Chapter 16
Hadley
I’ve been hard most of the last three hours, sitting mere feet from the only woman in the world who makes my body come alive. Like a goddamn creep. Hell, maybe Knox is onto something. After Maggie’s little spiel about who she would fuck, I couldn’t drag my mind from the damn gutter. It’s insistent on living there rent free.
Then the woman went and rubbed the sweating bottle of water over her gorgeous face and elegant neck, and I was pretty sure I’d lose a load in my boxers when that trickle ran south between the most perfect fucking tits I’ve ever been in close quarters with.
Maybe I should start praying, going to church to atone for my many sins when it comes to the thoughts about Maggie that my mind runs through on any given day.
If I was religious, I’d owe some kind of penance, for sure.
But I’m not.
I’m also not immune to Maggie, who is currently talking over the event program for tomorrow with Levi, just outside the old bar’s lean-to roof.
“Hey, bud. What’s eating you?” Brady drops onto the barstool on my right.
I roll the glass and its amber contents between my fingers and take a sip.
It’s been a long night, and I’m almost ready to call it quits and go to bed. Maybe it would be better if I went first, make sure I’m asleep before?—
“Earth to Jonesy.” Brady’s waving a hand in front of my face as Spencer sinks onto the stool on my left.
“What’s with our boy?” Spencer waves down the lone bartender and orders a Jack.
“Your guess is as good as mine, brother.” Brady repeats the bar wave, ordering his drink.
“Nothing’s with me, you idiots,” I utter.
“Ah, I see now.” Spencer nudges my shoulder with his, eyebrows waggling. “Woman trouble.”
I give him my best Gemma side-eye.Am I that damn transparent?
“Well, you know my stance on women.” Brady hones his gaze onto mine. “Stay the hell away, less trouble.”
Of course he would say that, after his ran off with some banker and broke his heart. “Cynical much, bud?”
Spencer tips his glass toward me. “Nah, just fuck her and get her out of your system, Hads.”
My molars grind. “Hard no, Spence.”
“So you don’t like her? I’m confused. What’s the problem?” Brady’s brows are knitted over blue eyes laced with concern.
“Jones is trading favors with the photographer,” a rough voice drawls. “That’s the fucking problem.”
The three of us turn on our stools instantly. Heat prickles down my spine.
Fucking Knox.
“Shut it, Knox. Or I’ll do it for you,” I growl.
He chuckles, but the sound carries no humor. “Can’t wait to see you try, lover boy.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Spencer whines.
Knox huffs as a smirk grows over his face. A beat passes like time frozen as Maggie walks in under the old bar’s iron roof and to the bar.
Knox lifts his drink in her direction. “That.”
