Hothead by Stella Rhys

3

DREW

Three cocktails and a Prosecco later, I found myself returning a bright smile to the bartender from across the room and giving a happy thumbs up after he mouthed, “You good?” I even mouthed back “thank you” for the firm no he gave me during my last visit, when I approached the bar and asked if I could please just check my text messages.

I couldn’t be mad considering it was exactly what I’d asked for. I’d held this man to a promise, he was doing his job, and this whole thing would’ve been considered a perfectly pleasant and successful exchange if I weren’t in fact a giant, conniving bullshitter who was on her way to the terrace so she could talk on a stranger’s borrowed phone without Mr. Bartender ruining her fun.

And by fun, of course, I meant the opposite of that because the second I disappeared onto the terrace and out of the bartender’s sight, I let my breezy gal act fade into oblivion and turned into a cheerless mess again. My bleary eyes scanned the deck for a quiet corner, my hands already sweaty and my heart beating out of my chest because I was really about to do it.

I was about to talk to Mike.

And not just talk to him – I was going to say everything I’d held in last time for the sake of sounding “okay” and “not too emotional.” I was going to ask everything that was on my mind, and I was going to get all the answers I didn’t get the day he left me and packed the moving truck I booked with only his stuff. I was going to do it, damn it – I was going to get my closure.

That was at least what I told myself until I got his voicemail.

“Fuck,” I breathed just as I turned a corner to the empty, less scenic side of the terrace. I panicked as the automated voice began reciting his number then completely froze as I listened to that shrill beep and the deafening silence that followed.

Alright, go. Come on. Say something – anything!

“Um… hi.”

Damn.

This was already off to a bad start. Somehow, I hadn’t been as nervous for a live conversation with Mike. At least with that, I’d have his voice – someone to bounce my thoughts off of. But with this, it was like I’d just been thrust naked on a stage and asked to summarize my emotional turmoil in twenty seconds or less.

“Um.”

Another ‘um,’ Evie?I took another half-second to mentally berate myself before getting my shit somewhat together.

“Okay. Hey,” I restarted, clearing my throat. “So. I was calling tonight because I couldn’t stop thinking about… things. And all these questions I wanted to ask you. I know it sounds stupid, but I was thinking about Hillary’s cat that we were supposed to babysit in August,” I said, floating toward the balcony. I kept my voice passably casual but my knuckles were turning white as I gripped the cold steel of the railing. “And I know August is forever away, but then I remembered that we both consulted on her restaurant, and we’re supposed to go to her big opening next month,” I said steadily. Then with a pause, I added, “Together.”

And with that word, my voice cracked.

“Um…”

Oh, come on, Evie.

Thrusting a hand in my hair, I tried to collect myself. But as I gazed way down at the street below and spotted some pizzeria that merely reminded me of the place we had our first date, I lost my train of thought completely. My vision fogged, the tears came back, and boom.

I went off script.

“You know what, fuck it – my main thing right now is that I just miss you so much, Mike.”

Yep, that was definitely not what I was supposed to say. I was supposed to tackle all these legitimate questions and concerns, but now I was talking a mile a minute about a bunch of sad, mushy bullshit – like how I missed overhearing him call me wifey to his friends, and how I still leaned back in bed at night because I expected him to be there to hold me. I still put my monogrammed E mug next to his M mug so that it spelled the word “me” inside the cupboard, and by the way, did he want that mug back?

“I could mail it to the new apartment,” I offered breathlessly, my eyes shifting as I bit down on my thumbnail and searched myself for more conversation. “How is it, by the way? The apartment?”

What the hell, why are you asking him questions like he’s there?

“I mean I know it’s great. I’ve seen it,” I said hastily. I chose it. “I just wish I could see what you did with it,” I added with a sheepish laugh, remembering that amazing wall of windows that overlooked the East River. “The amount of sunlight that place gets is amazing. Your basil plant’s gonna get huge. I always thought it would be cool to put the dining table right by those big windows so we could just pick fresh basil off the stems during dinner,” I said before suddenly catching myself and practically choking on my own spit. “I mean – not ‘we’ like we’re still together ‘we,’ I just meant – ” Oh Lord, Evie. I touched my fingers to my mouth for a second to collect myself, but I was quickly realizing there was nothing left to collect. “Okay, I don’t know what I meant,” I confessed hastily, my heart beating fast. “I mean you said you wanted to get back together eventually, and in case it isn’t obvious, I want to get back together too, because… I honestly don’t even recognize my life without you in it, Mike. I don’t. I swear to God, it feels like when you’re not here, I don’t even know how to – ”

“Fuck, woman. You gotta stop.”

Blinking twice, I paused.

Excuse me?

I lowered my phone slowly, confused for all of a second before I processed that I was not in fact alone on this side of the terrace, and that a nearby stranger had just been eavesdropping on every second my misery.

It was precisely then that my eyes lit on fire and transitioned from wistful tears to a death look worthy of Medusa. Right away, there were about a dozen profane versions of “mind your own business” warming up on my tongue, and I was beyond ready to launch every one of them at this random, remarkably rude and nosy asshole behind me. But as soon as I turned around and let my stare land on him, something inside me yelled hold fire!

And it was definitely not my brain.

Because wow.

Seriously. Wow. That was a whole lotta man standing in front of me.

Are you actually Thor? I was genuinely perplexed as my eyes traveled up the sheer length of this man’s torso. Jesus. If any one person deserved to be the picture next to the Oxford definition of masculinity, it was definitely this prick right here. He was so big he cast a shadow over me. If I had to guess he stood at least six-foot-three with a negative percentage of body fat.

That said, I was heartbroken, not a fucking doormat, and there was no way in hell I was going to let him talk to me like that.

“I’m sorry, but who are you and what exactly is the problem here?” I demanded, my eyes still on fire as I watched the stranger exhale and dare to look fed up with me. What in the actual fuck? His enormous shoulders were slack and his head was tilted back just so. He had the gait of a man who was on his third hour of arguing with his wife, which made no sense at all because he was the one who’d come over to bother me. “Did you really show up just to interrupt my private conversation?” I asked incredulously.

“I’m pretty sure a conversation involves two parties.” He looked down his nose at me. “Not one drunk girl rambling to the voicemail of a guy who’s moved on with his life.”

My jaw dropped at his nerve.

Okay, wow.

I paused to shift gears because clearly, the level of assholery I was dealing with was beyond what I’d originally expected. I was sure his words would’ve crushed me if I weren’t so busy being completely appalled by how brash and mean he was. I guess it was appropriate that he looked like a frickin’ Viking. His dark blonde hair was longer at the top than the sides and the scruff on his jaw screamed man’s man like no other. Judging from that tan, he spent a very good amount of time outdoors, and while he wasn’t flexing, every muscle on his body strained against his white button-down like they desperately wanted out.

I gave myself a second of eyeing the veins on his forearms before I squinted up at him.

“And remind me why my conversation is any of your business?” I questioned. He took no time responding.

“Because I found this nice, quiet spot to sit and think in, and then you came along and started crying everywhere and bumming me out.”

“I’m bumming you out? Who are you?” I demanded just as the light shifted an inch and I realized exactly who the hell he was.

Oh.

Ohhh, I nodded to myself as I took in the asshole for a second time. This guy. I’d seen this guy before. Not just in tabloids and on TV, but also once at Aly’s and my pop-up restaurant in East Hampton – the very place I’d quit working at for Mike.

But that was a whole other story.

Right. Got it. No wonder you look like that, I thought. I mean most of Emmett’s friends were handsome and put-together but this guy was something else. The degree to which his body was built only made sense for world-class athletes, and that was exactly what he was.

An insanely famous, entitled and cocky star athlete.

“You know what – ” I held a hand up. “You don’t have to answer that because I actually know exactly who you are, and now I think I understand why you’re so comfortable being this rude.”

“Is that right. And who is it that you think I am?” he asked, amusement already curling his lips like he expected me to somehow get this wrong. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“You’re Drew Maddox,” I said bluntly. “You play for the New York Empires. You’re on the cover of everything. You’re very, very famous, which is why you have very little empathy for normal people with normal problems.”

“Ah.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded in a way that was deliberately patronizing. “Very nice. You know my name, what I do and you can identify my face on a magazine. Beyond that though, I can promise you don’t actually know anything about me. In fact,” he paused for effect, “I know a lot more about you than you know about me.”

I laughed right in his face.

“That’s hard to believe considering you don’t even know my name.”

“Come on now.” He broke into a grin that I would’ve found fucking irresistible if I didn’t know he was seconds from roasting me. “I don’t need to know your name to know that you’re newly single, you hate it, and you really, really miss Mike. Looking at your matching coffee mugs makes you sad. You want to be called ‘wifey’ again. You can’t sleep without him at night, you bought his bullshit line about getting back together, and right now, you’re in desperate, desperate fucking need of a rebound,” he said, looking pleased with himself as I stood there silent, fuming. A few seconds of silence passed as he arched an eyebrow and waited for my response. “So do I get a gold star now or what?”

All I could do was stare at him, so speechless and angry that I didn’t even notice anyone coming up to us till I heard an almost comically sultry voice beside me.

“I’m sorry, but do either of you have a light?”

I turned and blushed immediately since I found myself staring straight into a pair of breasts – absolutely huge, barely covered breasts. They were stuffed into a painted-on dress worn by a statuesque blonde who was already tall without those six-inch heels.

“I, uh… don’t have a light. Sorry,” I said, forcing my eyes off of her cleavage and looking up to find her already eyeing Drew – assuming she was ever even looking at me.

“And you, Mr. Maddox?”

Only now did he turn from me to her, taking his time to reply.

“I don’t smoke,” he finally said, wearing a knowing look that said I know why you’re actually here.

“Mmm, well.” Her cleavage plunged as she gave a cutesy shrug. “You could have a lighter on you for other reasons, no?”

“Sorry. Not a pyromaniac either.”

His voice was low and teasing, and it prompted the woman to giggle so sharply that I’m pretty sure the sound alone was what alerted the rest of the guests to our presence. Because suddenly, they were trickling over to our previously undiscovered side of the deck, and suddenly, I looked like an awkward, clingy, severely underdressed third wheel. Clearly, these two were flirting and clearly, our new audience was wondering what the hell kind of business the girl in the ratty leggings had standing between Drew Fucking Maddox and Miss Jaw-Dropping Cleavage.

“Excuse me,” I said hastily, thanking God for the beat-up Nikes on my feet because they allowed me to practically fly away from that whole situation. Now, all I needed was to get off the deck to avoid all these other eyes watching me and, in all likelihood, wondering why I thought I could win the attention of Drew Maddox in the first place.

It’s not what you think. I’m not a thirsty fangirl, and I wasn’t trying to flirt, I wanted to explain to them, though I was quickly distracted by the sound of footsteps coming behind me.

“Hey. Wifey.”

Seriously?

Without even hearing that low voice, I knew it was Drew because everyone’s eyes had swiftly moved from me to something tall past my shoulder. I felt my cheeks heat up from all the unwanted attention as I spun around.

“What?” I hissed under my breath, further annoyed by the way Drew’s smile broadened when he saw my pissed off face again. “What do you want? Why follow me when that woman is much more interested in talking to you than I am?”

“Because you and I were in the middle of a conversation and I don’t leave things unfinished.”

“Well, I know you’re probably used to getting your way, but some things are meant to end before you’re ready,” I snapped before turning back around to head inside.

“Right. This coming from the girl who refuses to get over her ex.”

I stopped in place, officially at my wit’s end as I spun back around and shot daggers at Drew. I wanted so badly to fire back with some scathing remark, but in the past twenty minutes – between calling Mike and meeting Drew – I’d been on such a roller coaster of emotions that I was too mentally tired to get smart. I was just going to hit the bastard with the truth.

“Okay, you know what?”

My pulse spiked as I grabbed Drew’s thick forearm to pull him out of earshot of the others. Shit. Holy God. Hot damn. I did my best to get past how absurdly hard he felt in my grip, and to ignore the look of sheer pleasure on his face as I led him to the wall next to the door.

“Fuck, baby. Get this part for me too,” he groaned, wrapping his hand around mine and moving my grip on his forearm.

“What are you doing?” I hissed as he laughed.

“Sore from practice. I need a massage.”

I tossed his arm away like a hot potato, my toes curling in my shoes as I fought to get rid of the heat that had just flooded my body. Stop replaying the sound of his groan, I begged myself while trying to regroup.

“Okay, just… quiet for a second, and listen.” I caught my breath, forcing myself to look unflustered as I stared up at Drew. “I was with my ex for nine years. I met him when I was thirteen years old, and we were best friends for seven years before we even started dating. We grew up together, survived bullshit together, got strong together. We basically made each other, okay? Who I am now, everything he is today – that’s all a credit to us being devoted to each other for the past sixteen years, because we weren’t just boyfriend-girlfriend, we were a partnership for most of our lives, and yet you think it would be natural for me to just nod along with this sudden breakup and carry on without asking any questions?” I cocked my head at Drew, challenging him to say something. I was really banking on shutting him up with this, but I should have known he’d be much more of a challenge.

“You have all these questions because he didn’t care to give you the explanations even I think you deserved, which makes him an asshole who doesn’t deserve your groveling,” Drew countered so matter-of-factly that my hands actually balled into fists. “You trusted someone. You shouldn’t have. You learned your lesson, now move on.”

Ugh. What the fuck?There was a chance he had a point, but also, why did he think things were that simple? I was flustered and angry and actually grateful that Drew Maddox was so fucking huge that he was blocking me from the view of the other guests, because there was no doubt in my mind that I looked like a red-faced, wild-eyed psycho right now.

“You know, I’m curious as to why in the world you’re so invested in this,” I said defensively.

“I don’t know,” Drew said with no hint of shame. “Probably because I just got my own reminder that you can’t trust anyone for shit, and I was mulling that over when you suddenly showed up and forced me to listen to you pine for some asshole.”

“You don’t even know my ex.”

“I don’t need to, it’s all the same. Whether they want to or not, everyone is going to wind up screwing you over at some point. It’s just part of their survival instincts.”

My face contorted as I squinted at his insane cynicism.

“Do you think we live in the wild or something? How do you even enjoy your life when you think like this?”

“I can assure you that I enjoy my life plenty.”

I read that dirty look on his face and rolled my eyes.

“Of course. Because people are disposable to you, I’m sure, and all you have are one-night stands – right?”

“Yes. You should try it sometime.” He nodded at our not-so-subtle audience on the deck. “Take your pick from any one of these guys. They’re all staring anyway.”

“At you,” I corrected tightly. “And no thanks. I have nothing against one-night stands, but I really don’t see them doing much for me now.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because,” I ground out before I’d fully formulated an answer. “Because I need… history and emotional context in order to feel good. I need to actually know the other person to get the full extent of pleasure,” I said as Drew broke into the most condescending laugh known to man.

“You really think that because you don’t know me personally, I wouldn’t be able to give you the best orgasm of your life right here, right now?” He eyed my lips, visibly pleased with the way his question made them fall slightly open. “Baby girl, I could make you come so hard you’d forget his name.”

Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike,I chanted in my head to fight the heat prickling across my thighs.

“Well, I’m happy you believe in yourself so much,” I snarked, satisfied with even that brief look of irritation I got from Drew before he rubbed his bottom lip and smirked.

“I should let you know that I don’t respond well to being challenged.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not going to let you fuck me on this terrace just to prove your point.”

“Fine. Then give me those lips.”

I froze.

What?

“You’re joking, right? You want to kiss me just to win an argument?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no thank you. I’m not really one to offer up body parts for arrogant strangers to pad their egos with.”

“To be clear, I’d be interested whether or not we were having this stupid argument.” His green eyes returned hungrily to my mouth. “But since we are, I should throw in the fact that my tongue alone could get you hotter than anything your ex could do, and the only reason you won’t let me touch you is because you know I’m right.” He brought his green eyes back to mine. “Again.”

Reverse psychology. Don’t fall for it.

“Fine.”

Whoa, whoa, wrong direction!

“Go for it then.”

Evie, what the fuck!

My brain screamed at me though my body took great pleasure in the second of surprise on Drew Maddox’s cocky frickin’ face. But before I knew it, the surprise was gone and I was backed up on the wall, his ridiculous torso towering over me as he caught my jaw, tipped my chin up and leaned in to hold his mouth an inch away from mine.

I closed my eyes.

Oh God. So hot.

My skin. His body. Everything. I couldn’t even bear to look because I was quite genuinely convinced that if I did, I’d pass out. This was Drew I’m-Super-Famous Maddox we were talking about here, and on top of that, he was teasing me. He was torturing me with how close his mouth was to mine without touching. I could feel the warmth of his breath between my lips. On my tongue. He was giving me only the slightest taste of him and it was driving me mad.

“Kiss me, asshole,” I finally hissed.

I heard his low, sexy chuckle.

Then I felt him tilt my face to the side and bury his face in my neck. Oh my God. The very first second of his rough tongue on my skin went straight to my pussy. My thighs pumped, my panties already slick as that tongue of his sucked and pulsed against me for a very, very good three seconds. Then it licked a slow, torrid line up to my jaw and finally returned to lingering an inch from my mouth. I opened my eyes, my chest heaving as I breathlessly waited for him to kiss me.

But instead, he caught my bottom lip in his mouth, raking it just hard enough between his teeth before sucking it like candy.

Then he pulled away from me, adjusting his dick in plain sight and looking thoroughly content as he soaked in my visibly dazed, frenzied pleasure.

Holy fuck.

I panted, unblinking as I stared at him in silence for what felt like ages. But finally, sliding his hands in his pockets and curving his lips, Drew spoke again.

“Seriously though,” he murmured softly, his eyes moving all over my face. Then abruptly, his voice switched back to normal volume. “Do I get my gold star now or what?”

I blinked.

You bastard.

My body shook with irritation as my high crashed right back down to Earth. But I had brought this on myself so turning on my heel, I bit out, “Goodnight, Drew,” before swinging open the door and marching swiftly back inside.