Reckless

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Reckless Page 17

by Stella Rhys


  “That sounds great, but now’s actually not a good time. I’m driving and—”

  “Fine, then I’ll make it quick. I decided to extend my stay by a week, because I’m not leaving LA without getting fucked, specifically by you, so call me later, Maxwell, because my pussy’s been waiting,” she said, giving a sexy little “bye-bye” in singsong before hanging up and leaving me to stare ahead at the road for a few awkward seconds.

  “So,” I said, solely to break the silence. “Schedule Naomi for Friday then?”

  Adam gave a curt laugh. “I’m good.”

  “Adam,” I snorted. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend you’re suddenly this pure angel who has no interest in sleeping with other women.”

  I looked over at him, but it took several seconds of me looking at him for him to look over at me. And when he did, there was half a smirk on his face, though he didn’t actually look all that amused. In fact, his eyebrows were just slightly lifted in the way they were when he thought someone just did something weird.

  “Alright,” Adam said slowly, in a tone that made me feel especially weird.

  And that was it.

  Wait. Seriously?

  In the silence that followed, I couldn’t help staring somewhat crankily out the windshield, because I’d said what I’d said, and I had certainly meant it, but couldn’t he acknowledge it? Or say an actual sentence back?

  Also, I knew him well enough to know that he was very much capable of delivering the word “alright” in a less shitty voice.

  It annoyed me.

  And though we talked for the rest of the car ride, it was noticeably strained. And then it got even more strained because Adam knew it was strained, and all he did was laugh to himself about it.

  I knew it was irrational, but it put me in a huff.

  A very girlfriend-y type huff, which was the exact kind of huff I had no right to be in, given I was not a girlfriend. But here we are.

  We had radio playing for the last twenty minutes of the ride before he pulled into Judy’s, the little white shop with the Spanish tile roof and big palm trees out front.

  As soon as Adam parked, he was looking at me, watching me as I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed my phone off the dash. I could feel him smirking and smiling, but since he wasn’t saying a word of anything, I didn’t look his way before getting out of the car.

  It took till he got out of the car before he finally said, “AJ.”

  “Yeah?” I rounded the front of the car to find him shutting his door, wearing that boyish grin I didn’t want to be charmed by right now.

  “Come on. You usually read me better than this.”

  “Better than what?” I asked, but since I didn’t stop walking, Adam snorted.

  “Get the fuck over here,” he muttered, jerking me over to him by the back of my shirt and spinning me so fast that my yelp was half-surprised laugh.

  And before I knew it, he had me leaned against the side of the car, his strong arm circling my waist and his hand pushing the windblown hair from my face. He took a few seconds to just look at me before he said, “If it isn’t clients or family these days, AJ, you’re all I think about.”

  My breath hitched in my throat. All I did was stare back at him, and though I might’ve looked outwardly blank, bells were sounding off in my head, like I’d just won some big prize I didn’t even know I was waiting for.

  “If we’re being honest, I spend half my day trying to get you out of my head and the other half just letting you fucking own every inch of my brain space, so have I been thinking about sleeping with other women?” Adam paused and laughed. “I can barely think about getting up in the morning instead of jacking off a second time to the thought of you.”

  Oh.

  Well then.

  Stunned, chewing my lip back, I only nodded. But it was probably clear that I was trying to suppress a giant smile, because Adam suddenly looked smug.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “Nothing,” Adam smirked. “I just love how pissed off you get when you’re wrong.”

  With that, I finally broke into a smile, prompting Adam’s satisfied grin as he touched his thumb to my dimple.

  “There we go,” he murmured before nodding at the shop. “Now let’s go get this stupid fuckin’ shake.”

  22

  ADAM

  I wasn’t sure if I was more aroused or amused.

  But I was definitely both, mostly because AJ had insisted on not only keeping the shake in a cooler of ice during the ride back, but stirring it constantly to “preserve the consistency, or else it’s just melted ice cream.”

  Definitely a fair point, but the stirring had been beyond distracting, and I had to commend myself for not crashing the car despite the fact that her perfect tits were bouncing the entire ride from stirring the stupid shake.

  I smirked as I watched her set up the conference room now. She’d even gotten fresh whipped cream from the restaurant downstairs, which alone was filling my head with every dirty thought that didn’t need to be there right now.

  “You alright, buddy?” AJ asked teasingly, not even needing to look up to feel my stare.

  “Yeah. I think it’s just too often that I’m watching you handle whipped cream in this office,” I smirked, peering out the door as I came up behind her. “Remind me that I need to lick every dessert that exists off your body soon, or I might fucking explode.”

  “Noted,” she said, giving a little giggle that made my dick twitch as she let me run my hands along her backside as she continued setting up.

  But then without a word or a glance at each other, we separated ourselves, because we could hear two pairs of footsteps coming toward the conference room, and within seconds, Carl from reception poked his head in.

  He gave me a look that asked you ready? And when I nodded, he looked out into the hall and gestured into the room.

  “Mr. Knox,” he said.

  And in walked Knox looking half-asleep, wearing team warm-up gear including low-worn sweats and a baseball cap he didn’t take off even as we did the customary handshakes and greetings.

  I have zero respect for this meeting was the message he was trying to convey.

  And he did it well.

  “So. Flying solo today?” I asked, hoping to see Knox’s team walk in any minute as he took a long pull of date shake from his straw. I had to wait till he was done—a good three or four seconds—before he gave his shitty answer.

  “Nah. Figured I’d make this quick as possible.”

  I smiled. “Right.”

  Fuckin’ asshole.

  He was being such an intolerable piece of shit from the jump that it was a good breather for me to be able to show him around the office and briefly pass him off to Engelman, who wasn’t as subtle as he thought as he asked how Knox’s RTA meeting went, and if he’d gotten to meet the head of RTA like he was getting to do here.

  I whisked Knox away from Engelman as swiftly as I could after that, and we were just outside Engelman’s office when Knox spoke his first full sentence since arriving.

  “Listen, I know this is supposed to be the big VIP tour, but I don’t really give a shit. I don’t care how fancy your office is and it’s nowhere near as big as RTA’s anyway, so let’s just get to the meeting, alright?”

  My eyebrows flashed for half a second, but even from behind me, I could feel AJ willing me to be nice, so I simply grinned at Knox. “Alright. Let’s get a move on.”

  As we headed back to the conference room, AJ and I exchanged a look and I could tell we were on the same page, since it was a look that basically said yeah, he’s a dick, but we can play this game too.

  We were usually much more flattering and complimentary of clients, and provided far more pomp and circumstance, but it was clear Knox wanted to lose the corporate veneer, and I was actually more than happy to do that.

  So as soon as we were seated just the three of us in the conference roo
m, I got right into it.

  “Look, I don’t need to know how your other meeting went to know that RTA is looking to make you fit their mold. They have more clients than any agency in the world. They want you to shut up, do your job and just be grateful they took you on, and I haven’t known you that long, but I do know that you don’t really respond to that kind of authority,” I said, making Knox smirk. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he took his sweet time to respond.

  “I think I’d give it a shot if the authority was Simon Schilling,” he said.

  I stilled.

  For longer than I intended to actually, but I was trying to gauge what was going on with AJ right now without taking my eyes off of Knox. I was pretty sure I felt an instant shift in her at the mention of Schilling, but now she was playing it cool enough that even I couldn’t tell if she wasn’t okay.

  “Schilling is taking you as a client?” I clarified, because since being promoted to VP of RTA, he’d stopped taking new clients. Knox smiled.

  “He said he was interested.”

  I refrained from asking if he’d only shown interest after Knox mentioned who was pursuing him from Engelman Sports. I wondered for a second if Schilling even knew that AJ worked here now. As I concluded the answer was yeah, probably, I glanced across the table at AJ, my eyes running along the delicate profile of her face as she sat there calmly, her expression impassive.

  But I knew how her lips normally rested, and this wasn’t it.

  She was rattled, thinking about Schilling, what happened in college, and it had me suddenly fantasizing about all the ways I wanted to choke out that motherfucker out. But when AJ looked over at me, eyebrow slightly arched, I knew I’d been silent for too long.

  Alright, get your shit together. Hers is, I told myself before returning my attention smoothly to Knox.

  “The reality is that Schilling has a team of interns briefing him about who you even are before his every meeting with you.”

  “Whereas you know everything about me?” Knox challenged.

  “I do,” I replied with ease. “I know the ins and outs of your entire life and career, because I actually give a shit. Same goes for my assistant. She could run this whole meeting if she had to.”

  Knox raised his eyebrows before turning from me to AJ.

  “And you’re the assistant?” he asked, a different kind of smile spreading his lips. “Schilling told me all about you. Adrienne, right?”

  AJ

  I could feel the blood briefly drain from my face, and I knew Knox wasn’t lying—that Schilling had told him about me, because Schilling was the only person not named Mom, Dad or Emily who called me Adrienne.

  And for the next few moments, I wondered if I was over-reading the amusement in Knox’s eye. If Schilling told Knox his version of the story. I knew it was unlikely he’d go into detail, but all that was needed in this world was a little lilt of the voice and a sly wag of the brows to say something about a woman. “Oh, Adrienne Tan? Oh, I’ve had the pleasure of working with her.”

  It wasn’t fair. To have to feel even for a second like a fraud. Cut down to nothing with just a smirk.

  So for all the horror churning in my stomach right now, I refused to let it affect me.

  “Adrienne Tan, yes. But you’re welcome to call me AJ.”

  Knox nodded with a look of exaggerated interest. “Well, AJ. Adam here says you know enough about me to run the whole meeting yourself, so…” Arms crossed, he leaned all the back. “Let’s give Adam the day off and see what you got.”

  I stared, surprised enough that he laughed.

  “And since you look like a very… nice girl,” he said in a way I forced myself not to over-read. “Let me just go ahead and say I’m not really into the whole sugarcoating thing, so if you could try to do without that, that’d be great. Alright?”

  Oh…

  Okay then.

  Nodding, I finally gave Knox a smile—a real one, too, because without even looking at Adam, I could feel his delighted amusement. Like he was ready to go make himself a bag of popcorn.

  Because he knew the match Knox just lit. Hell, he knew better than anyone that the best way to fire me up was to be patronizing. To doubt me based solely on the way I looked.

  “So tell me then, Adrienne. Why shouldn’t I sign with RTA today?” Knox asked.

  I answered without hesitation. “Because RTA is good for superstars. The absolute one percent of professional athletes.”

  “And, what, I'm not a part of that one percent?” Knox asked.

  ”No," I said so bluntly he paused with surprise and bristled.

  But he kept a smirk on his face as he asked, “Aren’t you trying to sell me right now?”

  “Didn’t you ask me not to sugar-coat?”

  “Touché.”

  With a good-natured smile, I sat forward to give him the rundown of exactly who he was in this league.

  “Knox, you’re a solid starting pitcher who could be a difference maker in a World Series. You’re not going to be a name that the casual fan knows, but hey, if you want people to blow smoke up your ass, by all means, go with RTA. I know they may have all the connections to promise endorsement deals and a dedicated marketing team just for you, but the reality is that not even the most recognizable faces in baseball have very lucrative endorsement deals. This isn’t the NBA or the NFL. Baseball is America’s pastime, but endorsement deals just don’t work the same in this league and if anyone wants to tell you differently, they’re lying to your face.”

  The wiseass grin was gone from Knox’s lips now, but he cocked an eyebrow. “And why would RTA lie to me?”

  “Because they reserve their best resources and their hardest efforts for their one percent superstars—of which they have many—and they’d rather not put in the work to fix the actual problem with someone like you. They want you to just shut up and take this demotion to reliever, because they claim they can make up for the loss of income by promising commercials for sports drinks and deodorant, but I think even you know those are long shots.”

  I could almost see the glimmer of asshole fun in Knox’s eyes being snuffed out as I spoke, but I didn’t stop. I went on, giving him the full truth—that even deodorant and razor commercials were reserved for the household names of the sport. The sluggers who hit bombs out of the park and wound up on SportsCenter at night.

  “So once you sign that contract with RTA, what you’ll actually end up getting are a few autograph signings at car dealerships, and we both know that a handful of low five-figure endorsement deals won’t make up for the fact that you’ll be finishing your current contract as a reliever, because that tanks your already-damaged market value going into free agency next year,” I explained breezily. “It’s going to tell other teams that they can get away with paying you reliever money for the final years of your career, and that’s not what you deserve considering the pitcher you are.”

  I caught Knox’s throat moving as he swallowed. “What kind of pitcher am I?” he asked.

  “You’re one of the few in this league who only needs one pitch to strike out your batter,” I said, referring to his filthy cutter. “You’re easily a starter. You just don’t have the right representation to help you fight the reputation you’ve garnered over the years.”

  “And what reputation is that?” Knox asked, that twinkle back in his eye.

  “Asshole,” I replied.

  The next few seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But then Knox gave a snort and a laugh.

  “Fair enough.”

  And for the rest of the meeting, despite inserting a few lines here and there, Adam let me take the lead. When Knox asked how the hell we planned on getting him out of his shitty contract, Adam and I brainstormed on our feet, eventually coming up with a potential trade to the reigning champion New York Empires this season, since Adam had a close relationship with the team, given most of their players was represented by either Adam or Iain.

  “Their starting rot
ation’s been plagued by injuries, and we know they’re currently looking at Trey Bock to fill out their last spot, but he’s just coming back from Tommy John surgery, and he’s more expensive than you with three years left on his contract,” I said. “You’ve got your noted ‘behavioral issues,’ of course, but if they know you’re represented by Adam, they’ll be much more likely to take a shot. And considering the Empires are a lock to win the championship again this year, if you can win with them, you’ll have no trouble getting a solid contract once you’re a free agent after this season.”

  I commended myself for speaking calmly the whole time despite the absolute adrenaline rush coursing through my veins, especially as we wrapped up the meeting and got up to say goodbye to a completely different Knox.

  He was visibly pleased.

  Trying to hide it, sure, but pleased nonetheless.

  “Alright, well… I’ll be in touch after I talk with my team,” he said, nodding with a bit of laughter in his eyes that acknowledged the total one-eighty he just did. He was on his way out, tossing a lazy glance over his shoulder as he said, “But if nothing changes my mind as it stands, I’ll be going with you guys.”

  Fuck. Yes.

  Bitch.

  Okay, I didn’t mean that last part. It was just that adrenaline was still coursing hot through my veins as I stared at the door. I felt practically breathless, like my entire body was buzzing from head to toe as I brimmed with triumph and excitement, and just a little bit of a spiteful fuck you reserved strictly for Schilling.

  “You have no idea how badly I need to fuck you right now.”

  I grinned and when I finally turned to face Adam, his brilliant blue eyes slammed into mine, fixed so hotly on me that I actually wanted him to lunge forward and just rip off all my clothes.

  “Fuck me then,” I said, gently tugging on his silk tie as he circled his arms around my waist and pressed a kiss to my lips. He groaned against my mouth as I dropped one hand down between us and cupped his package, stroking gently till I felt him harden in my palm.

  “Engelman’s already goddamn texting me to see how it went,” he said, but for how tormented he sounded, he didn’t stop kissing me. “I just need you to know that you’re fucking incredible,” he murmured, making my heart flutter in my chest. “I keep thinking I’ve found out everything there is to know about you,” his voice was a near whisper now, “but you keep surprising me every day.”

 

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