Deliciously Thick (Naked Brews Book 2)

by KB Jacobs

  “Mom, would you mind asking if we can take all this down to the children’s ward before I leave?”

  “Sure, honey.” She focused on my best friend. “If you’re gone before I get back, it was good seeing you, Simon. How’s Nicola feeling?”

  Simon and his wife were expecting a son at the beginning of October. They were both so excited, and I was excited for them. It was nice to see my best friend so happy and settled in his life even if it did make my chest ache sometimes to be around the two of them. Someday, I wanted that. Not now. Now I had other priorities, but someday I’d find what they had together and settle down.

  “She’s good. She just crossed into the second trimester, so she’s feeling much better now.”

  My mom sighed. “A baby. The next year is going to be filled with so many new experiences for the two of you. Enjoy it, because soon that child will be like this one”—she waved a hand at me—“raising hell and giving you both gray hairs.”

  “Hey,” I mumbled. “I’m not that bad.”

  She simply raised an imperious eyebrow and nodded her head at my hospital bed.

  “Point made,” I conceded.

  She nodded and gave me a sly look. “So maybe you should see about giving me grandbabies instead of gray hairs.”

  I choked on my spit as my mom strolled out of the room like the queen bee she was.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Simon burst out laughing.

  I rubbed at my temples again. “It’s not that funny.”

  “Yeah, it kind of is, especially knowing the parade of women you have coming in and out of your house. But I have a feeling that’s not the kind of girl your mom would want for your baby-momma.”

  “Heck no,” I agreed. But that led to thoughts about how I’d left my house last night and the state it might be in when I got home today. I was so screwed.

  Drake walked into my hospital room looking pale and shaken.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “This is really bad. Both Hi5 and Ski Balaclava have dropped their sponsorships, and Adrenaline is close. I managed to talk them off the ledge for now, but...”

  “Seriously? It’s just a sprain that I got when I saved someone’s life. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  “Well, yeah, of course, but your visibility is gone since you won’t be competing. They’re spending millions to get their product seen. Sitting on your couch isn’t going to work for them. I’m trying to fix this, but dammit, Anthony, this is why towns have fire departments. We’re just lucky that the girl wasn’t hurt during your idiotic heroics or else she could be suing you, and you’d be out even more millions.”

  “This is unbelievable.”

  “This is business.”

  I clenched my teeth. Those were my three biggest sponsors, and those contracts were worth millions of dollars a year. Millions of dollars that I now had to figure out how to live without. Not that I’d been stupid with the money I’d earned so far. I hadn’t, but the non-stop party didn’t pay for itself. Alcohol was expensive. Plus the sponsors covered all my equipment and contest fees, neither of which was cheap. No sponsors would mean some serious changes, and none of them good. All because I’d gotten wrapped up with a pretty face in the window.

  Frack.

  Chapter 4

  Melissa

  I parked my car in the crowded hospital parking lot and pulled down my visor mirror. My puffy blue eyes reflected back at me. After my crying jag in the apartment, I’d had a mini meltdown while loading my few remaining possessions into William. I was overwhelmed when I sat down in the driver’s seat. Everything had been such a horrific mess. Between the smoke and water, I had nothing left. I didn’t know what to do now. Another sob caught in my throat.

  No.

  I couldn’t go there again. I was alive and safe thanks to the man in this hospital. I needed to focus on thanking him right now, nothing else. One step at a time. The rest would be dealt with later.

  Shit. Nothing like meeting the person who saved your life while looking like you just finished an all-night bender. I dabbed some concealer around my eyes and slapped on some lip gloss. That was as good as it was going to get for now. Tomorrow I’d feel better...after I got a good night’s sleep. Of course, crashing with Lake and Walsh meant sleep was unlikely tonight.

  I rushed with my gifts through the cold late morning air into the warm waiting room. It was mostly empty except for a handful of media people lingering on the molded plastic chairs. Ignoring them, I headed straight to the admissions desk.

  “Pssttt.” A nurse waved me over from the edge of the waiting room. When I walked over, she grabbed me by the elbow and led me around the corner and down a fluorescent-lit hallway.

  “What—”

  “You’re Melissa, right?” She nodded, so I nodded with her. “I remember you from when they brought you in last night. The wolves will sink their teeth into you if they realize who you are. I’m Susan, and I’ll be pissed if blood is drawn in my hospital and it’s not by me. Third floor, room 309. Elevators are on the left.”

  She turned on her heels and strode back into the waiting room, her voice echoing down the empty hall while she chastised the news crews for crowding her waiting room.

  I followed her directions and took the elevator up to Anthony’s floor. There weren’t any waiting media, but the floor was just as loud. Shouting sounded down the hall, and my heart sank when I realized exactly which room it was coming from. Anthony’s.

  For a good ten seconds, I stood in front of the elevators contemplating turning around and fleeing right back out of here. But then I imagined my mother laying into me for chickening out and being so rude to the guy who literally pulled me from a burning building.

  I tugged on the hem of my shirt to pull it down a bit lower. The red “Keep Calm and Carry On” Henley was one of my favorites, but it was in the plastic tote in the back of my closet because too many washings had shrunk it two sizes too small. My jeans were the same story. I felt like an overexposed hussy, but there wasn’t much I could do about it until I got my clothes back from the dry cleaners.

  Counting slowly, I gave myself to the count of five to get my act together. Steady breaths, anchored by the twinges of pain that proved I’d lived helped to steady my nerves. This was no big deal. Just a quick thank you so much for running into a burning building and saving my life. Please enjoy this basket of delicious scones.

  Lake was right. This was an awful idea. Anthony was probably inside his room surrounded by friends and family while he recovered from a heroic night of lifesaving. The last thing he needed was a reminder of how he got a hurt, a dozen blueberry scones, and a “Get Well Soon” balloon.

  But I was here, and saying thank you was the least I could do. I marched to his room and paused in the doorway.

  “I pay you a lot of money, and it’s not because I think you’re a sharp dresser. Fix this, and fix it fast before we’re both out of a job.”

  I knocked on the metal doorframe and three sets of eyes swiveled to me.

  A man in a fancy suit and an expensive phone in one hand rushed over and blocked the door. “How the hell did you get up here?” he asked, though he was staring down the hall over my shoulder. “Security.”

  “Drake,” a rough voice called from the room. “What’s wrong with you? Let her in here.”

  Drake stepped back, and there he was. My knight in shining armor was laid up in a hospital bed with a decent-sized brace covering most of his left leg below the knee.

  I’d seen pictures of the famous Anthony Millett online, but in person he was larger than life, even lying in bed. His dark skin was smooth except for the stubble covering his chin after a night in the hospital. Purple tinted the ends of his dreadlocks, and his brown eyes were a dark mahogany with subtle flecks of gold. Those eyes were lit up like the fourth of July at the moment, which probably had something to do with the shouting taking place here just a second ago.

  “Hi,” another man call
ed from a chair in the corner, making me realize I’d spent longer than socially acceptable staring at a very handsome Anthony and not saying a word.

  I tugged at the hem of my shirt again. “Hi.” This was not awkward...at...all.

  Anthony sat up a bit, but his movements were slow and careful. “So, you’re Melissa, right?”

  I nodded and focused on unfreezing my tongue. Anthony was an Adonis. Like a sculptor should be in here with a block of marble, chiseling this perfection into a work of art for the ages. Even with his shirt on, his dark, tattooed arms bulged, hinting at more muscles hidden underneath. I imagined running my fingertips along the black swirls of ink, running my tongue—

  “Did you come here for a reason?” Anthony pulled his dreads back into a low ponytail, the purple tips resting against his broad shoulders.

  I dragged myself out of the unbelievably inappropriate daydream and refocused. Anthony might be hot enough to pose for romance covers, but that was not why I was there.

  “Right.” I took a painful breath and blew it out. “I wanted to come over and say thank you for...for rescuing me.”

  Anthony nodded, staring at his ankle.

  “It was really brave the way you ran into the building. I never imagined in a million years I'd ever need to use that fire escape. Maybe I shouldn’t have put the curio cabinet there.” I held up the basket. “I brought you a balloon and some scones.”

  A phone rang, and well-dressed Drake held up his hand to stare at the screen. His mouth pinched into a scowl, and he shook his head at Anthony before answering the call and heading out of the room.

  “Wow, scones.” Anthony’s face lit up, but his tone made it clear it wasn’t sincere. “I sprained a ligament saving you last night, bringing my season to an end. I might end up with surgery that could completely derail if not end my career. Sponsors have been calling all morning to terminate my contracts, and I’ve lost about two million dollars so far today. But I feel so much better now that I have a basket of scones. Did you bring some clotted cream, too?” His face darkened as he spoke, and his voice dropped until he was almost growling at me.

  I shook my head. This had been such a bad idea. He was an athlete who’d gotten hurt because of me. His career depended on his body working the way it was supposed to. Nausea churned deep in my stomach. “I can bring over some cream if you’d like,” I said softly.

  “I don’t need cream.” His words hissed out, barely more than a whisper but filled with venom. “I don’t need scones. And I absolutely don’t need your proper, but meaningless ‘thank you.’ I need to take a nap. I’m sure you can find your way out.”

  He rolled onto his side with his back toward me. The man in the corner gave me an apologetic half-smile, but it did nothing to ease the tumbling act taking place in my stomach.

  I left the basket and sprinted back down to the lobby and past the still-waiting throng of reporters, not stopping until I was safely behind the wheel of William, revving the engine. It was done. I said thank you and made my peace, and now, I never had to see the pretentious, arrogant, bloody idiot who saved my life ever again.

  Chapter 5

  Anthony

  I sunk my head into my hands. Christ, that had been rough. The hurt on Melissa’s face... I shook my head to shake the image out of it, but that didn’t work. Maybe if I banged it against the wall, it would work better. She’d come in here with stars in her eyes, looking at me like I was her damn hero. I wasn’t anyone’s hero.

  She was sweet, gorgeous, and pure, and...so freaking sweet. No one like that needed to get mixed up in the circus of my life. For weeks I’d been obsessing about her...my Juliet in the window, but up close she was so much more and way too good for a ski bum like me. Heck, I had some strange girl’s panties under my pillow where I’d stuffed them in embarrassment after a nurse slipped them to me earlier. That was the reality of my life. Sweet, little, innocent young things didn’t belong in it...no matter how much I might want her to.

  The back of my neck prickled. I glanced up and again met my mom’s angry scowl as she stepped into my hospital room. My stomach plummeted to my feet. Wow, I was really screwing up things with her today.

  I don’t think she’d stayed this angry with me since the time I tried a switch-stance slide down the side of her car. I was thirteen and stupid. It had taken me six months to pay for the new paint job for that old Buick.

  But this was worse. So much worse. She and I both knew it.

  In fact, judging from the displeased faces around the room, everyone knew it, including the nurse who’d come in to make notes on the clipboard in the corner. Nothing like alienating every person in my life.

  My mom had her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, the fury coming off her in waves.

  I waited, not wanting to make it worse by sticking my foot in my mouth.

  The vibration of her anger pulsed like a living thing in the quiet room. “Anthony Wallace Millett, I don’t even know what to say to you right now.” Her steel tone sledgehammered into my already battered body. “I didn’t raise you to be a lout and a bully, but obviously I failed somewhere.” She began to pace, her agitation needing an outlet.

  I’d done that to her, brought my levelheaded, calm mom to this place.

  Guilt and shame swamped me. I swallowed against the lump in my throat, getting ready to say...something, anything to make this better.

  “No!” She held up her hand to keep me quiet. “Let me finish, because honestly I don’t want to hear your excuses.” She clutched at the necklace with the green-man fairy’s mask charm that my dad had given her when they were dating. The symbol from her favorite Shakespeare work, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, she’d used it as a calming method as long as I’d known her. It was a touchstone to my dad and the comforting, loving connection the two of them had.

  I’d always admired their connection...there was so much love and respect there. In fact, it was pretty much the exact opposite of how I’d just treated Melissa. Frack!

  Mom’s talisman wasn’t working to calm her today. She threw her hands up in the air and punched her finger at me. “You know better.” She stilled and looked at me, allowing me to see the full force of her anger and disappointment. After years of teaching high school, she knew how to control her temper. To see her close to losing it now meant I’d really screwed up here.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice shattered with shame.

  She shook her head. “I’m not the person you need to apologize to. Melissa did nothing to deserve that kind of treatment.” She blew out a gusty sigh.

  “I know all this”—she waved her hand around at my small entourage cowering from her wrath in the hospital room—“meant your childhood and transition into adulthood was different than most. So I’ve tried to hold my tongue when you acted like a college frat boy rather than a responsible adult. But that ends now. I can’t believe how you treated Melissa. I don’t care how much pain you’re in or how upset you are about this speed bump to your career.”

  She waved a hand at the door. “The way you treated that girl—unacceptable. Your career means nothing if the man behind it is a disgrace.” She shook her head.

  Never in my life had I felt more miserable and small than I did in this moment. So why the heck had I just blown up at Melissa? Because she walked in right when I needed someone to blame for my situation. Someone that wasn’t me. “You’re right, Mom. I’ll talk to her. I’ll fix this.”

  She pressed her lips together and glanced down at my braced ankle. “Obviously, you’ve forgotten the lessons I’ve taught you.” She nodded as if she’d made a decision. “I need to talk to your father, but I think it would be best if I move in to help you during this time, both as a reminder about how civilized people act and to help with your recovery so you aren’t in so much pain that you’re an asshole to the others around you.”

  “But...” My mom had said asshole. She’d called me an asshole. She never cursed. In fact, that was the one holdover I had fr
om growing up with her. I never cursed because she hated it. That stunned me so much it was hard to think about the rest of what she’d said. Wait a minute...

  She wanted to move in with me?

  By the time I’d recovered enough from the shock, she had gathered up her purse and was headed toward the door. “I’ll be back after I see how much work your house needs to be habitable again.”

  I sat there, immobile with shock. Mom was headed to my house. The odds were good that more than one used condom lay thrown on the floor. Christ on a cracker. In one night, I’d lost control of my entire life. I glanced down at the still-warm scones sitting in my lap, ready to bury myself with the calories and fat I could practically smell oozing from them.

  But before I had a chance, my mom swept back into the room and scooped the basket off my lap. “I don’t care what you did last night; your actions today mean you don’t deserve these.” Then she was gone, taking my scones with her.

  I was pretty sure she’d taken my ego with her, too. So much for my reputation as the Bad Boy of Boarding. Even bad boys could be taken to task by their mothers. I never wanted to face her like that again.

  I took a deep breath and cursed internally when the air scratched my irritated lungs.

  “She’s right, you know,” Simon chimed in. “You were a real asshole to that sweet girl. When are you going to grow up?”

  “Well, unlike most kids, I spent my youth developing my career instead of goofing off.” Being attacked by my mom was one thing. Letting my best friend lay into me when he should have my back above anything else was a whole other beast. “I think I’ve earned my chance to party, to enjoy some of the freaking rewards for all those efforts. I didn’t get to go to prom or homecoming. Hell, I barely graduated from high school, and that was only because of tutors. But all of that made me who I am. I am darn good at being Triple B, so excuse me if I embrace my talents.” I spread my hands wide. “I am Triple B. Join me for the party.” Anger made my words sound like bullets.