Bossy Baller: A Hero Club Novel

by Melissa Belle

  And he’s still staring.

  “What?” I finally say. I touch my damp hair that’s hanging loose down my back. “I had to take out my rat’s nest of a hairdo. And yes, your clothes are a tad too big on me. But hey, we look kind of like twins, right?” I joke.

  He gives a slow shake of his head as he walks over to the bed. “No. We definitely do not look like twins.”

  I frown at him. “It was a joke, silly.” I pat the side of the bed I’ve designated as his. “Take a seat and eat. You must be hungry. Aren’t athletes big eaters?”

  He sits as far away from me as possible and picks up his burger. “We are, yes.” He nods in the direction of my plate. “You said you were starving. Eat.”

  I mock salute him. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Maverick

  Yes, sir.

  And just like that, my dick is at attention again.

  I worked like hell to tamp down my attraction to Hannah while I was walking to the restaurant, ordering us food, and jogging back to the room in the pouring rain.

  I convinced myself I could handle one night in a bed with this woman.

  But then, I saw her in my clothes. With no wedding dress or makeup covering her up, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and sweats and that long, midnight hair framing her face, I’m forced to face the truth once again—Hannah Walsh is downright gorgeous.

  And she’s going to kill me by the end of the night.

  We sit quietly, side by side, and eat. Hannah turns on the television at one point, and we watch a sitcom followed by a court drama.

  By the time the show ends, Hannah’s fallen asleep. She’s curled up by the pillows, with her empty plate still sitting by her feet.

  I clean everything up and pull down the covers on my side of the bed. Hannah doesn’t budge. I walk over to her edge of the bed and gently roll her until she’s underneath the sheet and blanket. She lets out a sigh, but her eyes remain closed.

  I turn off the lights and get into bed.

  I roll away from her and stay “on my side” as she instructed. I’m half asleep when she says in a sleepy tone, “I’m coming with you to Chicago.”

  WTF?

  Chapter Twelve

  I wake up with my arm flung over Hanna’s warm, sleepy body. I also have a serious hard-on. This awkward morning moment is exactly why I can’t travel with her. I slip out of bed quietly and go to the bathroom where I throw on my jeans. I grab my phone off the dresser, along with my key card, and I leave the room. I walk away from the door and call Chance.

  “What’s up, Mav? Did you get through the storm okay?”

  “No. Currently just outside L.A.” I tell him where I am and then fill him in on my stowaway.

  He busts up laughing. “So you got a traveling companion, huh? That brings back memories. Been there, done that.”

  I grit my teeth. “This is nothing like you and Aubrey. Did you miss the part where I said she was wearing a wedding dress?”

  “Thought you said she broke it off,” he says.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “What is the point then? Why are you calling me when you have someone to talk to in person?”

  “Because I need you to come pick her up and return her to her home.”

  “Return her?” Chance laughs. “Mav, she’s not a dog. I’m sure she had her reasons for leaving.”

  “I don’t care what her reasons are. I just… need you to come and help her out.”

  “You know I’d do anything for you, mate. But you’re on your own this time.”

  “Chance! Fuck.”

  “You need to get to Chicago. Now, so does she. It’s a win-win.” He chuckles. “So go win, champ. See you. Call me along the way so Aubrey and I can reminisce.”

  “You asshole. I told you, it’s not like that…”

  Silence. The bastard hung up on me.

  “You really are a cocky bastard, aren’t you?” I say into my phone.

  I try Colton next.

  He’s with a realtor looking for a place to live, but he says Dylan’s nearby. “He met some girl last night and she lives out by San Bernardino.” Colt laughs. “You know Dyl. He doesn’t have a good track record with women. He’s already texted me that he’s leaving her place.”

  Perfect. I text Dylan and ask him to meet me at the motel.

  One of the great things about Dylan is he won’t ask why you need his help. He just texts me back, “On my way.”

  I go inside the room to pack and get dressed. Hannah can apparently sleep through anything because she doesn’t even budge the entire time I’m in the room. I glance over at her hugging the pillow I’d slept on into her chest, and then I look away quickly. I can’t change my mind on letting her tag along. All that would come out of our trip is a messy situation. She’s just getting out of a serious relationship, and I’m not a guy who can be anything more than a rebound.

  And Hannah doesn’t strike me as a casual kind of girl.

  Despite what I tell myself, I walk closer to the bed. Her dark hair is half-covering her face, and I take a moment to brush a few stray hairs off of her soft cheek. She looks so innocent when she’s asleep. I drag my gaze away from her and watch out the window for Dylan.

  When I see him pull up alongside the truck and get out of the car, I step outside to meet him.

  “I’ve got a situation,” I say immediately.

  He tilts his head, his dark eyes narrowing underneath his baseball cap pulled low. “Okay. Shoot.”

  Before I can say more, the door to my room opens, and Hannah walks out.

  And I let out a choked cough.

  She’s wearing nothing but my t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts. She must have kicked off the sweatpants in the night.

  She looks between Dylan and me. “Good morning.”

  I introduce Dylan to her.

  “You’re a football player also?” she asks him.

  “Quarterback,” he says. “Mav here was one of my favorite receivers in college.”

  Hannah nods. “Cool.”

  I point to Dylan. “He’ll make sure you get home safe.”

  She shoots me a hard stare. “I told you I don’t have a home. That’s why I’m going to Chicago.”

  Dylan’s gaze shifts from amusement to curiosity. He looks from me to Hannah and back again. “What’s going on here?”

  I blow out a breath. “Hannah has had an unexpected change in plans.”

  She turns to Dylan. “I broke up with my fiancé the day we were supposed to get hitched.”

  He gives her a second look. “Wait. You’re not…are you…”

  “Yes,” I rush out, knowing exactly where he’s going. “Hannah was the woman at the courthouse in L.A.”

  His mouth curves up in a grin. “Huh. Interesting.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “And you two just happened to meet up?”

  “I kind of hitched a ride in his pickup,” Hannah explains, her tone sounding genuinely remorseful. “Maverick was kind enough to let me stay with him last night.”

  Dylan raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Not like that,” I say sharply. “Look, can you take her back to L.A. or not?”

  He gives a slow nod as his eyes sparkle with mischief. “Sure, I’ll take her back to the city.” He turns to Hannah. “And you can stay with me if you have nowhere else to go.”

  I step closer to Dylan. “Hold up. No fucking way is she staying with you.”

  He sidesteps me and puts an arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Why not?”

  “Because,” I say through pursed lips.

  The sound of a phone ringing pierces the awkward silence among the three of us. Hannah looks down at the phone in her hand.

  “Excuse me. I have to take this.”

  I wait until she’s walked out of earshot before I grab Dylan by the shoulder and pull him aside. “What the fuck are you doing?” I say in a low voice.

  “Helping you make up your mind. You asked me to take her off your hands.�
��

  “I didn’t say you could hit on her.”

  “Why not?” He stares at me like he’s trying to figure me out. “Do you want her?”

  I swallow. “She could sink a dozen ships with that baggage.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. Memories of Hannah’s warm body against mine when I woke up this morning hit me. The idea of having that for a week—I admit it’s tempting.

  “This was supposed to be a week of solitary time,” I mutter. “Just me.”

  “Looks like you’ve got a door number two.” Dylan waits until I’ve opened my eyes again before he adds, “You can’t have it both ways, Mav.”

  I look past him out at the highway beyond.

  “Your call. Three.” Dylan crosses his arms over his chest. “Two. One more and I’m taking her back to L.A. with me. Unless you don’t want to give her up?”

  “Fuck you, Wild.”

  His grin widens. “One.”

  “Fine, you fucker. I’ll drive her to Chicago.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “No way.”

  “Yes way.”

  “Hannah.” I rub the back of my neck like I’m going to tear off skin. “We’re not camping. This isn’t up for discussion.”

  “Mr. Bossy.” Her hands go to her sexy hips, and I swallow a groan. “I love the outdoors.”

  “I thought you said you’d never camped before.”

  “I haven’t. But I’ve always wanted to, and I love nature walks.” She heads for the driver’s side of the truck. “I’ll take the first leg of the day.”

  “No way. I hate being a passenger.”

  “Why does that fact not surprise me?” She smiles. “Okay, fine. We try camping tonight, but you can do all the driving. How’s that for a compromise?”

  “That’s…” Why do I feel like she just won? “Let’s see where we end up. First, we need to stop and get you some clothes. You can’t wear mine all trip. And if it’s late, we’ll just stay at a motel. Two rooms,” I add firmly.

  Hannah purses her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh. “Sure, two rooms. But if we camp—one tent, right? I’m scared of bears.”

  I groan. Bears are the absolute last thing I’m worried about when camping with my stowaway turned copilot.

  Hannah

  As we hit the highway, Maverick and I spend the first fifteen minutes fighting over the radio.

  He likes sports talk shows. Go figure.

  “Pop music? Shit, Hannah.”

  “What’s wrong with pop music? There’s a reason it’s popular. What do you like—alternative crap?”

  His mouth lifts in a half-grin. “No, I don’t prefer crap.”

  “Well, what do you suggest?”

  He exhales. “How about a compromise?”

  “Like what?”

  He clenches his jaw, a sign that I’m learning means he’s thinking of a solution.

  “Do you have any playlists on your phone?”

  I pick my phone off the floor. “Of course.”

  “Me, too.” He grabs his phone out of the console. “We’ll alternate. You choose a playlist. Then I do. Deal?”

  He turns his head to look at me. And my heart drops into my stomach like I’m on the world’s scariest roller coaster.

  That’s what Maverick Court does to me.

  From his dark eyes to his slightly messy hair that he constantly runs his hands through, never mind his sinfully hot body, Maverick is ridiculously attractive.

  Are all football players this hot? Maverick’s friend, Dylan, was also very handsome. And so was their blond friend from the courthouse. Maverick told me that guy was Dylan’s cousin, Colton, and that the three of them were teammates in college. So the Wild cousins are super-hot. And according to Maverick, all three guys are single.

  And yet…

  I only react chemically to the man I’m riding shotgun with. This fact worries me. If I can be around someone as good-looking and sexy as Dylan Wild and my pulse doesn’t race the way it does with Maverick Court, what does that say?

  I don’t think I should answer that question.

  Because Maverick has made it clear he’s not interested in me. He begrudgingly agreed to drive me to Chicago, and I’m aware I have Dylan to thank for that. Athletes are nothing if not competitive, and Dylan clearly pushed Maverick’s buttons when he flirted with me.

  I didn’t take his flirting seriously, and when he went to leave the motel parking lot, Dylan confirmed my thoughts by whispering, “Have a safe trip. I hope I didn’t offend you earlier.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  “Good. I just know Mav. Sometimes he needs a little push.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Dylan. “You’re saying you activated his competitive gene by making him think…”

  I trailed off, not sure what to say. I knew Maverick wasn’t interested in me, so why would he care if Dylan was?

  Dylan winked. “You two will figure it out.”

  Will we? I keep staring at Maverick, whose eyes have returned to the road.

  Without turning to look at me, he says, “What?”

  “Nothing.” I start scrolling through my phone. “I’m just thinking of what playlist to pick. Hmm. Something that will really annoy Mr. Bossy—what could that be?”

  My attempts to tease are rewarded when Maverick barks out a laugh.

  I make my selection, and the music fills the truck.

  Maverick shakes his head. “Destiny’s Child? Didn’t they break up years ago?”

  “That doesn’t make them any less awesome.” I shrug. “Plus, I need some girl power music right now.”

  He flicks his gaze over to me.

  “What happened to make you run, Hannah?”

  His question is so out of the blue that I flinch involuntarily.

  “Sorry.” He takes both hands off the wheel for a split second in a show of apology. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “I think you deserve to know the story,” I say softly. “Considering you helped me get away. Even if you weren’t aware you were helping me, I’ll always be grateful I saw you and your friends at your truck.”

  “Regardless of the reason why, I know you were fully planning to get married yesterday,” he says in a gruff tone. “And I’m sorry your plans were ruined.”

  “Thank you.” I pause. “You’re the first person to say that, actually. Not that I’ve told many people. I think…I’d like to save my failed-wedding story until later.”

  “Of course.” Maverick gestures to the open road ahead. “Why don’t we focus on finding somewhere to get you some clothes?”

  “Sounds good.” I start typing into my phone, and a couple of minutes later, I look up. “The next exit has a department store. I’m sure I can get whatever I need there.”

  An hour later, I leave the clothing store with two shopping bags. Maverick is sitting on a bench in the middle of the mall. He’s staring at his phone screen and typing away.

  “Are you texting with your girlfriend?” I say as I reach him.

  Yes, I’m totally fishing.

  He smirks like he knows exactly what I’m doing. Instead of answering my question, he pockets his phone and stands up.

  “You all set?” he asks as he eyes my bags.

  “All set.” I swing the bags out in front of me as we head for the exit. “I found enough clothes to last me for the week. Plus one cute sundress to wear when Kia takes me out for the requisite rebound sex night.”

  Maverick simultaneously coughs and stumbles forward, grabbing at a nearby pole to steady himself.

  I look at him. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  We’ve reached the mall exit, and Maverick opens the door and ushers me out ahead of him. The hot California sun hits me square in the face, and I blink at the brightness.

  “I bet I’m going to miss these sunny days when it’s wintertime in Chicago,” I comment as we walk across the par
king lot.

  “Yeah. It will be strange,” he says as we approach his truck.

  He opens the passenger door for me and offers to put my bags in the back.

  “I probably should have changed in the restroom, huh?” Suddenly, I feel self-conscious still wearing his t-shirt and sweats.

  “You look good in my clothes,” he says with a shrug.

  Our eyes lock before he clears his throat and opens the back door to deposit the bags.

  You look good in my clothes.

  I feel like I’m fangirling him as I watch him walk around the front of the truck and get into the driver’s side. He carries himself with this swagger like he’s used to people staring at him and he doesn’t pay it any mind.

  “Put on your seatbelt,” he orders as he turns on the engine.

  I sigh but do what he asks.

  Yeah, so Maverick is definitely bossy as hell. And kind of grumpy.

  But he has this other side, too. He can actually be almost…sweet.

  I take in a deep breath and rest my head against the back of the seat. Whatever he is or isn’t, one thing’s for sure—he’s going to be my travel companion for the next however many days it takes us to get to Chicago.

  So, I’m going to try to get underneath that bossy wall of Maverick Court’s and see what’s in there.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Maverick

  You look good in my clothes.

  Am I a fucking idiot?

  Hannah Walsh is off-limits. She may no longer be wearing a wedding dress, but to start something with a woman who’s brokenhearted and one day out of an engagement would be beyond stupid. I’d be taking advantage of her vulnerability, and I’m not that much of an asshole.

  Still…

  She’s not bad as a shotgun rider. Her taste in music clashes drastically with mine, but she’s got a good sense of humor, and she handled the whole Dylan hitting on her thing better than I would have.

  She also bought those bags of clothes a hell of a lot faster than I would have anticipated. Hannah is low-maintenance. That’s something I didn’t see a lot of with the women I’ve hooked up with. I always thought I liked the dressy, lots of makeup look, but in reality, that’s not true.