Chapter 8

Winnie

M ax wakes me as he tries to creep silently out of his room, but I pretend to still be asleep. I want to give him time to find Mason and sort through things, but more than that, I want to lay in his bed and relish in the euphoric memories of last night. I’m not ready to burst this happy little bubble yet.

I pick up his pillow and press it to my face, squeal into it as a worldly and mature lady of almost thirty does.

Max Hammer went down on me last night.

Max Hammer fingerfucked me last night.

Max Hammer wants to take my v-card… he wants my first time to be romantic!

I squeeze my thighs together. My horny little love button is already pulsing. Normally I wouldn’t hesitate to give in to the call, but how will my own hands ever pleasure me after I’ve felt Max’s touch ?

I stretch and my yawn turns into a grin so big it actually hurts my face.

Max made me feel sexy. Desired. Alive.

Maybe if every night of the next month and a half is like last night, I can survive the reno from hell.

My mind wanders again to the word romantic. I find myself mindlessly winding a curl around my finger, probably to keep my hands from wandering elsewhere. None of my Losing My Virginity to a Hammer Brother fantasies have been romantic. Imaginative, wild, unrealistic, kinky. Yes, yes, yes, and yes.

But romantic? Never.

There was a moment last night, when my clit was being ravaged by Max’s tongue, when my body and brain were overcome with heavenly sensation, and I stared at the dragon tattoo on his muscled arm, I thought that My Losing My Virginity to Max fantasy was well on its way to coming true.

In my fantasy, Max doesn’t take his time. He is speed, he’s strength, he’s precision. He grabs me from behind, his hands gripping tight to my hips as he pulls me up against him, to make me feel how hard he is for me. So hard. And so huge. And in one swift motion, fierce, like his dragon tattoo, he pushes me over his work bench and yanks my panties down. His powerful thrust has me crying out for more.

When Max is concentrating on the final touch wood-working details in a renovation, he wears this expression that turns me liquid. His gorgeous lips curl into a snarl and his brows knit over green eyes that are piercing and possessive. That’s the expression he wears as he drills me from behind, over and over, harder and harder, until I scream from ecstasy.

Not romantic.

I wonder what he has in mind for my first time. Us sneaking out together late one night, driving to the middle of nowhere. Maybe a field?

A field. He’ll have put a mattress in the bed of his truck and we’ll make love under the stars…

I bite my lip. Sliding my hand down my belly, I spread my thighs. I’m so wet. My finger circles my clit. I squirm and I bite harder on my lip to keep from making noises.

A door bangs shut downstairs, causing me to jump and my finger to slip and poke a decidedly non-sexy place. Ow.

I cringe, a wave of dread washing away my pleasure. I hate the sounds of doors slamming more than just about anything.

Hurriedly getting up, I locate my pajamas and get them back on. I probably still have all kinds of bedhead, but I don’t bother trying to tame it. I fly down the stairs but there are terse voices coming from the living room, causing me to stop dead in my tracks.

I hold my breath and inch my way toward the voices on my tiptoes.

“I would have at least wanted to tell Winnie about the opportunity. See what she thought.”

Jack.

My eyebrows go high.

Opportunity? What opportunity ?

I can’t stop myself from barging in.

“What opportunity?” I ask, moving closer until I’m standing in the doorway.

Jack and Max are standing in the center of the room, practically nose to nose, looking like two warring angels in the soft morning light.

Jack has already showered, his rusty hair damp and glistening. His beard is thicker today, not trimmed as neat as usual, and I like it.

The other guys are scattered around the room.

Cruz sits on the sofa with a bowl of cereal, still in his pajamas, a colorful and slightly rumpled set with plaid flannel pants and a t-shirt with a matching pocket.

All the others are dressed, although Theo, sitting beside Cruz, is wearing only sweatpants, which might count as pajamas to him.

Unless Theo sleeps naked.

The thought flashes through my mind unbidden and I have to tamp it down before I begin drooling.

Diesel sits on a stool by the fireplace with his guitar, his disheveled hair falling across his forehead as he tunes with nimble fingers.

Leo leans against the wall, Mason perches on the arm of the green velvet armchair chair Gunnar sits in. Gav takes up the whole love seat, his long legs stretched out, and his sock clad feet on the leather arm.

Axel is missing.

He’s not one to storm off, slam doors .

“Well? What opportunity?” I repeat.

With my hands on my hips, I wait for an answer, but no answer comes. The vast majority of the Hammer brothers are suddenly very interested in the artwork Anna hung on the walls around the room.

Only Max makes eye contact with me.

I’m sorry, he mouths.

My eyes widen.

They all know? I mouth back.

He nods.

“Everything?” I mouth.

I can’t read his lips to decipher what his response is.

Well. Either way, this is not ideal. But it doesn’t explain while everyone is acting like I just walked in on them in the middle of a circle jerk.

No one will look at me.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Wait, don’t tell me. I’ve walked in on another secret meeting?”

Several of them shoot me guilty looks, but no one says a word.

“ I said what’s going on and I know every damn one of you heard me. You,” I point at Gavin. “You promised me you would never keep anything important from me. If whatever you all were discussing caused Axel to storm out of here, slamming the door, it’s important to me. One of you better spill. NOW.”

My heart is beating fast, but not in the super pleasant way Max made it race last night. It’s an angry beat, a scared beat .

“We all found out about you and Max,” Gunnar’s voice is tight, each word clipped. “So, yeah, I’m not sure you coming at us about keeping stuff from you right now is cool.”

Well. The boy does have a point. Also a pretty, pretty pout. I hate myself a bit for wanting to go sit in Gunnar’s lap, put my arms around his neck, whisper my apology, my breath against his ear.

I received oral sex for the first time in my life last night. I am not myself.

Focus, horndog, focus.

“You have a point,” I agree.

Jack holds up a hand to stop me before I can apologize. He knows me well enough to know that’s what I was about to do. “We were offered a spin-off show. The network didn’t want to let us go.”

My eyes automatically go to Max. Now he’s looking out the window.

“The ten of you?” I ask, trying not to feel hurt, because the sadness isn’t even from the fact that they kept it from me. It’s that 1 Girl, 10 Hammers wouldn’t have existed without me, and apparently the network had no issues letting me go. Of course, the audience’s love for me was never as ubiquitous as it was for the guys. The guys could do no wrong. I was Winnebago.

“The ten of us, yes, but you would’ve been the star,” Max says.

I couldn’t have possibly heard him right.

“Wait, what? I would’ve been the star?” I blink. “I would’ve been the star, and I’m just hearing about it now? ”

Jack clears his throat. “Because we turned it down.”

Why hadn’t they told me? Why wasn’t I a part of the decision?

My anger simmers, but underneath it, an insidious whisper of self-doubt creeps in. Am I just not good enough for them to think of me as star material? I know they don’t see me as Winnebago… at least I don’t think they do. But are they ashamed of me?

“Why?” My stomach twists. “What was the concept for the show?”

Gavin is one of the most sensitive guys I have ever met. His piercings and his raven hair make him look hard, but he’s just a sweet cinnamon roll. Which is why it cracks my heart when he says, “Similar to the Bachelorette. It was centered around you, Win. And your journey to finding a connection.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable. “With one of us.”

“They pitched it to us as ‘Winnie’s Favorite Hammer,’“ Theo says. “You would date us all, eliminating us one by one, until you chose the brother you felt was the one you could fall in love with.”

“Or are already in love with,” Leo adds, shooting a disgusted look in Max’s direction.

You would date us all, eliminating us one by one, until you chose the brother you felt was the one you could fall in love with, Theo’s words echo in my ears.

Not only were none of them interested… none of them even wanted me to know about it.

As the weight of all this information settles over me, I hear my father .

Where are you running off to, girl? Another dinner with that fancy family? Hope they still want you ‘round after you’ve eaten them into bankruptcy. People like them don’t think girls like you are cute forever, remember. They’ll be laughing at you behind your back. Ashamed to be with you. Take my advice: turn down the sweet tea and cakes you stuff your face with over there. Sure, cry now. But you’ll thank me one day.

A sickening realization churns in my stomach: maybe my father was right about me all along. Maybe I am just a punchline, a joke for others to laugh at.

My brain can’t process any of this. It’s just too much.

Winnie’s Favorite Hammer. The title alone feels like a blow. How could the producers reduce the amazing legacy we built into some kind of tragic dating parade, and with me being dangled in front of the brothers like a prize pig at a county fair?

My face burns. The idea of being reduced to an object of ridicule makes me furious.

But that isn’t what burns the most. It’s knowing now, for sure, that despite how much I desire all of them, not one of them desires me back.

Of course they don’t, and of course they’d say no. I’d say no to myself if I were offered the same ‘opportunity.’

What the hell was last night with Max, then? What has the whole past year with him been? Was my first time with him just going to be a pity fuck?

I can’t believe that. I can’t believe he’d lie to me, toy with me like that. I won’t .

“We’re sorry,” Jack says, genuine remorse in his eyes. “We should’ve talked to you about it. We were just caught off guard by the offer.”

Max interjects, “We didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

I sigh. I can’t believe Goldie hadn’t breathed a word of this to me, either. I think about the last time I sat in the 1 Girl, 10 Hammers hot seat. She knew I didn’t want to be a plus-sized Bachelorette, but I can easily see that twinkle she gets in her eye, and can imagine her hoping for something she’d find even sexier, and therefore perfect for TV - a Bachelorette starring all of America’s official favorite brothers.

“Goldie knew I didn’t want to star in a plus-sized Bachelorette,” I say through gritted teeth.

Jack winces, guilt etched across his face. “We were taken aback by the offer. But we ultimately turned it down because we knew it wasn’t right for you, or any of us.”

“That’s why we didn’t tell you about it,” Gav says quietly. “Because it was a non-starter, since none of us were into it. It wasn’t worth bringing it up to you. And as far as I know, Goldie didn’t know a thing about it.”

“It was a stupid idea.”

It was Axel who spoke and we all pivot to see he’s slipped back in through the back door and closed it behind him so quietly we didn’t even hear him return.

“Of course it was,” I agree, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“I mean,” he goes on. “You’ve already chosen your favorite Hammer, after all, right?”