by Elise Faber
“I’m heading out, man. Good game! Call me tomorrow—”
“Dude. We are going out tonight. Don’t you dare bail on me. Again.” Bryce leveled me with a warning glare.
“Bryce—”
“No. Nope, shut up I don’t want to hear your lame ass excuses. You’re going if I have to tie you to the top of my Range Rover, so deal.” He gave me a shrug and walked off. “Don’t think you’ll sneak away. I know where you live, bro.”
“Damn,” I muttered.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to celebrate with him; it was just that, well… Ava would be there.
And I tried to avoid any and all contact with her. As far as I knew, we were still in the you’re-dead-to-me stage of life. Fan-freaking-tastic.
“Ten minutes,” Bryce called out, and I groaned.
This… was going to be bad.
I pulled out my phone and started shooting off emails, prepping for Monday morning, when Bryce laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You ready?”
“No.” I gave him a hard glare over my black-rimmed glasses.
“Sweet. Let’s go.” He all but manhandled me to the parking garage, the one guarded by security and only used by the players. I’d taken a taxi, so I didn’t have to worry about my car, but that was the least of my worries. As we stepped off the elevator, I glanced to Bryce’s parking spot and swore.
Long, olive-toned legs drew my attention, and I greedily allowed my gaze to slowly travel up the curve of her hips, accentuating the tuck of her waist, to the swell of her breasts covered by a leather jacket, but I saved my favorite for last.
Even in a frown, her dimples winked at me, teasing me with the knowledge that they existed — but not for me, not anymore. As we approached, I saw her stiffen, caramel eyes narrowed in my direction as hostility rolled off her in waves.
“I see you brought Satan with you. Tell me, how much did you have to sell out to get your company to move you to Seattle? Or was my brother too much of a meal ticket for them to complain much?” she asked, her red lips sneering with every word as she swept her espresso-colored ponytail over her shoulder.
“Retract the claws, Av. I already told you. Markus—”
She held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Play nice. He’s coming with us.” Bryce leveled a glare at her, daring her to fight him on it. Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze shifted from me to him then back. With a deep sigh, she turned away, walking to the front seat of the Range Rover, waiting for him to unlock it.
“Hello to you too, Ava,” I murmured, watching as her gaze again flickered to me then back to the door.
When the door unlocked, she slid into the seat quickly then shut the door so fast that if my hand had been anywhere near it, I’d have lost a few fingers.
I opened my own door, staring at the black leather seats; it was going to be a long ride.
Ava
HE WAS TOO close. And no matter how much I tried to keep him away, my stupid ass of a brother kept trying to get us to make up, be friends — again.
But it was pointless. Bryce only saw the good in people. He gave them shot after shot, chance after chance. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… well, let’s just say Markus wasn’t getting that chance. It still hurt, just knowing that he’d talked Bryce into playing again. Granted, it probably hadn’t taken much effort. Football was Bryce’s life. He lived it, breathed it. But was it really worth never walking again? Didn’t they get it that he was one snap away from permanent damage? The issue was that I knew too much. I’d already finished pre-med and my first two years of med school; now I was specializing in athletic therapy, so I knew — I knew — the risk involved in traumatic brain injuries. Concussions were a hazard of the sport. But multiple concussions, or moderate ones like Bryce had, could change everything.
“You’re too quiet,” Bryce whispered, his SUV gently gliding through the open security gate.
Glaring, I turned and gazed out the window, not seeing the beautiful Seattle skyline, just seeing the blur of lights. Trying to not think about how Markus’ cologne subtly permeated the confined air of the car.
Enemy.
Traitor.
Sellout.
I kept repeating his many sins over in my head, reminding myself why he wasn’t to be trusted.
“Good game today,” Bryce interjected in the silent car.
“Chancellor rocked,” Markus added.
Instinctively, I reacted to his voice, a mix of anger and attraction. “You were better.” I was unable to keep the pride out of my voice.
“So now you admit that I’m a badass on the field.”
I rolled my eyes. “You always were. But I need to hand out a compliment here and there, keep you buttered up for when I need something.”
Bryce chuckled. “Some things never change.”
“Nope. Speaking of which, where are we eating? I’m starving. Your game took forever.”
“You do realize you can order food at the stadium, right?”
I glanced out the window, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that Markus was silent in the back seat throughout my conversation with my brother. “You know I can’t eat when you play. I get too nervous,” I mumbled, not wanting to admit to it, yet knowing he was already aware.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re going to have to get over that eventually.”
“Not likely. Regardless, I’m hungry, and we’re still driving, and I’d like to be able to dream about what I’m going to order so…” I let the words linger.
My brother’s deep chuckle filled the car. He had a deep laugh, broad and thick just like his shoulders, warm like his smile. It reminded me of Dad.
“Sushi.”
“Veto.” I made a chopping motion with my hand. “No go. Try again.”
This time it was Markus’ laugh that hung in the air. I steeled myself against the inviting sound.
“As if you want sushi now anyway. You’re just being a jerk. You want steak. And potatoes. And—”
“Fine. I get it. I’ll head downtown to Ruth’s Chris, okay? Satisfied? Markus, call ahead for me, man?” Bryce glanced back in the rearview mirror, and I instinctively followed his gaze, watching as a smile teased Markus’ full lips as he pulled out his phone.
“It’s going to be crazy this time of night. You want me to order out instead?” Markus asked, holding up a finger as someone presumably answered on the other end.
At Bryce’s nod, Markus started firing off orders, and I bit my lip as I heard him request three sides of steak sauce — knowing that all three were for me.
I hated that he remembered.
I hated that he knew the details.
And I hated even more that a part of my heart still warmed at the thought.
“Fifteen minutes? Thanks.” Markus finished the call. “I know I’m not supposed to be talking to you, Ava, but thanks.”
I ignored him.
“I think I actually hate sushi more than you.”
That surprised me enough to warrant a reaction. He used to love the slimy raw fish. “Since when?” I turned in my seat, his face barely illuminated by the headlights of the oncoming traffic.
Bryce chuckled quietly next to me.
“Long story.” Markus rubbed the back of his neck, glancing out the window.
“Apparently. We have fifteen minutes…” I let the words linger, giving him an out.
Giving myself an out, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know… rather, I shouldn’t want to know.
But I did.
“What was her name?” Bryce asked, still laughing at his friend’s expense.
“Don’t remember.” Markus almost growled.
Jealousy sliced through me. As I struggled to shove it aside, curiosity burned, replacing it.
“Ethel!” Bryce shouted, startling me.
“Aw, shit.” Markus groaned.
I bit back a grin at his obvious discomfort.
“Just be thankful you didn’t wind up in th
e hospital, man. People can die from that shit.” Bryce’s voice boomed in the confines of the car.
“Do I want to know…” I narrowed my eyes at Bryce.
“Hell yes.”
“I hate you so much right now,” Markus clipped. “I was meeting a potential client, Matt, at a very exclusive sushi bar—”
“Only, it wasn’t just the client that showed up.”
“Am I going to tell the story, or are you? Wait. Don’t answer that. I’m telling it. I don’t trust you.”
Bryce lifted a hand in surrender.
“The guy showed up with his grandma, which would have been fine if—”
“The woman wasn’t batshit crazy.” Bryce interrupted Markus.
Uh-oh. I withheld a grin as I thought about the direction this conversation was going. “And I’m thinking she was interested in more than you being eye candy?” I asked, biting back another smile as Markus gave me a dark glare.
“Ha. No, not like that.” Bryce shook his head. I could see the movement from the corner of my eye. “But probably just as traumatic.”
“Oooh, do continue.” A smile broke through, even as I tried to stop it. Anything that dealt with Markus’ discomfort? Yeah, I was game.
“Shit, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” He wiped his hand down his face and sighed, his gaze flickering to me then continuing. “Ethel…” Markus spoke her name like it tasted bitter. “…she sat at the bar and proceeded to take the entire dish of wasabi and dump it on her salmon roe roll.”
“And Bryce tried to save the day—”
“I didn’t think she knew what it was! I didn’t want to have to call 911 because she went into cardiac arrest from the heat, so I tried to explain what it was—”
“But she didn’t speak English.”
“When Matt tried to explain it to her, she gave me this offended look then slowly shoved it toward me, gesturing for me to have it.”
“You didn’t…” I asked lowly, my eyes widening. That much wasabi was lethal.
“I tried to explain that it was spicy, but she got angry, and, uh, people were starting to stare.”
“So you ate it.” I shook my head in wonder. Of all the stupid things!
“She fed it to him.” Bryce said through deep giggles.
Markus groaned. “It was that or have it land on my suit. I didn’t think it through…she was a little insistent.”
“Dude, you should have just said no! Didn’t they teach you that shit in school? Say no to drugs and all. Wasabi-coated anything should be included in that.” Bryce replied, still laughing.
“So… then what happened?” I asked, morbidly curious.
“Well, let’s just say I cut the meeting short.” Markus turned to look out the window, giving me perfect profile of his face, the shadows in the car accentuating his cut jawline. I’d dreamed about tracing it with my fingers when I was younger… before—”
“Yeah, sweating like a pig isn’t usually good PR. But it was later, when you called me asking if a guy could die from heartburn that the real fireworks took place. I don’t even want to think about what that Walgreen’s clerk thought when I literally bought every antacid they sold on their shelves.”
“I don’t even want to think about it. Damn, that was fire.”
“Well, did you at least get the client?” I asked, arching a brow, earning a dirty look from Markus.
“No.”
I couldn’t help it. I started to snicker, the action setting free something deep inside, the giggles turning into full-out laughter.
“I’m happy to provide the entertainment for the evening.” Markus rolled his eyes, but I could see a ghost of a smile tease his lips.
And damn it all, if I didn’t trace them with my eyes, feeling things I wanted to forget.
But he’d always had an uncanny ability to get past every defense.
Which was why I kept him at arm’s length.
But even that distance wasn’t safe.
Because the only thing more dangerous than Markus was my attraction to him.
And that was one battle I’d never fully won.
CHAPTER TWO
Markus
THE WASABI HELL had been worth it. Just seeing a smile break across her face— Hell, I’d go through that torture again happily, if it meant that I’d have a chance at breaking through that wall she built around herself, keeping me out.
If I didn’t stop staring, she was going to catch on, and that was the last thing I needed. But I couldn’t force myself to glance away; rather, I drank her in.
Bryce cleared his throat, and I noticed we weren’t moving anymore but had parked just in front of the restaurant.
“Dude, you okay?” he asked.
No. “Yeah.” Clearing my throat, I gave a tight smile and slid out of the car.
It was always easier for me to be seen in places than Bryce. Heaven help us all if he went in for the food. He was high-profile enough that he’d be signing autographs and shaking hands for at least an hour, and, being the great guy he was, he’d stay till he signed them all. It was part of the job. As his agent, my job was to both promote and protect him, even from himself.
It might sound odd, but really, time was money. Bryce needed to eat, take an ice bath, and rest so that he was all set for practice tomorrow — not sign autographs and socialize.
As expected, the restaurant was buzzing; at least half the customers wearing Seahawks colors. It was easy to pick up keywords in conversations, all revolving around the win. As I gave the hostess my name and card to pay for the food, I made a mental list of the potential ways to capitalize on Bryce’s success this season. He’d made a few awesome plays, so his name would be popping up on SportsCenter a few times before the night was over. I needed to strike while the iron was hot.
I nodded my thanks and left with four huge bags of takeout, thankful that Ava couldn’t read my mind. Surely, she’d jump to the worst conclusions at my thoughts, thinking I was out to get ahead.
Talk was cheap, but I was proving it, step by step, in the way I was making sure that Bryce was protected, financially secure, and in turn, she would be as well.
I opened the door and slid into the back seat.
Ava moaned and turned in her seat. “That smells amazing…”
I couldn’t swallow, my body immediately reacting to her voice as if it were a deliberate stroke, intentional touch, meant to set me on fire.
“What are you waiting for? Move it!” Ava hit her brother’s arm playfully, and I glanced up, only to meet Bryce’s gaze in the rearview mirror. His eyebrow arched in warning, and I glanced away guiltily.
He’d never said anything, but he had to know.
We didn’t keep a whole lot of secrets — it hadn’t really been a viable option with first starting off as roommates then me knowing the ins and outs of his finances as well. But this… was different.
The only sound was the deep rumble of the engine as Bryce drove toward his home, a beautiful modern structure right on Lake Washington. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes to arrive, giving my body a little time to cool down.
At least cool down enough.
“Finally.” Ava huffed as we pulled into the garage. She slid out of the car and strode to the door. Her long legs drew my gaze, and I watched till Bryce’s voice cut through my admiration.
“Dude. Seriously. If you don’t hurry, I’m going to start eating my car. Get out.”
I shook my head and left the car. I passed through the garage, into the hall, and set the bags on the wide island in the middle of Bryce’s kitchen.
“Mine. Where’s mine?” Ava asked, already pawing through the bags till she snagged all the steak sauce and one of the foam containers.
“Damn it all, Av, share!” Bryce stole one of her containers of sauce, and I bit back a grin. They were more than siblings; they were best friends.
“Hey, you should call Dolce.” Bryce spoke around a huge bite of steak, making the name slur slightly.
I frowned. Dolce? I hadn’t seen her for at least four months, and even then, we’d only dated a few times, and he knew that.
“Who?” Ava asked just as I said, “What?”
“Dolce.” Bryce shrugged, as if what he was suggesting made total sense.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out his angle.
“Girlfriend?” Ava asked, her eyes distant and cold.
Thanks, Bryce.
“Uh, no,” I answered. “That’s been over a while now.”
“Oh.” Ava shrugged, turning back to food, picking up a fry.
I took out my own food and watched as Bryce gave me a wink.
Aw, hell.
“She was hot.” He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer then raised it, arching a brow inquiring if I wanted one too.
“Sure.”
He twisted the top off and slid it across the counter toward me, and I caught it before it sailed off the edge, wishing it was something stronger.
“I’d give you her number, but I don’t have it.” I took a long swig, my gaze flickering over to Ava, curious of her reaction.
For a moment her, expression lost its unreadable mask, giving me a glimpse of something deeper, but before I could study it, the icy glare was back in full force. “Please, you can do better than his rejects.”
“You mean reject. Singular. Markus here is all but celibate. I about had a stroke when I learned he’d gone on a date.”
Bryce’s comment had me clenching my fists. Don’t go there.
“Ah, a player with no game. That sucks.” Ava popped a fry in her mouth and gave me a pitying grin.
“Can we stop talking about this?” I took a long swig of beer and then opened up my food container, needing something to do with my hands, so I didn’t try to strangle Bryce.
“It’s all good. At least after the Dolce thing, we knew you hadn’t switched teams— Had me worried for a minute, man. No offense, but you’ve seen my bare ass far too many times, and I was concerned it was too much.”
“Done. You’re so cut off.” I stole the beer from his hands. “And believe me, seeing your naked ass has only increased my interest in women. Seeing that could scare anyone straight,” I shot back with a grin.
