Four

Fuck me.

Why did she have to wear something like that to a fundraiser? The sleek satin dress hangs perfectly off her slender frame, dipping just low enough that I get an impeccable tease of her chest. Her sky-high heels remind me of the pain they caused when they were digging into my back.

FUCK, stop thinking about her like that.

Ava's boisterous laugh filters from the circle of people she's been chatting with, and my hand tightens around my glass. She must be a real comedian since her surrounding group is all cracking up at whatever she has said. It's a side of her I'm not well acquainted with and, for some reason, that pisses me off even more.

I remember that first night I met her here at Kings Hideaway, and how drawn I was to her. I also recall how quickly I dismissed her when I heard her last name. Just another entitled socialite, too spoiled to know the meaning of hard work, and too rich to care. I've dealt with my fair share of her kind before, and I had no intention of adding any more to my rich prick list. But the more I'm around her, I"m beginning to wonder if my assumptions were unfounded.

I need a distraction.

My gaze settles on a woman who's been standing across the bar from me for most of the night. I nod and raise my glass in her direction. She responds with a shy smile and heads my way, tucking a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. Shy, my ass, she's been begging for my attention for the last two hours. I noticed her staring for a while now. At the time, I couldn't focus on anyone else besides the brat, but now, after several rocks glasses full of amber, I welcome the distraction.

She sidles up next to me, and I'm immediately assaulted by her overbearing perfume. It"s too sweet and sugary. "Hey there, I'm Molly," she says, then bites her lip.

She's beautiful, just not what I want at all, but the feel of familiar hazel eyes boring into the side of my face convinces me to play along.

"Parker Cole. Nice to meet you." I hold out my hand like the gentleman I was raised to be.

Placing her petite hand in mine, she shakes it softly. Her eyes travel to where we are joined, and she stares at my tattooed hand and forearm on display, thanks to my cuffed sleeve.

"Why don't we find a place to sit," she suggests with fluttering fake lashes.

I glance up and lock eyes with Ava for the first time tonight. Though her expression is neutral, the gleam in her eyes tells a different story.

"Sounds good." I follow her to one of the booths across the floor of Kings Hideaway, and we situate ourselves in one of the more intimate seating areas.

"So what's your connection to the charity?" Molly asks.

"I'm friends with Wesley, who Greg used to manage a few years back."

"Damn, you and Wesley King… Could your circle of friends get any hotter?" she blurts unabashedly. Do I dare tell her my best friend is the heartthrob, star closing pitcher for the Carolina Bulls? Nah.

I smile politely, unsure of how to respond, before adding, "I"m here for moral support and to help out however I can," trying to redirect the conversation away from my good-looking friends.

"That's so thoughtful of you," she purrs, her hand now resting on my arm. "I'm childhood friends with Greg's wife, Claire."

"Well, I hope nothing but good news for them over the next few months," I say, then take a large gulp from my glass. I let my gaze roam over Molly as she inches closer. She's an attractive woman, but she's trying too hard. I can smell the desperation leaching from her mixing with the horrendous perfume she bathed herself in.

"Thank you… That is so sweet."

We continue with the bullshit small talk for a while longer, but I"m bored. There's no pull, no spark…nothing. She breaks the lull when she reaches for her purse and excuses herself to use the restroom.

I wave my hand in a go right ahead gesture and take another sip from my glass.

"Now, don't you go anywhere." She winks before walking away. Guess she's thinking things are going better than I am.

Leaning back in my chair, I observe all the patrons here in support of Greg and his family. There's a great turnout tonight, and I truly hope things take a turn for the better. I'd never tell Molly, or anyone else, this…but I"m also here because I'd do anything to support a family going through that hell. I certainly wish people cared enough about my family when we were going through it; any assistance would have been welcomed. For fuck's sake, our own family wasn't there to support us…

My eyes search through the crowd. Seeing Wes and Sloan deep in conversation with several guests across the way. He nods in my direction, and I return the gesture, knowing we will catch up later once the fundraiser winds down. We spoke briefly before, but they've been bombarded with people since the door's opened.

I"m scanning for the leggy blonde with an attitude but trying my hardest to deny the reasons why. Finally spotting her back at the bar with her head in her phone, I can"t help but wonder what is so deserving of all her attention.

Molly returns a few minutes later, breaking my stare. She bites her freshly reapplied lip and I know what's coming next. "So, I'm thinking of heading out. I"m staying at a hotel not too far away… I'm not normally this forward, but would you want to join me?"

My response is instantaneous. "I"m flattered by the offer, but I still have some people to catch up with tonight," I say, gently letting her down. I may be a dick, but Molly has been a nice way to pass the time. She doesn't deserve me being an asshole.

Disappointment creeps into her expression, but she brushes it off quickly. "Guess I misjudged. I"m sorry for coming across so bold."

"No need to be sorry. It was a pleasure meeting you." I stand to hug her goodbye.

Leaning in, she gives me a lingering kiss on the cheek. "Maybe we can meet up some other time. I"m in the city often," Molly whispers as she places a business card in my hand. I accept it, but only nod once.

"I'll catch you later, Mr. Cole," is the last thing she says before walking away.

My name leaving her lips sounds all wrong. Not at all like the temptress who taunts me daily with the sweet sound. The fact that she's the first person who pops into my head has my jaw tensing.

And yet again, I seek Ava out. Her back is still facing me, and before I know it, I"m striding over to her.

"What's so interesting on your phone?" Parker asks, pulling the bar chair back and sliding his big frame in next to me.

With a firm side-eye in place, I respond. "He does know how to speak… I was beginning to wonder." I'm being a smartass. I'm more annoyed with myself that I let his dismissal tonight get under my skin.

"I've been busy networking."

"Yeah, she looked like someone who has a lot to offer you professionally," I retort, and before he can accuse me of being jealous, I flash him my phone, which has the ESPN app pulled up. "Quinn was texting that Eli's in the bullpen."

Parker glances around the bar. "Damn… I get TVs aren't a true speakeasy vibe, but I may have to talk to Wes about adding some."

That makes me snort. "Now, Mr. Real Estate Developer, you know that is not going to fly. He loves the authenticity of this place."

Nodding, a smirk lifts his lips. Silence falls upon us as we both take another sip of our drinks.

"There's a sports bar two or three blocks over… You want to go catch the end of the game?" he asks in a tone I've never heard from him.

My mouth falls open. "Wait, did you just nicely extend an offer to me?"

He rolls his eyes. "Oh fuck off, it's not that big of a deal."

A shit-eating grin takes over my face because yes. It. Is.

"Put it this way, Legs, I'm heading to the sports bar down the street to watch my best friend pitch." Standing, he finishes off the rest of his whiskey, and I can't help but quiver at the way his throat moves when he swallows. "If you are coming…let"s go." He starts heading in Sloan and Wes's direction, and even though I love defying him, for once, I don't. Maybe since we aren't at work, he will let his guard down. I'm curious to see what hanging out with him one-on-one would be like.

The only other time we were ever alone…there wasn't much hanging out involved.

And with that thought, maybe this isn't the best idea.

"Since you don't have any TVs in this place, we're going to head out and catch Eli closing out against the Orioles," Parker says in a teasing tone to Wes as they do that bro handshake/hug thing.

Sloan pulls me into an embrace. "So now you guys are hanging out?" she questions in my ear.

"It's not like that," I hiss and pinch her butt.

"Hey, hands off my woman's ass, Av." Wes pulls Sloan into his side, laughing.

"She likes it," I taunt, leaning in to hug him bye as well. "Tonight was great… I hope Claire does well with her treatments."

"Thank you both for coming… I'm glad we were able to do this for them."

Parker turns his attention to Lo. "Oh, and speaking of Eli, I was going totext you all tomorrow, but I arranged a private box big enough for the whole crew when the Bulls are in town next month. Once we can narrow down the game he's likely pitching, they'll get it all set for us."

So, he can be nice.

"Thank you for doing that. I knew you'd have connections. It would be so much easier if my brother was a catcher or fielder, so then we could pretty much guarantee seeing him play. But thank you for arranging that on standby."

My phone chimes with another text from Quinn. She knows watching baseball is my guilty pleasure.

"He's going in now... Let's go, boss," I say to Parker, then blow Sloan one last kiss before heading toward the door.

"Bar or cocktail table?"Parker asks.

"Let's get a table… Don't tell Wes, but those hors d'oeuvres weren't enough to fill me up. I need some food."

He chuckles, and it slides over me like a new song I've never heard but want to keep playing on repeat.

"Table for two, please," Parker says to the hostess. "And can you put us near a TV playing the Bulls and Orioles game?"

"Sure thing, follow me."

Once we're seated, it's the bottom of the seventh inning and the Bulls are batting, so we both check out the menu while Eli isn't on the field.

"I'm in the mood for a beer so I can pretend I'm at the game in person, but what's that saying?" I ponder, thinking out loud. "Is it liquor before beer… No, it's beer before liquor, never sicker…so I'm set." I do a little dance in my seat, excited for a cold pint.

"I never thought of you as a beer girl."

"That's the problem... You don't know me even though you think you do."

The waitress stops by, and before I can speak, Parker orders. "Bring us two of your Brooklyn Summer Ales, please." Then he looks at me with a smirk. "Do you know what you want to eat?"

I narrow my eyes at him with a playful smile. There's always an intense energy between us, has been since the first night I met him, but this is something different, something lighthearted.

"Yes, I'll take eight of your honey habanero wings. With ranch, please."

"You bet," our server says at the same time Parker speaks up again. "Make it two eight pieces and a basket of fries. Thank you."

The waitress leaves to place our order, and I turn to Parker. "Wow, I didn't think you ever drink anything other than whiskey."

"Sometimes I like to be reminded of where I came from, and there was a time in my life, I could barely afford a beer, much less Blue Label or Pappy."

That's the first time he's ever told me something personal…and I want to know so much more.

"What's your excuse?" he asks.

"Well, you may think I'm a private suite and champagne kinda girl, and while I do enjoy those things from time to time, I'm much more of a mid-level in the stands, with the real fans, drinking a cold pint of beer kinda girl."

Parker cocks an eyebrow. "You sure fooled me, brat."

I give him a heavy eye roll as our beers are placed in front of us.

"Eli's going in."

We tune in, watching our friend carry his team to another victory, not allowing any hits.

Drinking beer after beer, he's still an asshole, but for once, I'm not walking on eggshells around him. In fact, we're laughing, sharing smiles here and there, and getting messy over some wings.

It's, dare I say…fun. I especially enjoy the way he watches me lick the buffalo sauce from my fingertips. Not sure if he's turned on or shocked by the lack of etiquette this Upper East Side princess actually has.

By the time I check my phone, it's almost one in the morning.

"I better get going… I need to get back to Binx."

"Who the hell is Binx?" Parker asks incredulously.

I chuckle at his tone. "He's my kitty."

His nose scrunches in disgust. "You have a cat?"

"Yep, and he is perfect. I will hear no shade about my baby."

"What kind of name is Binx?"

I scoff. "Are you serious? You never saw Hocus Pocus, the all-time best Halloween movie ever? I don't think we can be friends, after all."

"Oh, the one with the three witches? One has the crazy red hair?" he asks, and I nod with another laugh. But then something flickers in his eyes as they latch onto mine, his face transforming with a mischievous smirk. "Also, I never said we were friends."

I wave him off, ignoring his last statement. "So you have seen it?"

"I don't remember watching it, but I do remember that my mom liked it." His voice softens on the last part, and I don't miss the way he used past tense when speaking of his mom.

"Well, it's settled, then…friend, we need a movie night so you can brush up on the Sanderson Sisters."

He shakes his head with a small smile on his lips. "Me and you?" Parker points from himself to me. "A movie night? That sounds like trouble."

My pussy clenches at the memory of said trouble. And with the way he's looking at me, we're definitely sharing the same memory.

The waitress brings us our check, and Parker pays while I use the bathroom before we head outside. It's the perfect time to shake off whatever moment we just shared.

"I think I'm going to call an Uber," I say, holding my finger up. "And before you tease me about being a brat, I typically walk almost everywhere, but I'm in this nice dress and I've had a few too many beers. I'm not walking."

"Well, smartass, I already called us an Uber. Luke and his Tesla will be here any minute. I put in the West Village, but we can update the drop-off address once we get in there."

Did I tell him where I live? I don't think so, but he's never told me either, yet I know all about his penthouse in Tribeca.

"Oh, okay, thank you… I'm so used to you throwing my last name in my face," I say, and my breath hitches, realizing how close we are standing.

His thumb reaches out for my lower lip like he did that first day in the hotel. "What's the deal with that? Why don't you take advantage of your family's pull in this city?"

A big part of me wants to explain…wants him to understand me and not think of me as the snotty rich girl from the Upper East Side.

Swallowing, his thumb slips from my lip, but he doesn't stop touching me. My body tingles as he moves his hand around the back of my neck, cupping it as he tilts my face up to look at him. This isn't friend territory; he was right about that.

I have to clear my throat before I can speak.

"Long story short…I love my parents, but I decided a long time ago I would never fit the mold they created for me. Growing up, the only time I felt like myself was when I was out at my grandparents' place in the Hamptons. They let me get dirty, explore, put my elbows on the table, eat dessert." I laugh because I know that sounds childish, but back then, I was a kid, and I needed that freedom more than I realized. "And then in college, when I met Sloan and Quinn, not being placed in the perfect little bubble my parents created for me was the most freeing thing I had ever experienced."

His stormy grey eyes bore into mine like he's soaking in every word until they drop to my lips. I find myself leaning into him, begging his mouth to take mine.

Just when I think he's going to kiss me, a horn behind us honks, causing us to both whip our heads toward the interruption.

A man calls out from the window of his Tesla, "Parker?"

Again, to my surprise, he takes my hand in his, leading me to the car. "That's me." Parker opens the door, guiding me into the backseat. He gets in as I scoot across, but stops me in the middle, not letting me move over to the other side.

His leg resting against mine reminds me of how strong and powerful he was as he pounded into me that night. I'm salivating for a repeat, even when I know I shouldn't be.

My phone chimes in my crossbody. I pull it out quickly, worried because of the time that it could be important.

Logan

Hi gorgeous, just wanted you to know I was thinking about you. I had fun with you the other night.

"Why is he texting you so late?" Parker growls from beside me, and I practically feel his hackles go up.

"I'm not really sure." I keep my tone casual. Logan and I have been texting often and I'm enjoying getting to know him better, but a text this late is unusual.

"Don't play dumb, Ava. Did you let him come in the night he walked you home?"

"Not that it's any of your fucking business, Parker…but no, he did not. He's referring to our dinner on Wednesday."

"Oh, so you did go on a date with him?" he sneers, and that has me narrowing my eyes.

"I can date whoever I want."

"Not when it's going to cause issues on one of my biggest projects. A project I took a chance on by hiring you in the first place."

"Wow…" I say, scooting as far away from him as possible. Praying this ride will be over soon. "You know what…fuck you."

His jaw tics, but he doesn't say anything else.

We were having such a good time, and he's just ruined it in a matter of seconds. I was ready to kiss him, dammit. Ugh.

"For your information, we went as just friends. Olivia tagged along too…but you know what, I'll probably text him back right now and take him up on his offer for a date, just to prove to you I can handle myself professionally and personally just fine." I practically spit the last part.

He grabs the wrist, holding my phone. "You better fucking not."

"I do what I want, Parker… Get used to it." I flick my wrist out of his grip, sitting back with a huff. I couldn't be any more relieved seeing we're close to my apartment.

I open the door before the Uber even comes to a stop. "Thanks for the ride."

Barely glancing over my shoulder, I grunt, "And thanks for ruining a great night, boss."

"Ava…" Parker reaches out, but I swat him away, not in the mood for his up-and-down shit.

"Yo, Ava…" I hear from down the sidewalk, where I see my neighbor and a few of his buddies walking up to our entrance from a night out. The distraction allows Parker to grab my wrist again from where he has moved over toward the open door I am halfway out of.

"Hey, Ben," I say, looking up from where Parker's touch is lighting a fire under my skin.

"You should come up… We are going to have a few more drinks at my place." As soon as the words leave Ben's mouth, Parker drops my hand like it's on fire. I feel his asshole exterior rebuild in record time.

I don't even want him touching me when he's being such a jerk, so why does him letting go bother me so much?

When I try to meet his gaze, he won't look at me, and I can practically hear his teeth grinding. He speaks, but his eyes stay straight ahead.

"Seems to me like you have plenty of friends to choose from. Have a good night, Ava."