concentration by being too close, am I?”

  “No, I’m on to your flirtatious ways. Go ahead; see if you can learn my secrets.” I lean down and arch my back a bit to bump his thighs with my butt. Two can play this game.

  He grips my hips and bends down to see my line of sight. At least that’s what I tell myself as I try to ignore the trembling of my core. I flub the shot, but the ball wobbles in by sheer luck.

  He steps away to allow me to move. When I practically lay over the table for the next ball, he slides a finger down my spine making tiny hairs stand up on my skin. He leaves his hand at the small of my back where my shirt has risen, and I can’t focus on anything else. Christian asks, “Do you think maybe my posture is off?”

  Damn him. I’m melting like an icicle under his touch. I stand up. “Could be. Maybe you should try this one.” Because it’s my turn to manhandle his body.

  He gets his pool cue and lowers himself to peer over the table. This time I grab his hips and rub my hands down around the front of his thighs. I say, “There, that’s it.” Baby. I ogle his tight butt. That’s just how I like it.

  I don’t know what happens to the ball because Christian stands and turns quickly to press me up against the wall with his body. His hands are over my head as his groin pushes at me. I grab on to his chest and take a shaky breath as my eyes fall to his parted lips.

  He’s panting, and from the hardness in his jeans, I know he wants me. Only after last time, I won’t be the one to make the first move. The wall behind my head shudders when he slams it and steps away.

  He pulls a hand down over his face and says, “Shit, I’m sorry, Nika. I went too far.”

  Oh no, you didn’t go nearly far enough. “Right. Sister, brother. I get it.” Only I don’t. Sure, it might be weird at first. But the Gretchen I know would be happy for us. I wonder what’s really holding him back.

  I roll balls into pockets as I move around the table. Christian takes our pool cues, and they rattle loudly as he slams them back in the rack.

  I try to lighten the mood and say, “Hey, I have ice cream and chocolate sauce. Want some?”

  Christian looks at me. His mouth is tight, and I wish I could read his mind. I ask, “What’s really going on?”

  He shakes his head. “Us isn’t a good idea. I’m staying at your house for the next month. If we hook up and one of us wants nothing more, then what? Not to mention we’re going to be in each other’s lives. I’m sorry I went past meaningless flirting. It won’t happen again.”

  Oh, I get it now. He wants casual sex and is afraid I’ll want more and that having to see me for the wedding and family events could be awkward. You know, because I’ll be head-over-heels in love with God Christian. What an asshat.

  I nod. “You’re right. Us isn’t a good idea.” I look him up and down and put on a look of disgust as if I find him unattractive. “The shirt and tie is a much better look for you.” I walk toward the stairs, and the dogs hop off the couches to follow. I may be slow, but I won’t need a third rejection to get how this works.

  Chapter 23

  The next morning I limit speaking to the logistics of our day. Since Christian has a date, and I’m out with friends, neither of us has to worry about cooking. I’m not thrilled with my cold approach to him, but it’s for the best.

  I’m such an idiot. He’s known all along I’m attracted to him and probably thinks I’m falling in love. I bet he even thinks me dating Kelly was my poor attempt to make him jealous. Guess what, asshat? You should try to control your flirting if you want me to go away.

  Not hungry for breakfast, I’m sipping on my coffee and standing in the breakfast area staring out the window. Christian asks, “Want a ride? It seems foolish to take two cars.”

  The snow is starting to accumulate, and I think it might be time to break out the snowshoes for my daily runs with the dogs. I don’t bother to turn to look at him. “No. Lessons are slim this time of year, and one of us may get a class while the other doesn’t. It would be a shame to be trapped.” The way I worded the last sentence was a bit of a dig, but I’m cranky today.

  Clouds are wispy in the blue sky, and I expect a snowstorm tonight. The door to the garage slams shut as if Christian pushed it harder than usual. Since he didn’t say good-bye, I guess he’s pissed by my lack of conversation this morning. Good.

  I’m not in the mood to teach and decide I’ll beg off when I get to lineup. Lineup is when instructors stand, waiting to be assigned to a class. It shouldn’t be a problem not to get a class, and I would rather be lost in my project anyway. With a quick kiss for the dogs, I make my way to my car. The garage door roars open, and the daylight is bright when I pull out. My eyes welcome the darkness of my sunglasses when I slip them on my face.

  As I drive the familiar route to the mountain, I try to shake my dismal mood. I envision how I want my store to be laid out and imagine the level of service I’ll deliver to customers. My shop will not only offer high-end clothing. It will deliver an experience to remember.

  My visualization works because I’m at my locker without realizing how I got there. A smile is on my face until I see Christian. The click of his combination lock snaps me to attention when I realize he picked one next to me. Lovely.

  I raise my eyebrows at him as he walks by, and he drops his gaze without a word. A sigh escapes as the cool metal of my lock dial turns under my fingers. What did you expect, Christian? He practically screws me on my pool table and then tells me we can’t work. Yeah, I think I have a right to be a little cold.

  My mood plummets as my nylon pants rustle when I slide them on. If I don’t get a lesson, I’m going to need to take a dangerously fast run to rejuvenate myself. I know one of the girls will be up for it, and that small comfort makes me smile, just a little.

  ***

  Usually when I go out with the group, the girls want to dance in the night club while the guys hang out in the bar that shares the same lobby. But lately Casey has been on a pool binge and has been trying to get the other girls to join her. She was excited to hear I play too.

  The Fish Bowl and Down Under are both below ground level, and I descend the steps to reach the tile lobby. Silk is slippery under my hands as I take a moment to smooth out my shirt while music pours out of the club on my right, taunting customers to come dance. I turn left to Down Under to find my friends. I wasn’t in the mood to sit alone to wait for
anyone, so I’m purposefully late.

  I’m surprised to see Neal is behind the bar, talking to the bartender. While I knew he owned this place too, I’ve never seen him here. He’s usually at the Wine and Cheese shop during the day and Stone Soup at night. When he doesn’t notice me, I don’t make a point of getting his attention. I’m not up for charming small talk.

  As I make my way over to my friends, the odor of fried food makes me long for onion rings, and I’m looking forward to burgers and beer for dinner. Nick waves when he sees me, and the girls give me their attention when I get to the table. Megan, Casey, and Lori are here with Nick, Jason, and Kaleb and I’m the odd woman out. But this is something I’m used to, and it’s comforting tonight.

  Jason says, “We were just talking about you. Seems you’re a pool shark.”

  “What?” Of course it makes sense that they would talk to Christian at work today since he’s a friend of Casey’s, and I assume they asked if he was coming tonight. My stomach clenches when I think of how our pool game ended.

  Casey says, “You’ve been holding out on me. If I’d known, I would’ve been yanking you out to play every night.”

  Nick is pouring a beer, and white foam threatens to spill over the edge.

  I grin at her. “You can just come over. Did you forget I have a table?” Casey was at my house often last year to help take care of Gretchen when she was recovering from a car accident.

  Nick slides the beer over to me, and Casey says, “I did forget. But now that I know, I’m about to be your new bestie.”

  “Any time.” I take a sip and let the musty, spiced flavor fill my mouth. I think it must be a seasonal brew.

  The waitress comes over to take our order. Having been here multiple times, I knew what I wanted before I walked in the door and order a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings. Lori asks, “So will you help me and Megan? We’re pathetic.”