Hotter Than Ever

by Elle Kennedy

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Was she sick?”

  “No. She…she got run down by a drunk driver when she was picking me up from school one day.” His voice thickened with pain. “She pushed me out of the car’s path but didn’t manage to get herself out of the way in time.”

  Shock smashed into Dylan’s chest with the force of a jackhammer. Jesus Christ. This was the first he’d heard of it, and he had no idea how to respond.

  Next to Aidan, Claire gasped. “Oh my God. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m so sorry, Aidan.”

  There was a flash of movement in Dylan’s peripheral vision. When he looked over, he saw that Claire was gripping Aidan’s hand and stroking his knuckles.

  Dylan locked gazes with his roommate, unsure of what to say to the confession. “You never told me that before,” was what came out.

  Aidan shrugged. “I’ve never told anyone.”

  And yet he’d opened up to Claire.

  The jealousy or resentment Dylan expected to feel did not come. Instead, he was overcome by a strange rush of gratitude. He didn’t know why Aidan felt comfortable enough around Claire to share such a private snippet of information, but the revelation offered the insight Dylan had been seeking for months. It allowed some of the puzzle pieces to slide into place and explained the shadows in Aidan’s eyes.

  “Anyway, the holidays were my mom’s favorite time of year, so it makes sense that they bum my dad out.” Aidan’s voice took on that careless note that hinted he was about to change the subject. Which was exactly what he did. “By the way, Claire roots for the Niners too. So you two can console each other after your loss.”

  Claire was wise enough to drop the subject, sparking Dylan’s grudging approval. “You don’t need to win games to be awesome,” she said in a haughty tone. “Our guys can go oh-and-seventeen and would still be better than your Bears.”

  Dylan raised his beer in a mock toast. “Can’t argue with that.”

  The leather cushions squeaked as Claire leaned forward to pick up the plastic container he’d left on the table. She snapped open the lid, peered inside and made a delighted sound. “Oooh, these look so good.”

  It took about three seconds for Dylan to wish he’d never brought those cupcakes into the apartment. Because if he’d been aware of the way Claire ate cupcakes? He would have thrown them right into the trash.

  He hated that he was incapable of tearing his gaze from her mouth. But damn, she looked so fucking sexy nibbling on that chocolate cupcake.

  “Wow, your friend Shelby really knows how to bake,” she said with a little moan. “These are to die for.”

  When her tongue darted out to lick the pink icing, Dylan’s dick hardened and pressed against the zipper of his khaki shorts. Fortunately, his T-shirt was long enough that it covered his crotch. But there was no concealing the lust in his eyes, and when he shifted his gaze to Aidan, he saw that same rush of heat reflected back at him. That same flicker of interest that Dylan had seen so many times before, usually right before Aidan suggested to a woman that they all go back to his place.

  The eye contact caused an unspoken conversation to pass between them.

  “I want her naked, Dylan.”

  “Not gonna happen, bro.”

  “Jesus, but look how sexy she is.”

  “Tough shit.”

  “Um, what’s with the death-match stare down?”

  Claire’s voice interrupted the silent debate, and Dylan declared himself the winner when he saw the resignation settle over Aidan’s handsome face.

  “Just a football rivalry look we like to flash each other every few minutes,” Dylan lied. Then he took a swig of beer and pretended that everything was A-okay.

  Clearing his throat, Aidan turned to Claire. “So you and your dad watched football together, huh?”

  “Every Sunday,” she confirmed. “It was his only vice.”

  “Watching sports is a vice?”

  “Dad disapproves of the way organized sports go hand-in-hand with gambling.”

  “Is he very religious?” There was no judgment in Aidan’s question, just interest.

  “Not at all, if you can believe that.” Claire sighed. “He’s a strange man, my dad. Very by the book, and all about right and wrong. His moral code is impossible to meet, and he has the most archaic ideas about gender roles and how people ought to behave.”

  Dylan had been trying to focus on the game, but he unwittingly found himself shifting his attention to their conversation.

  “Sounds like an oppressive environment to grow up in,” Aidan remarked.

  “It was, at times. I always had to maintain this good-girl image around him, but if I’m being honest, I think he knew I was a lot wilder than I let on.” She laughed. “When I was in high school I used to sneak out all the time to meet my boyfriend, and even though my dad never said a word about it, I’m pretty sure he knew. Oh, and I’m convinced he grew wise to the fact that I was stealing his vodka and watering down what was left in the bottle.”

  Aidan laughed, and Dylan couldn’t help but join in. He got the feeling stealing your folks’ booze and replacing it with a liquid of the same color was a rite of passage or some shit.

  “Well, if he never called you out on any of that, he must not be as strict as you claim,” Aidan teased.

  “Oh, trust me, he’s strict. I think he let it slide, though, because as wild as I could get, I was also the most focused kid on the planet. I knew I wanted to go to business school, and I worked my ass off to get the grades for it.” She shrugged. “This probably sounds ridiculously arrogant, but I’m one of those people who can drink herself stupid or stay out all night partying and still manage to ace every test.”

  “So I’m guessing your father is really upset about what happened yesterday.”

  “He is, but not because the wedding didn’t happen. He’s furious with Chris for breaking my heart, and he didn’t believe me when I told him that canceling the wedding might have been for the best.”

  “What about your mother? Did you speak to her about it today?” Dylan instantly kicked himself for joining the conversation so readily, especially when he glimpsed Aidan’s pleased look.

  “Yeah, I did. I told her how a part of me is relieved we didn’t go through with it, and then I recruited her to convince my dad of it. The last thing I want is my father tracking down Chris and giving him a talking to.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s Dad’s equivalent of a beating. He just talks to you in a very low voice for several hours.”

  Aidan looked incredibly amused. “Sounds fun.”

  “Oh, sure, tons of fun.”

  An uneasy feeling filled Dylan’s stomach as he listened to the two of them chatting and laughing together. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to understand what his older brother had seen in this woman. She was smart, funny, beautiful, charming. On the surface, she was the complete package.

  However, he’d endured too many of her snooty remarks and judgmental opinions to buy her Miss-Cute-and-Lovable act.

  “What did he say to you?”

  Dylan frowned when he realized Claire was talking to him. “What did who say to me?”

  “Chris.” Her voice was soft now, lacking humor. “When he told you he didn’t want to marry me, what was his reason?”

  “I already told you. He said you weren’t right for each other.”

  “I’m sure he said more than that.”

  Dylan hesitated, taking a moment to decide how much loyalty he owed to his brother at this point, if any. He and Chris had been close when they were kids, but over the years they’d drifted apart. These days, his brother felt like a complete stranger to him. Hell, Chris hadn’t even contacted him since he’d taken off to Aruba, except to send a quick text letting Dylan know he’d landed safely.

  “He didn’t think you were a good match for him,” he finally revealed.

  “And?” she pressed.

  “And he mentioned something about you sharing personal
details with some of the country-club women.”

  A groove dug into her forehead. “Personal details? What kind of—” She gasped, and then her brown eyes darkened with disgust. “Oh my God. Did he dump me because I told a few rich girls about my vibrator?”

  The outburst startled both him and Aidan, and damned if Dylan didn’t immediately envision Claire lying naked on a bed holding a sex toy between her legs.

  The arousal hit him hard and fast, like an injection of heroin right into the vein. He gulped, trying to banish the dirty images wreaking havoc on his brain, but it was too late. They were branded in there forever.

  “Is that it?” Claire demanded, practically glaring at him.

  “He didn’t give me specifics,” Dylan said awkwardly.

  “Wow. Your brother is really something else. I mean, wow. He asked me to get rid of it, by the way. The vibrator.”

  Aidan choked out a laugh. “For real?”

  “He said only single women needed them. And you know what? Those women at the club? They all have secret sex toys hidden away too. Apparently their conservative defense-lawyer husbands share Chris’s view on mechanical interference in the bedroom. But I guarantee you none of them owned up to it when they were gossiping about me to their husbands.” Her lips tightened in a thin line. “What else did he say?”

  Dylan stifled a sigh. But hell, he was already in this deep. Might as well get it all out in the open. “He may have implied that you were unfaithful.”

  Claire’s cheeks hollowed as if she was grinding her teeth together. “He actually said I cheated on him?”

  “Not quite. He used the word indiscretion. But again, he didn’t provide any details.” He studied her face. “You don’t seem shocked by that.”

  “That’s because I know exactly what he’s referring to.” She must have noticed the way Dylan’s shoulders tensed because she hurried on. “I surprised him at the office one day for lunch and I had a run-in with one of his colleagues. This guy named Pres Maxwell, a total slimebag.”

  Maxwell… Dylan recognized the name. That was the same man who’d warned Chris that Claire wasn’t a “good prospect”. He kept that tidbit to himself, though, mostly because he didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire burning in Claire’s eyes.

  “Chris had to finish up with a client, so I went to wait for him in the associates’ lounge. Maxwell showed up and started pawing at me.” Scorn dripped from her every word. “I told him to get lost, but he was very persistent. He tried to convince me that all the associates slept with each other’s wives.”

  Aidan snorted. “Nice guy.”

  “I told Chris about it at lunch, but he brushed it off and insisted Maxwell must have been joking around. But that slimebag was not joking—he definitely wanted to get in my pants.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t lead him on in any way?” Dylan regretted the question the moment it slipped out of his mouth, but it was too late to take it back.

  In a nanosecond, Claire’s expression went from annoyed to enraged. “Are you serious?”

  He quickly tried to backpedal. “I’m just saying, maybe the guy thought you were sending some kind of signal and—”

  “Oh, because I said hello?” she interrupted sarcastically. “Because I asked him how he liked working at the firm? Is that what you consider a signal? That bastard cornered me against the wall and tried to shove his hand up my skirt, and I didn’t do a damn thing to invite it! I can’t believe you’d even think I would.”

  The bite to her tone raised his hackles. “I don’t know you, honey, and I’ve never seen the way you behave around other men. Maybe you’re throwing off come-hither signals left and right to every man in San Francisco.”

  Her jaw fell open. Then snapped shut.

  After a beat, she rose from the couch and pinned him down with a fierce look. “When I make a commitment to someone, I don’t throw off signals to other men. I was committed to your brother. I loved him, and I was planning on marrying him. I don’t give a shit what you think about me, but let it be known that I’ve never cheated on anyone in my entire life, and if for some reason I transmit come-hither signals then it’s definitely not done intentionally. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to boot up my laptop so I can book myself a flight home.”

  “Claire—” Aidan started.

  “No, I don’t want to hear it,” she cut in. “A moment of weakness drove me to come here, but I have no desire to stay where I’m not wanted and with people who think I’m some kind of horrible human being.”

  With that, she marched out of the living room in a huff, her red hair whipping behind her like an angry cloud.

  Several seconds ticked by. Dylan had no idea what to say, and the longer the silence between him and Aidan dragged on, the more irritated he got. To make matters worse, Aidan was just sitting there, his dark eyes shuttered, his body language tense.

  “Spit it out, Aid,” he ordered.

  “Fine. You were a real dick to her just now, is that what you want to hear?”

  “I’m a dick, huh? Why, because I asked a harmless question?”

  “Harmless, my ass. You felt like antagonizing her, so you did.” Now Aidan was the one standing up. “And for what it’s worth, I think the two of you have the most fucked-up perceptions of each other. Neither of you is the villain the other one thinks, and if you had one fucking conversation without sniping at each other, I think you’d really get along.”

  Bitterness trickled through him. “You just want me to get along with her so you can get her into bed.”

  Aidan responded with a harsh laugh. “Right, like you don’t want the same damn thing. You’ve been sporting a semi since the second she got here. You undress her with your eyes whenever she’s in the room. Oh, and you kissed her—thanks for mentioning that to me, by the way.”

  “She kissed me,” he grumbled. “And I didn’t mention it because it wasn’t a big deal, nor was it ever going to happen again.”

  “Can you at least admit that you want her?”

  “Christ. Fine. I want her. You happy now? But guess what, man, I want a lot of things. Wanting something doesn’t automatically mean it’s a good idea to go out and get it. So yeah, I think she’s hot, and yeah, she gets me hard, but I’m not going to act on it.” He let out a frustrated breath. “If you want to sleep with her, go ahead. You have my blessing, okay? But me, I have no intention of ever sleeping with the woman, so for fuck’s sake, leave me out of it.”

  Aidan didn’t know whether to curse or laugh as he left Dylan in the living room to cool off. Last time he’d seen Dylan this worked up over being attracted to someone, it had been toward Aidan himself. Dylan had been so freaked out about desiring a man out of the context of a threesome, and it had taken him a while to realize that sometimes you couldn’t help who you felt an attraction for.

  And now Dylan was fighting the way he felt about Claire. A blind person could see how much he wanted the woman, and Aidan didn’t blame him one damn bit. He’d known Claire for only two days and he could honestly say he’d never been more drawn to a woman.

  Not only that, but he found her presence strangely soothing. He was still reeling over the fact that he’d told her and Dylan about his mother’s death—that was something he never spoke of, yet when Claire had asked about his parents, the confession had slipped out without warning. And afterwards, he hadn’t felt exposed or embarrassed, the way he usually did when he revealed personal details about himself.

  Why did he feel so comfortable opening up to Claire when he’d been denying Dylan the same privilege for months now? He had no answer for that, but there was one thing he did know—he didn’t want Claire to go yet.

  Which was why he wasted no time in heading for Dylan’s bedroom so he could hopefully convince one very pissed-off redhead not to skip town.

  He rapped his knuckles on the door. “Claire, it’s Aidan. Can I come in?”

  A gloomy “Sure” came from the other side of the door.

  He s
tepped into the bedroom and found her on the bed with her MacBook in her lap. Her striped shirt had fallen off one shoulder, revealing smooth lily-white skin and making his fingers tingle with the urge to stroke all that softness.

  “Did you book a flight yet?” he asked.

  “No.” She met his eyes. “You here to talk me out of it?”

  “Yes.”

  Irritation flashed on her face. “Don’t bother. I’m not staying.”

  He smiled. “We both know you don’t want to go, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, really? Now you’re an expert on what I want?”

  Ignoring her squeaky protest, Aidan swiped the computer from her lap and walked over to set it on the dresser. He strode back to the bed and sat beside her. There was a foot of space between them, but he could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell her addictive lavender scent and see her pulse throbbing in her throat.

  “I know you don’t want to be in San Francisco right now,” he said with a shrug. “Your parents will drive you nuts by fussing over you, you’ll be sleeping in the apartment you shared with Chris—who at the moment is enjoying your honeymoon without you. And you’ve got three weeks off, so you’re just going to sit around bored and stuck in your own head.”

  Claire scowled at him. “At least that’s better than being accused of inviting a sexual assault.”

  “He didn’t mean that and you know it. Dylan’s just in a shitty mood and he decided to take it out on you.”

  “And that makes it right?” she challenged.

  “Not at all. Look, I’m not going to make excuses for him or apologize on his behalf, but you need to know that you’re wrong about him.” Aidan’s heart squeezed. “He’s a good guy, Claire. And he cares about people, sometimes a helluva lot more than he should. For some reason, you just rub him the wrong way.”

  “Well, the feeling is mutual.”

  “What about me?” he asked impulsively.

  Her forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

  “Do I rub you the wrong way?”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Of course not.”

  Smiling again, he angled his body so they were face-to-face instead of side by side. “You’ve enjoyed hanging out with me today, right?”