A Million Tiny Pieces

by Nicole Edwards

  Not many people knew the extent of Phoenix’s sexual desires. Threesomes were part of his regular routine or had been until recently. And for the last few years, the only other person Phoenix invited into the bedroom with one of his many conquests was Tarik. Not that he was complaining. A threesome was a threesome. The best of both worlds, as far as Tarik was concerned. However, there were plenty of times he wished that Phoenix would give in one more time to that side of himself he worked so damn hard to deny.

  As much as Phoenix wanted to pretend he wasn’t interested in threesomes or men, Tarik knew better. Well, maybe that last part was only partially true. As far as Tarik knew, Phoenix had never had intercourse with a man. Although they hadn’t gone quite that far, what had happened between them that one night nearly eight months ago was proof that Phoenix was interested. It also wasn’t all that Tarik wanted from Phoenix. But for now it was enough to keep him hopeful.

  Tarik showered and dressed in record time, knowing not to keep Phoenix waiting too long or else his mood would take a turn for the worse. After grabbing the Glock from his bedside table, checking that the safety was on, Tarik tucked it into the waistband of his slacks, letting his jacket cover the piece. Grabbing his laptop, he then ventured into the kitchen and pilfered a power bar.

  A second later, like clockwork, his front door opened and Phoenix stepped inside.

  “You done primping yet? We’ve got shit to do.”

  Tarik laughed as he snatched his key off the bar and headed for the front door. Based on the lack of mug in his hands, Phoenix had already given up on the coffee, which could be a bad thing for everyone if the man didn’t get enough caffeine. But he didn’t have time to think about that, because Phoenix was already heading out the door, so Tarik fell into step behind him, shutting and locking the front door after they exited.

  The elevator, as usual, took its own sweet fucking time getting to his floor, and when it finally arrived, Tarik moved inside ahead of Phoenix, hitting the button for the parking garage after entering a code that would bypass all other floors, even if someone called the elevator. It was one of the safety precautions they rarely used; however, it was one that Tarik had put in place not long after he’d been assigned to watch over Phoenix. It still amused him that the elevator was equipped with passcode overrides, but the damn thing took a decade to get from one floor to another.

  Had it not been for the ruckus stirred up by the lawsuit currently pending against Phoenix, Tarik might’ve been a little less concerned about Phoenix’s well-being. Although he didn’t take it lightly, Tarik knew the attempt by the jealous husband had been an isolated incident. But the way shit seemed to be going these days, he couldn’t be too careful. It was as though everyone wanted a piece of Phoenix at the moment. Hell, it was enough fending off the reporters camping out between the condo, the office, the training facility, as well as the Arrows Center. Yep, Phoenix was making headlines these days, and Tarik had been on guard more often than not these last few months.

  “Run down my schedule for me,” Phoenix said as they rode the elevator down to the parking garage.

  “We’re in Montreal on Tuesday, Tampa on Thursday, then back here Friday. You’ve got a charity ball Friday evening and a home game Saturday night.”

  Phoenix nodded, his eyes darting toward the numbers on the elevator. “Do I need to prepare anything for the charity event?”

  “You’re off the hook with this one. No speech for you this time.”

  “Anything else I should be worried about?” Phoenix asked.

  “Not at this time, no.” Tarik wasn’t about to go into detail about the little things he was in the process of tracking. There was no sense in worrying Phoenix if he didn’t have to. It was Tarik’s job to ensure that the threats remained as far from Phoenix as possible.

  “You coming with me?”

  “To the ball?” Tarik questioned, glancing over at his boss. “You want me to?”

  Phoenix didn’t respond immediately, and Tarik waited, meeting those intense green eyes when they finally slid over to him.

  “Yeah. I do.”

  Releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Tarik nodded. “Then I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Four

  “THANK YOU, GEORGE,” Mia said to the older man who kindly held the door open for her when she arrived back at her condominium building at five o’clock.

  “My pleasure, Ms. Cantrell. And how was class today?”

  “Tiring,” she admitted honestly. She was exhausted, and the only thing she had done for the majority of the day was sit in one classroom after another and review syllabi and expectations for the new semester’s classes. Not exactly how she had anticipated the day going, but at least it was over.

  “Do you go back tomorrow?” he inquired, looking as though he was trying to remember what day it was.

  Mia stopped inside the door, mainly to get away from the paparazzi who were stalking outside the building, and then turned to face George to avoid being rude. “Nope. Like last semester, I’ve got Tuesdays off. I think I might sleep in tomorrow.”

  “Well, then I look forward to seeing you on Wednesday.”

  She smiled at George and hoisted her bag higher on her arm, thrusting her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie. As she normally did when she walked through the grand lobby of the building she now lived in, Mia admired the decor. It was still new to her, even all these months after she’d moved in, and she hadn’t gotten bored with the interior just yet. There were always fresh flowers sitting at the reception desk and on the small tables in the seating areas scattered about. The grand staircase that led to the second floor, with its detailed wrought iron railing, drew her eyes. It seemed more like a fancy hotel lobby than what Mia would’ve expected in a condominium complex in downtown Austin, but she had learned to expect the unexpected. After all, having been married to Damien, she’d seen what money could buy.

  Mia made her way to the elevator doors, pushing the up button and watching it light up. She’d been there long enough to know that taking the stairs would’ve probably taken less time than waiting for the elevator to arrive. And she lived on the seventeenth floor, so that was a little off-putting.

  It would’ve also been a bit more cumbersome now that she was hefting a few required textbooks, however, still probably faster. She found that somewhat amusing considering how plush the lobby was. They could’ve spent a little less on fresh flowers and splurged for a set of elevators that were installed in this century at least. As it was, only one of the two usually worked. Based on a paper sign hanging on the other set of doors, it looked as though only one was working now.

  As the doors opened, someone walked up beside her, but Mia refused to look over. She noticed the elevator car was empty, so she stepped on, hit the button for the seventeenth floor, and moved back out of the way, not stopping until her back hit the mirrored wall. The man who joined her punched in a code on the control panel, and the penthouse button lit up.

  He took a step back and glanced over. Mia was doing her best to avoid his gaze, but something piqued her curiosity enough to have her eyes slowly traveling up his tall — he had to be at least six feet, maybe a couple of inches over — lean, well-dressed form. The suit was a nice touch. Expensive.

  She expected to arrive at a middle-aged face, but what she saw when her gaze landed on his exquisitely chiseled features had her eyes immediately darting to the control panel once again.

  Come on, elevator. This is ridiculous.

  He smelled ridiculous.

  Good ridiculous, but still ridiculous.

  Damn it.

  “Elevator’s a little slow,” the extremely attractive, much-younger-than-Mia-thought-he-would-be, well-dressed man said in a voice that was rich and dark and way too sexy.

  “Dust collects faster,” she replied absently, meeting his gaze briefly.

  The brilliant smile he gifted her with had her gripping the metal bar that was currently pressing into her
back. She swallowed hard and looked away.

  Nope. Not going to happen.

  Mia was not going to get distracted by a handsome face. Especially not one that belonged to a man whose suit cost more than her mother’s mortgage in an area known for its million-dollar homes. Okay, maybe not that much, but perhaps close. She was done with men like that. Give her one like the guy she’d seen in the lobby that morning, wearing shorts and a hoodie, looking like he’d just gotten back from his morning jog. Someone a little less … expensive. Yeah, she’d willingly take a guy like that. Not one who eyed her like she was next on his long list of playthings that he wanted to play with briefly and then toss out.

  No, thank you.

  The elevator dinged, and Mia unclenched her hands, forcing herself to relax.

  Without saying a word, she stepped off, walking slowly in the hopes that the doors would shut before she reached her door. Last thing she needed was to let some stranger — no matter how well dressed he was — know where she lived.

  The doors finally closed, and she made a mad dash for her front door, shoving the key in the lock and letting herself in. Once inside, she even peered out through the security hole to ensure the good-looking, expensive-suit-wearing, penthouse-living man hadn’t decided to follow her.

  Why would he?

  Jeez.

  Letting her bag drop to the floor at her feet, Mia glanced down at what she was wearing. Seriously? Why would that guy have any interest in her? She looked like she should be coming home to greet her mother after a long day at school.

  High school.

  Shaking her head, Mia made her way to the kitchen and straight to the refrigerator. She’d done her grocery shopping on Saturday, but as she stood there, she realized she’d been on a health kick that day. Which reminded her … wasn’t one of her resolutions to start going to the gym?

  Ignoring the wayward thought, Mia studied the contents of her refrigerator.

  Right now, she simply wanted some Ben and Jerry’s and a clean spoon. That would suffice for dinner.

  Unfortunately, the only thing she had that could possibly curb her sweet tooth would be the frozen Greek yogurt she’d bought. And that, honestly, didn’t sound appealing at all.

  So, instead of trying to pretend ice cream would materialize if she thought about it hard enough, Mia grabbed an orange from the produce drawer and made her way to the trash can to peel it. That took a lot less time than she thought it would, and the next thing she knew, she was back in front of the freezer, once again looking for ice cream.

  It still wasn’t there.

  She glanced at the clock and then back to the refrigerator.

  Hmmm.

  There may not be any ice cream hidden behind the frozen Healthy Choice TV dinners, but there was a coffee shop next door. They wouldn’t have ice cream, but they would have some sort of coffee concoction that could easily make up for it.

  Smiling at her brilliance, Mia grabbed her wallet, the paperback she’d bought at the bookstore conveniently located across the street from the building her last class was in, and her condo key from her bag before heading out. Thankfully, she didn’t age much as she waited for the elevator this time. However, she found herself once again sharing the car with an incredibly attractive, albeit quite menacing-looking, man.

  This one looked nothing like the guy in the suit she’d seen earlier — except for the fact that he, too, was wearing a suit — although he smelled just as good. How that was possible, she had no idea. With his shaggy dark hair that hung over his forehead and dark shadowed jaw, plus black suit and crisp white shirt, he held an air of danger. When his golden eyes raked over her, starting at her feet and working upward, a shiver raced down her spine, and she fought the urge to outwardly shiver, hoping he didn’t notice how affected she was by his perusal.

  Lord have mercy, she was doing it again. What was it with this building? It seemed each man she saw was as handsome, if not more so, than the first. And where the hell had they all come from? She’d lived there for nearly five months, and all of a sudden they’d decided to venture out? Doubtful.

  Maybe there was a hot guy convention or something. Did they do that sort of thing there?

  Doing her best to ignore him and his tantalizing scent, Mia focused on the numbers above the door, counting down in her head as each floor passed. A muted ding signaled the arrival to the first floor, and Mia had to hold on to the bar behind her to keep from bolting as soon as the doors opened.

  “Ladies first,” the man said kindly, although it sounded more like a growl. A deep, seductive rumble that made her toes curl.

  Forcing her feet to move, Mia mumbled a polite thank you as she exited the elevator and made a beeline for the front doors. She could feel his eyes on her, and then she remembered what she was wearing. Definitely not her most flattering outfit.

  You’re not supposed to care, a little voice in her head said as she walked briskly toward the front doors of the building.

  I don’t, she mentally replied to the voice.

  Yep, keep telling yourself that.

  Mia grumbled, realizing she was now arguing with herself.

  “Did you say something?”

  Looking up, she noticed the tall, sexy stranger from the elevator was standing beside her as George held open the door for them both.

  “No, sorry,” she muttered softly and then turned, quickly heading away from the guy as fast as she could without looking too conspicuous. She hoped.

  With a heavy sigh of relief, she stepped into the small coffee shop, inhaling the heavenly aroma. Mia could’ve lived in there if they’d let her. Just to wake up to that smell every single day.

  The barista behind the counter greeted her with a tired smile, and she ordered quickly, familiar with the drill. She gave her name, handed over her credit card, and then stepped out of the way when the weary woman behind the counter returned it a second later.

  While she waited with two other people for her drink to be made, Mia studied the patrons scattered throughout the relatively small space. There was an older man — probably in his sixties — sitting at a table with a laptop in front of him. He looked deep in thought as he stared at the screen, and Mia imagined him to be an author, deeply engrossed in the next best seller he was writing. A dark-haired woman sat in one of the more casual chairs, her legs crossed as she listened intently to the phone that was stuck to her ear, sipping her coffee as she nodded her head. In Mia’s mind, the woman was talking to her sister, debating on where they would go for dinner next weekend. Then there was a young woman standing with a guy who Mia assumed was her boyfriend a few feet away, waiting patiently for their drinks.

  The man making the coffee called out a name, and the couple moved forward, taking two cups and heading straight for the door. Mia moved closer to the wall, watching them leave hand in hand when she noticed another guy come in. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at him in the dimly lit space, which wasn’t easy to do with the sun’s reflection off the building across the street silhouetting him from behind. As he moved closer, she realized he looked a lot like the guy from that morning in the lobby.

  No, wait.

  He looked exactly like the man from the lobby. He was even wearing the same black hoodie and shorts. Did he not have a job? Then again, maybe he ran twice a day. Since she wasn’t much for exercise — hence the need for non-fat frozen Greek yogurt and Healthy Choice meals in her freezer — what did she know about the habits of runners? Hell, she couldn’t even convince herself to go to the state-of-the-art gym in her building, opting to hang out in a coffee shop rather than ratchet up her pulse for the good of her heart.

  Then again, looking at that guy was doing a damn fine job of raising her blood pressure.

  He made his way to the counter, and the girl who had forced a smile at Mia when she had been in that spot a few minutes before beamed back at the man as though she’d recently awoken from a two-hour nap.

  “Hey, Coach. What can I get
ya?”

  Coach? Really? That was his name? Well, it kind of explained the clothes.

  Regardless, those two were clearly on a first-name basis, possibly more based on the way the woman caressed him from head to waist with her eyes as he stared back at her.

  He rattled off his order, and that dark, seductive voice sounded eerily familiar. Like she’d heard it somewhere before. As she allowed her gaze to rake over him, hoping he didn’t turn around and catch her staring, Mia tried to figure out if they’d actually spoken to one another.

  No. There was no way. She’d seen him that morning, but he hadn’t talked to her, had he?

  “Mia!” the barista called as he pushed a plastic cup out onto the counter, tossing a paper-wrapped straw alongside it.

  “Thank you,” she called out to him, but he’d already moved on to help the next customer, which happened to be the man in the hoodie.

  Not thinking, Mia unwrapped the straw and stuck it into the cup before bringing it to her lips. As she turned around to throw the paper in the trash, she practically ran right into Hot Hoodie Guy.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, stepping around him at the very last second, avoiding a full-body collision by mere centimeters.

  Mia dodged looking directly at him, thankful the hood covered most of his head because she hoped it limited his ability to see the evidence of her embarrassment in her heated cheeks. With her head down, she darted toward one of the empty chairs in the corner near the windows at the front. That way she could read her book and watch the people on the street.

  And, more importantly, keep her back to Hot Hoodie Guy.

  Placing her cup on the small table, she opened her paperback and pretended to read what was on the page. She was actually peering over her shoulder at the hoodie guy, trying to get a better look at his face. He was talking to the man making the coffee, leaning on the counter casually as they spoke. The glass partition that separated the customer side of the counter from where they worked as well as the hood he had over his head were obscuring her view.