Chapter 10

Wade

"Holy shit, have you seen who is over there?" Ezra jabs me hard with his bony elbow, making me grab my side.

"Who, where?" I look around while rubbing my ribs.

"There." He points across the club that's jumping with loud and happy people.

"Who are we looking at?" Myles sidles up beside me.

I shrug. "No idea."

But it's then I see her.

Like the parting of the Red Sea, an invisible path is carved as people in the VIP area step aside as she moves my way.

Everything fades to black. Myles and Ezra's voices disappear into the void, and nothing else matters in that moment.

I've been thinking about her more and more.

Desperately trying to ignore the way she makes me feel, but I can't escape it.

I even dreamed about her the other night after spending hours scrolling through hundreds of photos of her online. I've read another hundred or more articles on her too, trying to convince myself I was just researching the woman I was being forced to work with. I'm not sure when I realized I was lying to myself.

I can't get enough of her, and she's becoming my obsession.

Her smile, her laugh, her incredible ability to make me feel at ease—like I've known her forever—and the confidence she oozes is all sexy as fuck.

For some unfathomable reason, right now, I feel uncomfortable as the sight of her makes my heart rate quicken.

She's beautiful; she can't hide it either. As if she's a magical star from another planet, you can't take your eyes off her, don't want to. And she seems so blissfully unaware of everyone staring at her. It's sort of endearing.

Demure and elegant as a swan, she glides my way. Holding eye contact with me, they sparkle, and I wonder if it's because she's not expecting to see me, although she's more likely pissed at me for being out partying in a club when I am supposed to be staying out of trouble.

Holding her gaze, everything around me fills with color again.

"Legs for fucking days," Myles mutters under his breath, while Ezra asks, "Did you not have a poster of her on your bedroom wall?"

"Spank bank material, right there," Myles confirms, making me want to punch him in the nuts.

What the hell do I care? I'm only working with her.

The words "Kali Roth," involuntarily leave my lips because she's so close to me. Toe to toe with me, actually. Right here. In my face, standing in the VIP area.

"Trouble," she counters. Her eyes narrow to slits. "Are you drinking?" Her sweet breath that smells a lot like coconut and chocolate liqueur puffs against the skin of my face.

"No." I hold my bottle of water up as evidence. "See."

Without a word, she takes it from me, unscrews the cap, and takes a swig, leaving a perfect line of red lipstick around the rim, then replaces the cap when she's satisfied.

The heat of my friends' stares on either side of my face feels like holes being burned into my cheeks.

"Good boy," she says, the words doing things to my cock I don't appreciate.

What the fuck?

"Hey, I'm Ezra," he butts in, holding out his hand to introduce himself, and I'm wishing he'd given me time to let me do that. I do have manners.

"Pleased to meet you, Ezra. I'm Kali."

"Myles had a poster of you on his bedroom wall." He points at Myles, sounding like a boyish version of him from way back, making her eyes flicker with humor.

Dickhead.I'm also cringing internally.

Kali is so smooth she replies with ease, "A superfan, I like it." She slips me a curious glance before moving to Myles. "Lovely to meet you, Myles?" Holding out her hand, she greets him, and I notice how her eyes move up and down his frame, which pisses me off for reasons I can't explain. Can't deny Myles is a good-looking fucker. The whole surfer, blond hair, brown eyes, and doesn't give a shit about fashion works for him. How he pulls the distressed clothes look off and makes them look designer, without them being, is beyond me.

"Hey," he responds eventually, looking completely starstruck.

I don't blame him. She doesn't fit on a beauty spectrum, she's on a level of her own.

Black glossy hair so shiny, I want to ask her what products she uses. It's like a mirror. I swear she uses her hair to apply her thick black eyeliner and statement red lipstick she wears. Unless they are permanently tattooed on, which would make more sense; it's applied with perfection.

"Nice to meet you, Myles." Over pronouncing the last letter of his name making it sound like she's hissing, she secretly checks him out again.

Does she like him?

Why do you care, Wade? You were telling her you hated her only a few weeks ago.

"You should come join us. Do you think you could help a girl out and you two could entertain my friends while Wade and I take selfies and sign autographs with the crowd of fans that keeps growing?" Thumbing over her shoulder, I follow it. "It's a shame the VIP area is being remodeled," she says. "This temporary area they've sectioned off on the lower floor isn't ideal, is it?" she asks, as if sensing how uncomfortable I am with the makeshift setting.

And right enough, there are at least two dozen puck bunnies, most of which I recognize from hanging outside the arena before and after games.

I've become an exhibit at the petting zoo.

"I don't want to do that. Not tonight. I'm out with my friends."

"You exhaust me, Wade Collins."

"We are off the clock. It's Friday night." The muscles grow tight in my jaw.

She checks her manicure as if it's anything other than perfect. "You are never off the clock, and neither am I." Smoothing her hands down her black dress that looks like it's painted on, Kali sighs. "Whatever, you win."

"It's not a game." I give her a frosty look.

Throwing me a dirty look back because clearly, she thinks I'm playing one, which I'm not.

She pats me on the shoulder, then looks left and then right, acknowledging my friends. "Have fun, boys. If you change your mind, come find me." Flashing a killer smile, she slinks off to the other side of the VIP area and sits down beside her two friends, leaving a waft of her vanilla and coconut perfume she wears behind, invading my nostrils when I don't want it to.

"What the fuck just happened?" Myles punches my bicep a touch more aggressively than I would have given him credit for.

I lean against the bar.

"Are you fucking her?" Myles asks from my left.

"Fuck no." Tension grows in my shoulders.

"Why not?" Ezra asks, laughing, whacking me over the back of my head, making me flinch. "You really have lost your A-game."

What they've forgotten is that I never had it in the first place. I don't flirt, don't sleep around. Had one girlfriend. Then fucked Britney.

End of.

"She's my publicist." I kill their curiosity.

"Since when?" Myles's voice goes up a pitch in surprise.

Standing straighter, I look at them both. "She's one of the specialists Marcus hired. Retired from modeling. Has a publicity agency, and she's helping to raise my profile."

There you go guys, short, sharp to the point. "It's as simple as that," I add, ensuring they get the message.

That shuts them up. I do my best not to look over at Kali.

Too late. Did it.

I look away.

But my eyes slide back again.

It's as if I can't help myself.

What is wrong with me tonight?

I can almost hear Ezra's brain ticking over and predict what he's about to ask next. "Soooo, will you go sign some autographs and take some selfies so that we can go have some fun?" Looking over the lip of his glass, he's wearing those puppy dog eyes that always get him his own way. Mainly with women.

I groan. Knew that was coming. "No."

"C'mon." Myles jumps on board like a giddy cheerleader. "Her friends are fucking hot. Especially the blond one."

"No."

Ezra's persistent. He won't stop. "Why not? I like the redhead. Killer legs."

"Just no."

Myles' breathy, high tones mimic Kali's earlier words. "C'mon, be a good boy."

"I hate you both."

"I'm your best friend." Myles lays his head on my shoulder and strokes my bicep as if I am a cat. "Go on. I'm only here for the weekend. Let me have a little fun, Wade. Please." He's being stupid. He gets more pussy than the three of us combined. Being a musician has its perks.

"For fuck's sake." I move in the direction of Kali's table and witness my two dickhead friends fist bump each other. "Assholes," I mutter as I try to ignore the way my body and my cock are reacting to Kali tonight.