Bossy Baller: A Hero Club Novel

by Melissa Belle

  And then, I take a look at my clothes.

  I don’t have many options. But I do want to feel good tonight. Sexy. Seeing Craig again for the first time since the courthouse sucked. So, I’m going to dress up.

  Maverick

  Holy hell. When Hannah steps out of the bathroom, I shove my hands into my pants pockets so I won’t reach for her.

  She’s wearing a pale yellow sundress with strappy sandals that show off her tanned, toned legs. Her breasts fill out the fabric of the dress to perfection with just enough of a hint of cleavage to make me want to see more.

  “Are you a gambler?” she asks me immediately.

  I drag my gaze up from her chest to find her glaring at me.

  “What?” I say innocently.

  “You were staring at my chest.” She crosses her arms purposefully. “Quite liberally. Like you were willing to risk being told off.”

  “It was unplanned,” I say.

  “Haven’t you seen a woman’s cleavage before?”

  I break into a chuckle. “Is this a trick question?”

  Hannah furrows her brow. “No. It’s a serious question. Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” I tease her.

  “Yes. Sort of. Because I’ll be honest, Maverick—part of me likes that you were checking me out.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I forget about my plans to not flirt with her as I step closer. “What part?”

  She winks. “My ego. Because now we’re even, you and I.”

  I cock my head. “Even? I don’t follow.”

  “You saw me check you out at the courthouse. I know you did.”

  I take another step into her space so our toes are nearly touching. “Yeah, well, I’ll let you in on a secret, Hannah. My ego wasn’t the only part of me that reacted to you that day.”

  Her breath turns shallow. “No?”

  I shake my head. “No.” I shift my gaze to her sundress. “Is this the dress you said you bought for your night of requisite rebound sex?”

  “Yes.” Her ice-blue eyes darken. “Maverick, I…”

  Whatever she was about to say is drowned out by the blaring ring of my cell phone in my pocket. Hannah jumps, and I step back from her.

  I fish my phone out and glance at the screen.

  “Colt,” I say as I swipe to answer. “What’s going on?”

  “You sound weird,” he says in response.

  I clear my throat. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

  “Dylan and I are flying to Denver in a couple of days. Dylan has to film an ad for a sponsor, and I’m going to be in the commercial with him.”

  I grin. “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah. Should be fun.”

  “Why Denver?” I ask.

  “The ad is for an energy drink, and their headquarters are in Denver, so they want the whole mountain setting included in the shoot.”

  “Got it.”

  “Does that work out with your timing at all? I thought I’d take a shot and see if you’d be in the area.”

  “You know, that actually should line up.” I glance at Hannah for the first time since I answered the phone. She’s standing stock still against the wall, but her gaze is on me. I turn toward the window. “We’re in Vegas right now.”

  Colton chuckles. “How are you and your runaway bride getting along?”

  “Fine,” I say quickly, hoping to shut him down.

  It doesn’t work.

  “Dylan said he thought there might be a potential of you two…”

  “Got to go, Colt,” I cut him off at the pass. “Text me the details of your trip, and we’ll plan to meet up.”

  “With your road trip partner, too!” he calls out as I’m about to end the call. “Make sure she knows she’s welcome to join us.”

  “Got it,” I say as I hang up.

  I turn back to face Hannah. Whatever moment the two of us were in before Colton called is broken and replaced by an awkward silence.

  “Colton and Dylan are going to meet us in Denver,” I say into the thick air.

  “That’s great.”

  “You ready to eat?”

  She already has her purse in her hand. “All set.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hannah

  Turns out Maverick and I have the same taste in food.

  “Mexican,” we both say after I suggest we just blurt out what kind of restaurant we’d like to eat at.

  His dark eyes swirl with amusement. “That was too easy,” he says as we take the elevator down to the main level and head for the restaurant section.

  We walk comfortably together although I’m secretly still catching my breath from whatever the hell almost happened back in our room. I don’t have a lot of experience with men. I’ve slept with Craig and…that’s it.

  And in the five minutes they were together, Maverick Court overwhelmed Craig’s presence without even trying. Maverick walks through life with this aura around him like he was born to be a star. And it’s not an act—from the little I know of him, being confident is who he is. Something tells me sex with Maverick would be on another level from anything I’ve ever experienced. Just the thought of him fucking me sends my stomach into cartwheels. It almost feels like a fantasy if I’m honest. And right now, a fantasy sounds pretty perfect.

  When we reach the wooden doors to the Mexican restaurant, Maverick halts.

  “Forgot to check if I brought my wallet,” he says to me with an apologetic smile.

  “I can treat us, no problem,” I say.

  “Nope. My treat. In fact, you’ll be the first person I’ve taken out since I officially signed my contract.” He shoots me a cocky grin. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer, Hannah.”

  I laugh. “I think you’re the one with the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be a professional athlete, not me. But I appreciate your generosity.”

  As he reaches into his back pocket to check for his wallet, my gaze snags on the sliver of bare skin between his low-riding jeans and where his t-shirt rides up.

  Every heightened sensation from earlier at the hotel returns, and I literally have to clench my hands into fists to stop myself from touching him.

  That moment we shared in our room caught me off-guard. Up till then, I had thought the physical attraction between us was only coming from me. But Maverick’s an honest guy, and he was definitely flirting with me before Colton called him.

  Despite how off-kilter my life is right now, I wish Maverick had kissed me. I want to feel his mouth against mine, not to mention his fit body. The way he pinned Craig against his car so effortlessly was definitely something I took a guilty pleasure in. I think what affected me even more, though, was how my heart reacted.

  I was serious when I told Maverick no one had stood up for me like that before.

  Like he can read my mind, the moment we sit down at a booth in the back of the restaurant, Maverick says, “How come you aren’t used to people having your back?”

  I wait to answer him while the hostess comes by with menus.

  She gives Maverick a long once-over and an over-the-top wink before leaving us alone.

  I roll my eyes. “She was subtle.”

  He smirks. “You jealous?”

  “Not at all,” I say. I don’t even believe my own lie; there’s no way he’s going to.

  He glosses over it, though, and fixes his intense dark eyes on me. “You never answered my question.”

  I fiddle with the thick laminated menu in my hands. “Outside of my college roommate, I don’t have a lot of people in my corner right now. Once I started dating Craig, his friends became my friends. And they’ll stay his friends.”

  “So you mean they’re shitty people,” Maverick summarizes.

  “Well, they’re loyal to him, not me.” I raise my head to meet his steady gaze. “Craig slept with my maid of honor right before our wedding.”

  “Christ,” Maverick mutters. “That must have felt like a double betrayal.”

  “That’s exactly what it felt
like.”

  We go silent as our waitress bounces over. She’s a platinum-blonde with green eyes that focus solely on Maverick. She doesn’t spare me a glance as she beams at him.

  “Hi, there. Do I know you?” She keeps staring at him as she fills our waters, barely missing my lap as she pours.

  A smile plays around Maverick’s lips. “I doubt it.”

  “Why’s that?” She cocks her hip and leans closer to him. “I know lots of celebrities.”

  “I’m sure you do,” he says politely. “But I’m not a celebrity.”

  The waitress shrugs. “You’re sexy. And I’m available. Are you free tonight?”

  Holy crap.

  Talk about not having to work for a date. All he did was sit down and pick up a menu.

  But like he’s done since I met him, Maverick catches me by surprise. He glances over at me and winks.

  “I’ve already got a date for tonight. We’re here to eat, so if you could please take our orders.”

  The waitress turns and glares at me. “Oh.” She straightens up. “Of course.”

  I order a chicken taco, and Maverick asks for a burrito. We decide to share a basket of tortilla chips and a side of guacamole.

  After the server leaves, I raise my eyebrows at him playfully. “Do you always snag dates with that little effort? And people think you’re a Hollywood star?”

  “Sometimes,” he says honestly.

  “I didn’t have that experience,” I say. “Maybe when a man looks like this—” I wave my hand in his general direction. “You think it’s normal. But it’s really not.”

  “And when a woman looks like this…” He playfully waves his hand in my direction as I had just done toward him. “You could easily be mistaken for a model or actress. Whether you want to admit that fact or not.”

  I feel my face flush with heat. “I appreciate the compliment, Maverick, but…”

  “You think I’m just trying to placate you?” His dark stare grows so intense I turn away. “Hannah. Look at me.”

  I drag my gaze back to him. “Bossy as ever,” I murmur.

  Maverick raises his eyebrows. “I think you like it when I’m bossy.”

  I don’t want to admit to him how right he is. Something about his confident swagger turns me on.

  He studies my face. “Hannah, I’m bossy when I know I’m right. And the truth is—you’re stunningly gorgeous.”

  I widen my eyes. “You’re refreshingly forthright,” I tell him as I place the backs of my hands against my suddenly hot cheeks.

  The server comes by with our chips and guacamole, and we go quiet for a few minutes as we dig into our appetizer.

  I peek up at Maverick now and again. I could look at him all day, but luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice. Probably because he’s used to women staring at him.

  “So other than your asshole ex-friends,” he continues as if we were never interrupted. “Who else is there for you?”

  “Um…” I drag a chip through the bowl of guacamole. “My college roommate, Kia. That’s who I’m going to stay with in Chicago. And outside of her, I run pretty solo. I don’t have any family left.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maverick murmurs.

  His words come out halting, and pain clouds his dark eyes. Over the years, I’ve learned to differentiate between a sympathetic sentiment and an empathetic one. Maverick clearly has experienced loss before.

  “Thank you.”

  There’s a slight pause before he asks me softly, “How long have you been alone?”

  I swallow down my emotion. “Since I was eighteen. My freshman year in college, my parents died in a car crash. I didn’t have any siblings, and they were both only children, so I don’t have other relatives.”

  “So it’s just you.” He reaches for my hand across the table and touches it briefly.

  “Yeah. Well, for years, it was Craig and me. But now…just me.” As I say the words out loud, I realize losing Craig is like losing a security blanket. “Honestly—and right now is the first time I’m truly admitting this—I don’t actually miss him as a person. I think what I’m going to miss is having someone to walk through life with. Because not having a witness for all the little things is hard.”

  Conflicting emotions flicker across Maverick’s face like he’s debating whether or not to speak. After a moment, he does.

  “I get what you’re saying,” he says quietly. “We lost my mom when I was a teenager. It was like my safety net disappeared. And I felt like I’d lost my best friend.”

  “I wish you hadn’t had to go through that.” I reach for his hand. But when I find it, I don’t pull back right away. I interlace my fingers with his and leave them that way.

  His expression shifts from sadness to wariness. “Hannah…”

  “What?” I smile at him innocently. “Can’t two road-trippers hold hands once in a while?”

  “I’m not sure,” he says slowly like he’s trying to decide himself. “Spending this much time with a woman is new to me.”

  “Really? You look like the kind of guy who’d bump into a woman and end up dating her.”

  He barks out a laugh. “What kind of a life do you think I lead? I’m not some crazy player, Hannah,” he adds seriously. “Yeah, I don’t do commitments. Or girlfriends. But that’s because I don’t have time for anything other than football and my family.”

  “Do you go on a lot of casual dates?” I ask him, trying to sound breezy but failing utterly. My words sound breathy to my own ears.

  But he doesn’t call out my obvious curiosity. He simply says, “I did in college, yeah. After-game parties and stuff.” He trails off vaguely like he’s uncomfortable.

  Which would make two of us. “You must have gone to a lot of parties,” I say awkwardly.

  “No more than any other college kid. I mean, maybe I did do a little extra.” His mouth quirks up. “As a football player, you’re not exactly lacking for a social life. But you can feel just as lonely at a party as when you’re alone in your room.”

  Right. I bet he was super lonely with an endless number of girls falling all over him. “I didn’t go to many parties myself,” I say. “I guess because I was already spoken for.”

  “You were in a relationship all through college?”

  “Yep. I met Craig my first year, and that was it.” I add, “Going to a casino with you will probably be the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done.”

  “I think the most impulsive thing you’ve ever done is jump into the back of some guy’s truck in your wedding dress,” he says with an admiring grin. “Having the courage to walk away from something you didn’t feel right about is a lot braver than going to a bunch of college parties.”

  “Chicken burrito?” The server appears with our meals, and our private bubble is broken.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Maverick

  Hannah digs her teeth into her bottom lip as she stares hard at the slot machine.

  “This is the last of the cash I set aside to gamble with,” she mutters. “Maybe my luck will turn for the better.”

  “You deserve that,” I tell her.

  “You’re sweet, Maverick.”

  She smiles at me, and my pulse picks up.

  And then, she proceeds to stare at the machine for the next few minutes.

  I put my hand on her shoulder. I’m not sure if I imagine it or not, but I think she shivers.

  “We can move to a different set of machines if you’d rather,” I say.

  “I’m fine. Here goes nothing.” She slides in the last of her chips.

  And…

  Nothing.

  “No way!” Hannah bangs the slot machine in frustration as it takes the rest of her money.

  “I’m glad you only allowed yourself to gamble fifty dollars total,” I tease her.

  “I know, right? You’ve done well, though, Mav.”

  That’s the first time she’s called me Mav, and for some reason, the sound of it rolling off her tongue gets me go
ing. Unable to stop myself, I put my hand on her lower back as she steps away from the machine.

  I’ve only spent the same amount she has, but I’ve made back double that. And that’s where I’m stopping. I didn’t sign a contract in the pros to gamble it all away. “What do you want to do now?” I ask. “My treat.”

  Hannah doesn’t answer as she stares past me. Her face has gone pale.

  “Hannah?” I ask her. “Everything okay?”

  “Craig’s here,” she says in a flat tone. “He’s watching us.”

  I shift until I see him in my periphery. And something inside me snaps. Seeing the effect he has on Hannah irritates the fuck out of me.

  “Let’s show him something he won’t forget,” I whisper to her. “Do you trust me?”

  She turns so our faces are inches apart. “Yes,” she whispers back. “What do you have in mind?”

  I put my hands on her shoulders and gently turn her so her back is to him. “This.”

  Leaning closer, I cup her face so my index finger touches the corner of her mouth. Then, I bend down and cover my finger with my mouth.

  When she grips my bicep in response, I cup her jaw with my other hand and press my body against hers. From Craig’s angle, it looks like we’re kissing.

  And Christ, do I wish we were.

  Hannah’s floral scent mixed with lemons permeates my senses. Her body is soft and fits perfectly with mine. I go to withdraw my finger so I can kiss her mouth. But she abruptly goes completely still, almost like she’s stopped breathing.

  Worried I’ve taken things too far, I pull back and glance over her shoulder.

  The fucker is storming toward us.

  “Hannah,” he says curtly.

  I drop my hands off her face but put my arm around her waist and keep her close to me.

  “If you’re serious about not marrying me…” he begins.

  “I am,” she says. “I believe I’ve made that perfectly clear several times already.”

  His face reddens. “I won’t give you a reference for your Ph.D. application. Just remember that.”

  “You’re an ass,” she says. “I don’t need it, anyway.”

  “Of course you do. But you’re not going to get it. Your loss.” He turns on his heel and storms off.