“Wildcat,” Roman says, “why aren’t you with the girls?”
Addie waves her red-manicured hand dismissively. “I remembered that I have a bladder of steel and don’t have to go.” Roman arches a dubious brow at her, while I furrow mine and Chance laughs. “Hey, Thor, you should go check on them, though. There was some creeper ogling Janey as they walked into the bathroom.”
Fury worthy of the god of thunder himself replaced the humor on Chance’s face as he shoved out of his chair. “The fuck he is,” he growled, his legs eating up the stairs in seconds.
Since Emi’s name wasn’t the one mentioned, I still have the benefit of logic on my side. Crossing my arms, I look at Addie. “There is no creeper, is there?”
She beams at me and takes Chance’s place next to me. “No, but I wanted to talk to you alone for a sec.”
There’s no use in pointing out that her boyfriend is still here because she’d just argue that he doesn’t count, since she’ll be telling him about the conversation later anyway.
“Fine, spill it.”
“You’re really into her.” Addison doesn’t prevaricate. Like the ballsy lawyer she is, she cuts through the bullshit and gets to the point.
“She doesn’t want anything serious right now. We’re keeping it casual.”
“I don’t buy that for a second, but I’m not talking about her, I’m talking about you.”
I release a heavy breath and relent. “Yeah, I’m really into her. We have fun together, and we have a lot in common.”
Leaning in closer and lowering her voice, her blue eyes turn unnaturally serious. “Are you using the contracts with her?”
Addison’s the one who drafted the legal paperwork for me last year. I chose to go to her instead of Roman because he didn’t know about my forced fantasy kink. His older sister had been raped when we were still in high school, and I never wanted him to think I was anything like the fucker who assaulted Rhona. I ended up having to tell him to clear up a misunderstanding of why I was secretly meeting with Addie. Long story short, Roman accepted my apology and my kink, and our brotherly bond is as strong as ever.
“Yes,” I say. “Everything’s good, I promise, Addie-girl.”
She arches a blond brow. “Then you also told her about our past?”
I freeze, my eyes darting to Roman for help, but he just shakes his head. He has no intention to interrupt whatever crusade she’s on. I narrow my gaze on her. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“If you’re just fucking her for funsies, then it’s not. But that’s not what this is, at least not for you. We occasionally joke about it to get under Roman’s skin, but obviously it’s not something we’ll throw around in front of a girlfriend. But there’s always a chance someone will slip. It would suck for her to find out that way. And I really like her, so I’d prefer it if she didn’t hate my guts if you plan on keeping her around, which you totally should.”
“She’s right, brother,” Roman says. “If you really like her, you need to be honest with her, the sooner the better. Maybe telling her now that she’s already had the chance to see you guys interact as strictly friends, it’ll help soften the news. Before she might’ve wondered if there’s still anything between you. Now she’ll have seen with her own eyes that there’s not.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “She probably won’t even care because this isn’t serious for her.”
“Oh, Pookie, if you honestly believe that, you’re more clueless than the average Cowboys fan.”
“Hey,” I say.
“Good one, wildcat.” Roman extends his fist, which Addison bumps without even having to look.
“Don’t be stupid, Austin,” Addison continues. “That means don’t be a guy. Be a man. Own up to your feelings, and if she doesn’t realize her own yet, then fight for them. She’s not immune to your charms, that much is obvious.”
As strange as it probably sounds, the fact that I’ve been intimate with Addie has bonded us in a way I’ll never be with Jane. Not that Chance has a problem with that. He’s extremely caveman when it comes to his pretty Janey, and I don’t blame him. Roman’s the same way with Addison now, but because he shared her with me before he got all proprietary, he accepts that we have that little something extra to our friendship.
“Okay, Addie-girl, I hear you. Thanks,” I say, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze.
“I love you, you big dumb animal. Don’t screw this up.”
“Love you, too.”
With that, she hops up and launches herself at her boyfriend, who catches her around the waist and pulls her into a chair for a quickie makeout session. They both have a serious exhibitionist streak, so it’s pretty common with them. Luckily, they keep the PDA fairly PG, since this is a family event.
Chance returns with the girls, and the third period keeps us all on our feet as the Blackhawks battle for the lead. Except the nail-biter of a game isn’t the only thing making me anxious. I know my friends are right, but I’m worried about how Emi will react. I’m lucky she accepts one extreme kink of mine. Am I pushing my luck hoping that she can accept that I used to share my best friend’s girl with him? I don’t know, but I guess there’s only one way to find out.
Chapter Ten
Emi
“That was incredible,” I say for probably the tenth time as we arrive at a bar called The Pony. It’s my second time being here today, since Austin brought me here for brunch this morning, which I absolutely loved. I didn’t even obsess over how many calories I was consuming. Life feels a little freer when I’m with him, and I’m enjoying every minute I can. “How is it possible to be so graceful and so brutally violent at the same time?”
“You don’t even think about the skating part,” he says. “It’s as second-nature as walking or running when you’re on the ice. All your focus is on that puck and destroying anything in your path to get to it.”
I whip my head up to look at him. “Do you play hockey?”
“Yeah, I’m on the team for the fire department. We play against the cops and do exhibition games for charities, stuff like that. Nothing all that big, but it’s fun as hell.”
He shrugs a shoulder like it’s no big thing, but to a girl who just discovered the appeal of hockey players, it’s a very big thing. Images of this sexy man maneuvering on the ice in his bulky gear as graceful as any dancer I’ve ever seen floods my mind, and I’m worried I’ll start drooling. “I need the time and place of your next game. Please tell me it’s tomorrow. In the morning.”
Austin laughs and opens the door for me. “Damn, girl. Remind me to plan some playtime with you right after one of my games.”
Oh my God, yes. “Forget reminding. I’m not above begging.”
He stops me just inside the door, but when I look up, it’s not Austin’s face I see. It’s him. The man who takes me any way he chooses in the dark of night; the man who craves my pleas, demands that I beg for mercy, then denies them all the same. His fiery green gaze burns me from the inside out. My breath catches in my throat, and butterflies erupt in my belly. With nothing more than a look—this look—he makes my body yearn for his brand of careful brutality.
I accept that he has this power over me because I’ve learned that I have it as well. I can easily summon his beast, like turning Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde, with nothing more than a few chosen words—or in this case, the accidental mention of me begging—and he appears. My merciless villain ready to free me from the constraints of my sheltered reality.
Someone jostles him as they pass through the crowd. He blinks, and the spell is broken as he looks around, likely remembering where we are. “Come on, princess. We need to find the rest of our group before I say fuck it and take you home. Addie’ll have my balls if I bail on this, and I happen to like them right where they are.”
“Me too,” I say with a coy smile.
He groans—possibly from discomfort in his pelvic region, or maybe from disappointment that we can’t leave yet—and leads m
e across the room. The bar is a beautiful mix of modern and rustic. Very clean lines and minimal decor, but the floors and ceilings are all light woods, with the walls being a combination of light wood and maroon-painted cement blocks. More than a dozen televisions set to sports channels line the walls for visibility from every seat in the house, which are all filled with people wearing Chicago Blackhawks gear celebrating tonight’s 4-3 victory over the LA Kings.
We make our way up to the Pony Up Lounge on the second level that’s been reserved for Roman’s party. There’s another full bar and scattered tables with stools, and of course more TVs. But the best feature is the vaulted retractable roof made entirely of glass. Even though it’s not quite warm enough in mid-May for them to open it up, it’s still beautiful to look up and see the moon hanging in the night sky. About a dozen people are milling around by the bar, watching highlights of the game playing on Sports Center.
“Oh good, you guys are here!” Jane breaks away from the group and rushes over to us. “Addison is blowing up my phone asking when she can finally stop stalling and bring Roman in.”
Austin chuckles. “How’s she managing to text you if she’s stalling him?”
Chance, who looks like an actual Viking with his shoulder-length blond hair and massive size, comes up behind Jane and wraps his arms around her. He completely dwarfs the petite brunette, and yet they somehow fit perfectly. “I believe the plan was a blindfold and reverse cowgirl in the back seat,” he says with a smirk.
I laugh at the joke…then realize I’m the only one. “Oh, you were serious.” My eyes widen in shock for what seems like the hundredth time since meeting Austin’s friends. I don’t mean to keep acting like a virgin in a brothel every five minutes, but I’ve never been around people with virtually no filter who threaten each other as a way of showing affection. I’m not offended by any of it, I just need a small adjustment period, that’s all.
Austin chuckles and pulls me into his side. Chance smirks in obvious amusement until Jane smacks one of the trunk-like arms banded at her waist. “It’d be great if you could let the new girl think we’re semi-normal for a while,” she admonishes.
“Screw that, baby, we are the normal ones,” Chance argues. “It’s those vanilla people who are the real freaks. Right, Emi?”
I know he’s trying to throw me off again, but it’s not going to work this time. I’m hip to his game and I’m ready to play along. “As a reformed vanilla freak, myself, I couldn’t agree more, Chance.”
The men erupt with laughter, and Jane winks at me in approval. “Come on,” she says, reaching for my hand, “let’s get a drink before the guest of honor arrives, and then I’ll introduce you around.”
We head to the bar with the guys following behind, and that’s when I notice the odd wording on the large banner. “It’s not Roman’s actual birthday?”
“No,” Jane says, “that’s in November. Addison sometimes celebrates half birthdays.”
Chance points a finger at his girlfriend. “Hey, don’t knock that girl’s half-birthday presents.”
Jane rolls her eyes as Austin fills me in. “Addie sent Romeo the Handyman over to Jane with the excuse of it being her half-birthday present. He fixed her broken pipes—literal and metaphorical—and the rest is history.”
My gaze bounces between the three of them. “Something tells me that’s an extremely abridged version of the story.”
“Very abridged,” says a handsome man dressed in a custom-tailored suit. “But she’ll have to tell you another time because I need an introduction before my partner gets here.”
His eyes roam over my body quickly then return to study my face with blatant appreciation.
“Back off, Coop.” Austin’s tone makes it a clear warning despite the smile and handshake that follows. “Emi, this is John Cooper, Roman’s law partner at their firm. He’s a good guy with a nice set of teeth. Hopefully that doesn’t change by the end of the night. Coop, this is Emi DeLuca. She’s a professional ballerina. And spoken for.”
Spoken for. Equal shots of happiness and regret flow through me at hearing those words. The idea of Austin considering me his makes me almost giddy. Like we’re in high school and he’s just given me his letter jacket to wear as proof that we belong to each other. But the reality is that I can’t be his, and in a few short months, I’ll be spoken for by someone else.
The interest in Coop’s eyes vanishes as though it never existed, but he shakes my hand with the warm affection of a long-lost friend. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emi. Welcome to the group, we’re happy to have you.”
“Thank you, I’m happy to be here. So, I’m curious, what’s your stripper-name-with-an-R?”
Coop almost chokes on his beer mid-sip as Chance and Austin laugh. “I don’t have one. I’m one of the few people here who isn’t a P4H dancer.” Shit! Will I ever stop embarrassing myself around these people? My cheeks are on fire as I rush to apologize, but Coop brushes it off with a good-natured wink. “Don’t worry about it. I’m actually taking your assumption as a huge compliment.”
I feel better once Austin puts a glass of wine in my hand and I’ve taken several large sips. Jane’s given us all the warning that Addie and Roman are on their way into the bar and instructions on what to yell as soon as they enter the room. We don’t have to hide or jump out from behind anything, but apparently Addie has promised pain of death if we don’t get the surprise right, and I don’t doubt that the woman will follow through on her threat.
I had a lot of fun at the game with the girls, but I haven’t quite figured Addison out. Jane is sweet and a bit of a geek. She’s been completely dialed into making me feel comfortable and welcome around her friends, often apologizing for their crass behavior.
But Addie is another animal entirely. Her personality is big and bold, to put it mildly, and I can see why Roman calls her wildcat and she’s known as the Honey Badger in her attorney circles. There’s no way I’d want to face her in court, or anywhere else for that matter.
Addie enters the room first, which gives us our cue to collectively shout, “Happy half birthdayyyyyy!”
Of everything I’ve learned about Austin’s friends so far, surprisingly, I find that I relate to Roman the most. He’s serious and respectable in his daily life, always mindful of the professional image he portrays. And though that’s a part of who he is, it’s not the only one, and as Ruthless he gets to be that other part of himself, without judgement or fear of recrimination. I get that. It’s the same reason I have Raven and needed to find a way of letting her out without damaging my reputation.
If Roman is like me, he hates surprises—it makes me feel off-balance to not have control over any given situation—but if that’s the case then he’s handling this like a pro. He’s smiling indulgently at Addison as she wraps her arms around his neck and peppers his face with “half-birthday kisses.” Even if he hates surprises, I have a hard time imagining anything shaking that man. As soon as Addie releases him, he starts to make his way around the room, smiling and greeting his friends with her by his side.
“They complement each other well,” I say to Austin, nodding at them. “Like their differences balance the other out. He’s kind of stoic and she’s more…um…”
“Obnoxious?” He laughs when I’m unable to come up with a different adjective on the spot. “It’s okay, she’d be the first one to admit it. Yeah, that’s our Addie. She’s a little crazy but she’s also fiercely loyal to her friends, and you’re right about them as a couple. They’re a perfect match. I couldn’t ask for a better woman to love my friend.”
“You’re close with her, too, aren’t you.” It’s not really a question. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s a definite connection between them. “I mean, I know you’re close with Jane, too, but you treat her more like a kid sister. With Addison, it seems different somehow.”
Austin drags a hand over the stubble on his jaw, slams the rest of his draft beer, then takes my hand and leads me away from t
he crowd. Suddenly I’m overanalyzing things at warp speed and imagining every possible scenario that’s about to occur, from him telling me that I’m totally crazy to telling me that he and Addison have a love child no one knows about because she’s being raised by a distant aunt across the country and holy shit maybe I am crazy.
I have no idea where all that came from. Normally my thought process is fairly logical, but at the first hint of something being off, I went all Girly 2000 and let my emotions run away with my brain. Emotions, I might add, that I’m not allowed to have. Shit, shit, and more shit.
“I was going to wait to tell you this later, but I just need to rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with.”
“Maybe I should get another glass of wine if it’s that bad,” I say, forcing out a light laugh that feels more like a brick in my stomach. Because whether I’m supposed to have feelings for him or not, I can’t deny that I don’t want our time together to be over yet. I’m not ready to give this up. I’m not ready to give Austin up.
He steps in close and brings my hands up against his chest. “That’s the thing,” he starts, “what I have to tell you isn’t bad at all, which is why I want you to know. But I’m not sure if you’ll see it the same way.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” I stare up into his beautiful green eyes, willing him to be honest with me about whatever it is. The one thing I’ve been able to count on with Austin is his unabashed ability to be completely open with me.
“Until recently, Roman’s sexual proclivities almost always involved ménage. The two-guys-one-girl kind.” He exhales before saying the rest, like he’s purging it from his body. “And oftentimes I was the other guy.”