Inspired By You (Love in the City Book 6)

by Steph Nuss

  “What’s going on, Max?” he asked, brows furrowed. “I thought you were supposed to be meeting with Paige this morning?”

  “I was. I mean, I am.” Shit, I’m ruining this and it’s not even my potential baby. “Look, whoever you’re talking to, tell them you’ll call them back.”

  “What?” he repeated.

  Taking the phone from his hands, I resumed his call and spoke to them in my best secretarial voice. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Wilkins will call you back. Something’s come up.”

  Without a response, I hung up the phone and dragged a stunned Drake out of his chair. “Come on, we’re going to Paige’s office.”

  “What the fuck is going on?” he asked harshly.

  I hurried him through the halls, trying my best not to cause a scene amongst their staff arriving for the workday.

  “Look,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “I offered Paige a donut this morning, and she could barely keep it down.”

  Flustered, he shook his head and stopped in his tracks. “She got sick? If she’s not feeling well, she should reschedule her appointments for the day and go home and rest.”

  Finding the conference room across from Paige’s office empty, I pushed him in and closed the door behind us for more privacy. “She’s not sick, you idiot. Paige is taking a pregnancy test. She asked me to come get you so you could be there with her when the results show up.”

  “Holy shit,” he stated in a nervous tone, running both hands through his hair. “You said she got sick? Like she actually threw up?”

  “Yeah, man,” I answered, nodding. “I don’t think you need to worry about jizzing into a cup anymore.”

  He laughed and pulled me into a strong man hug, patting me hard on the back. “I’m going to be a dad again?”

  Hugging him back, I laughed. “Yeah, I think you are. Now, go across the hall and be with her. She was pretty emotional.”

  Breaking away, he moved to the door and grabbed the handle, but paused before exiting. “What if she’s not? God, it will crush her if she’s not pregnant!”

  “I gave her a donut, Drake,” I said obviously. “Who the hell gets sick off of a donut? Come on, think positive. Literally.”

  “You’re right.” He yanked the door open and ran across the hall into Paige’s office.

  I watched the scene unfold through the glass walls of her office. Paige came out of her attached bathroom, wearing a smile and proudly showing off the stick as another set of tears ran down her face and she nodded. Drake grabbed her and kissed her hard before lifting her off the ground and twirling around in excitement. Then they simply hugged and spoke to one another.

  It was then that I thought I should give them some privacy, but it was too late to disappear. Paige saw me through the glass and waved me back into her office.

  In her high heels and fierce suit, she still commanded the room, even with a blotchy face and teary eyes. “Come here, dammit.”

  The grin on my face spread as I walked over to them, hugged her and glanced over at Drake. “Congratulations, guys. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It’s not my news to share.”

  “Thank you,” she said, pulling back.

  I grabbed my box of donuts and lifted it up proudly. “But to think, you almost didn’t have one of these tasty pastries.”

  “Uh, yeah,” she smirked. “You’re going to have to get rid of those before we actually start our meeting.”

  “I can help with that,” Drake said, snatching the box out of my hands. “More donuts for me!”

  “Hey!” I reached into the box and tossed the last of my chocolate donut into my mouth. He clutched the box in his hand like it was a trophy and walked out of the office. “You’re welcome!”

  “Thanks!” he shouted, using a chocolate bar to wave back at me.

  Who am I kidding? I couldn’t even pretend to be mad at him. Two of my friends just found out the biggest news of their lives thanks to me.

  I wished I could call Whitley and tell her.

  Chapter Eleven

  I stood in front of my bedroom mirror checking my outfit one last time. I’d chosen a short-sleeved eggplant t-shirt dress, boasting a deep, black V-shaped neckline that plunged all the way down to my midriff. Instead of being open, the laced-up neckline created a slashed illusion that still showed off a lot of skin and made it impossible for me to wear a bra. The hem fell to mid thigh, and I paired it with black, peep-toed Steve Madden wedges that laced up to my ankle. Even though we were headed to a club, I wanted to appear casual and hot, while still being comfortable in a loose-fitting outfit I could actually breathe in. It’d been years since I’d stepped into a club, but some of the outfits I’d seen women wearing nowadays made me wonder how they could even have fun when their outfit looked like a second skin on them.

  Maybe that was the maternal instincts in me. I was a mom, first and foremost, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t dress provocatively. I just didn’t want to come off as a slut. I still wanted Max to want me, but if I had my picture taken with him tonight and it later appeared in a magazine, I didn’t want to worry about a wardrobe malfunction.

  I smiled at myself one last time and fixed a strand of my hair. Harper had made all of us girls go and get our hair done for tonight as an extra treat for ourselves. Another vanity I’d never done: getting my hair blown out. My hair looked photo-shoot ready. The stylist parted my hair down the middle and then curled it, making it fall in long soft waves that framed my oval face perfectly. It looked effortless and I did my makeup to match, with a smokey eye and some light pink blush and lip gloss.

  Part of me almost wanted my picture taken to document how amazing I looked.

  A knock rapping against my door reminded me I had a man out there waiting on me.

  Max peeked his head into my room and smiled. “Wow, look at you.”

  I twirled around for him to show off my look and laughed. “Do you like?”

  He walked further into the room and the amazing crisp scent of his cologne followed him, along with the even better view. I wasn’t the only one who looked great tonight. Max wore a pair of black jeans that hugged his strong thighs and lean waist, and he’d paired it with black boots and a black Henley tee with charcoal-colored sleeves. He’d left all three buttons of his shirt undone, showing off his chest hair, making the needy woman inside me objecting to leaving the house tonight.

  “I love it,” he said, settling his hands on my waist. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine for a sweet, chaste kiss. “You’re beautiful, Whit.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered, running my hands along his hard chest. “So are you, Mr. Sexiest Man Alive.”

  He laughed and reached over to grab my clutch off the bed. “Are you ready to go? Manny is downstairs waiting in the truck.”

  I inspected the contents of my clutch, making sure I had all my necessities, and when I saw my iPhone lying in there, an idea struck. I grabbed my phone and handed it over to Max. “Let’s take a picture. We haven’t taken a picture together yet, and I don’t want our first one to be taken by some pap.”

  “You want a selfie with me?” he asked in a teasing voice, feigning incredulity. He laughed as he opened the camera app, and then wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in tight against his body. I rested my hand on his chest and smiled up at the phone he held out in front of us. “Okay, say, ‘Max and Whitley forever!’”

  Laughter shook from the depths of my belly as I beamed up at him. His infectious smile matched mine as he gazed back at me, and that’s when I heard the snap from the camera.

  “Hey!” I said, smacking him playfully. “I wanted a nice picture of us smiling at the camera.”

  He tapped the phone a couple of times and brought up the picture he’d taken.

  “But look how good we look together,” he said, showing us off.

  The picture captured us smiling at each other instead of the camera, and one look at the photo had my heart beating so rapidly like it could just lea
p right out of my chest and fall perfectly into his hands. I peered up at him like I was already in love with him, even though we hadn’t said those words to each other. Hell, we hadn’t even slept together yet, but the heat had been simmering between us for weeks. By the end of the night, I hoped my dress would find a new home on his bedroom floor.

  “It’s perfect,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. I flushed my body against his and ran my tongue along his bottom lip before kissing him deeply.

  Mid kiss, the camera snapped again, and I felt Max’s smile against my lips.

  “I bet that one looks even hotter.”

  We broke away from one another and checked the picture. Eyes shut, lips locked, we were captivating. Maybe not to anyone else, but to me, the picture screamed: take my breath away. That’s exactly what he did when we kissed. He stole every ounce of oxygen from my lungs and replaced it with a lusty high that made me a sucker for him.

  “I’m texting these to myself so I can have them, too,” he said, tapping around on my phone.

  I watched him, mesmerized by how excited he became over a couple of photographs. Most guys hated taking pictures, but Max was used to it by now. I appreciated it even more that he sneaked them.

  “I could even post them on social media and make us official before anyone else,” he said, brows perked in amusement.

  He wasn’t asking for my permission, but I nodded anyway. “Go for it.”

  “Really?” he asked incredulously. “You wouldn’t mind me sharing them?”

  I shook my head and again watched him quickly pull out his phone from his back jean pocket. Focused, he tapped around on his iPhone as I put mine back in my clutch and closed it. Once he was done, he showed it to me before posting it.

  Both pictures were in a two-image collage, side-by-side, captioned: Sexiest Woman Alive.

  “What a fitting caption,” I said proudly with a laugh.

  He hit share and then closed his apps and put his phone away. “Let’s go.”

  Taking my hand, he led me out of my apartment and into his black SUV. I glanced up at my building one last time as Manny drove us away from the curb, knowing that after tonight, my life would be forever changed. I was no longer just Whitley Gonzalez.

  I was Maxton Waters’ girlfriend.

  The Sexiest Man Alive’s woman.

  A daunting, breathtaking devotion I indulged in willingly.

  ***

  We arrived at Fletcher’s Black and Gold club within thirty minutes and already the paparazzi were lingering around outside the venue. Cars ahead of us dropped off guests and pulled away, and the closer we crept to the front of the building, the more overwhelmed I became. Reaching across the seat, I grabbed Max’s hand and gazed out the tinted windows. Outside the club, a line of patrons had formed that was at least a quarter of a mile long.

  “Look at all those people waiting to get in,” I muttered, shaking my head.

  “It’s a popular club. We won’t have to wait,” Max pointed out. “We’ll go through the other door with the two security guards standing in front of it.”

  I exhaled a sigh of relief, but still couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Exiting a vehicle was like its own choreographed dance, making damn sure nobody missed a step or chaos ensued. The car in front of us stopped and two guys exited the front seats. One of them opened the back door, and a leggy model stepped out, keeping her head down the entire time as her security team helped her into the building. The number of people wanting her picture astounded me. There had to be at least fifteen guys with cameras in their hands waiting to catch a glimpse of someone famous, and the flashes from their cameras nearly blinded me from inside Max’s vehicle.

  How bad were they going to be once we got out?

  “Hey,” Max said, squeezing my hand. His touch grabbed my attention and I mirrored his weak smile. “It’ll be okay. I’ll have a hold of your hand the whole time, and Manny and Tuck are going to block anyone who tries to get too close.”

  “Okay.”

  “Look straight ahead or keep your head down so the camera flashes don’t hurt your eyes,” he added.

  I nodded silently.

  “We’re next. Just follow my lead, and I’ll get you in safe and sound.”

  Manny pulled the vehicle to a stop, and he and Max’s other security guard, Tuck, exited the vehicle. Tuck came around and stood beside the driver side passenger door. Manny opened the door, and the sound of camera flashes and shouts of Max’s name filled my ears.

  “Max! Over here!”

  “Waters!”

  “Max!”

  “Max, look this way!”

  Max slid out of the vehicle gracefully, and then turned to help me out of the truck, ignoring the cameramen the entire time.

  “Get back!” Tuck shouted, pushing a gentleman away from the vehicle.

  “Max! Who’s your friend?”

  “Max!”

  Keeping my head down, I watched my feet hit the concrete and held Max’s hand tighter as my brain commanded my body to follow him. With each step I took, I tried to ignore the noise surrounding us, but it was deafening. The darkness of the night made the camera flashes seem brighter, but I kept my head down as Max had instructed. Strangers yelled at us to look at them just so they could get a photo, and I thought to myself, why would anyone want to be the paparazzi?

  Hell, why would anyone want to be famous?

  This is what hell must be like, being hounded to death by the bulbs of camera flashes and the people behind them.

  Once we were through the doors and safe inside, a weight lifted off my chest, knowing we were away from the scrutiny.

  “That was nuts!” I said, loosening my grip on Max.

  He chuckled softly. “It wasn’t too bad.”

  “Tuck had to tell them to back off,” I insisted.

  “They usually do have to push them back,” he said, resting his hand on my lower back. “Let’s go find everyone. Harper said they’d be on the second floor.”

  Max and I made our way up the stairs with Manny following a few steps behind us. Max occasionally waved at someone he recognized from afar, making me feel like a goldfish thrown into an ocean of sharks. A group of models I recognized from the Victoria’s Secret catalog celebrated at a table on the lower level, and a well-known singer belted out a song on stage in an impromptu performance. Athletes gathered with other athletes, while other stars littered the lower level dancing amongst nobodies. The black and gold interior of the club made it appear just as luxurious as its patrons. Big black tables lined by large gold upholstered booths offered people a place to relax, and each table offered bottle service.

  “This is unbelievable,” I mused.

  “What is?” Max asked.

  “The amount of famous people here,” I stated, nodding to the main floor.

  He laughed and leaned in close to speak into my ear. “Why do you think a lot of people were lined up outside? It’s not just for the bottle service.”

  We entered the second floor and I felt myself loosen up even more. The main level was definitely wilder than the upper. There were still a lot of people up here, but they weren’t dancing or acting obnoxious like the ones downstairs. Scanning the area, I saw Harper jump up from the U-shaped booth she and the others had secured, and wave us down. Max nodded at her and we quickly made our way over to them as Manny joined Harper’s security guard, Imani, at the table behind us.

  “Ooh, I love your dress,” Harper said, tugging on my hem.

  “Thanks!” I stated confidently, eyeing her outfit. She looked incredible in a black, mesh bodysuit with a black bra underneath that showed off her tattoos and a pair of high-waist jean shorts that highlighted her long, tan legs. “I’m too short to pull off the bodysuit look.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” she said.

  She and Maverick scooted in, creating room for Max and me to sit down. The booth was so big it held all thirteen of us comfortably.

  “Have you guys ordered drinks yet?”
Max asked.

  “No,” Fletcher said, raising his hand in the air. “We were waiting for you guys to get here.”

  A waitress quickly made her way over to our booth after being waved down by her boss.

  “What can I get for you and your guests, Mr. Haney?” she asked politely.

  Without checking with the rest of us, Fletcher ordered. “Bring us two bottles of Dom and thirteen glasses, a bottle of Grey Goose and a bottle of Blue Label. We’d also like Sprite, cranberry juice, and orange juice for our chasers, and then whatever else these guys want.”

  “A few cans of Red Bull,” Cash added.

  “Can we get a sour mix, too?” Carter asked.

  The waitress nodded as she wrote it all down on her notepad.

  Max wrapped his arm around my shoulders and asked, “Do you want something else?”

  “Oh, no, I can make a drink from what Fletcher ordered,” I said, weaving my fingers through his. “I’m not picky.”

  “Okay.”

  Drake cleared his throat and then spoke. “Can we also get a couple bottles of water?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “Uh, what the hell are you doing, Wilkins?” Fletcher asked, holding his hand up. “Nobody is drinking water tonight! It’s date night.”

  Max smothered a laugh into my hair and looked away from the group, but I ignored his antics and kept my eyes trained on Paige and Drake. They shared a smile, and Paige blinked away the mist in her eyes.

  “Ohmigawd!” Elly squealed, slapping her hands against Carter’s bicep. “Are you?”

  “Are they what?” Cash asked obliviously.

  “Pregnant, duh,” Bayler mocked.

  Tessa rolled her eyes at him. “Why else would she need water?”

  “Jesus, excuse me,” Cash stated with his hands in the air.

  Justin gave Cash a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Maybe she’s just not in the mood for alcohol. It doesn’t mean she’s actually pregnant.”

  “Can we all just focus here?” I finally said, earning a nod from Maverick.

  He pointed at me. “Yeah, what she said.”