Madman, as those of us who aren’t scared love to call him, shrugs before he leans back against the bar. With crossed arms, his tight black t-shirt looks like it’s defying the laws of something... physics maybe, as it stretches across his chest. He looks around, taking the space in. Probably checking for his sister, making sure she’s not causing any trouble. Knowing Caitlin, she’s already relocated to the beach area at the back of the bar, as far away from her big brother and his prying eyes as possible. Smart girl.
Lou pushes my drink across the bar with a still-shaking hand before heading to the other end, and I give up on any attempt not to laugh. “You know you’re a dick, right?”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Dark eyes look over the top of his beer at me, and he grins. “Although I’m pretty sure I’m the one with the information you might want tonight. So maybe it’s me who needs to be doing the telling.”
I stir my fresh margarita before taking a sip.
Ohh . . . So much better.
“What are you talking about?” I press, intrigued. “What do you know?”
“The better question is who do I know about,” he taunts, clearly enjoying himself.
This fucker.
“What’s it worth to you?” His lips pull up with mischief.
The song switches to a Bon Jovi classic, and the entire bar goes wild. A pretty girl in a denim miniskirt and a tiny little crop top stumbles into Maddox’s chest, and I think he actually growls at her until she staggers away.
Hmm... it’s not like him to ignore a pretty girl. I’ll have to remember to press him on that after I find out what the hell he’s hiding. “Come on, Madman. Spill it.”
I sip my drink slowly and enjoy the smooth way it goes down.
I love tequila. It doesn’t usually love me back. But so is life.
“Again, what’s it worth to you?” The cocky fucker sits his beer on the bar and turns to face me head-on, smiling like an evil cherub. “And before you answer, think really hard.”
I run my finger around the salt-rimmed glass, too tired to play this game. “Quit being so damn cryptic and tell me what you know.”
He cocks an already cocky dark brow. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Since when has that ever stopped you before?” I challenge.
Maddox finishes his beer and points the empty bottle at Lou before bringing his eyes back to me. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“So dramatic,” I tease and wait for him to give up the goods.
Seriously . . . how bad can it be?
“Your Mom is gonna have you moved from working with the Revolution to the Kings team,” he lays out before accepting his new beer while I sit staring in disbelief.
“But I’m the physical therapist for the Revolution...” I argue. “She can’t just have me switched from the hockey team to the football team. They’re different organizations altogether.” But before I even finish the sentence, I know I’m wrong. Scarlet Kingston-St. James is the vice president of King Corp. She’s the general manager of the Philadelphia Kings football team, and she works closely with my Uncle Max, her oldest brother, King Corp.’s president and the GM for the Revolution, which also makes him my boss. “Just because she could technically do that doesn’t mean she would. Hate to break it to you—but looks like you’re wrong.”
“I’m not,” is all the response I get. If he’s trying to get under my skin, it’s working.
“You are. There’s no way my mom would do that to me. She’s proud of my career. She’s proud of the way I earned it. She wouldn’t.” I leave no room for argument because while the rest of the world may know Scarlet Kingston as an ice queen, she’s an amazing mom, and she’d never do this to me.
“Care to make a wager?” he asks in typical Maddox fashion.
Like I said before... he’s a cocky fucker.
“Sure. You ready to lose?” I cross my legs and sit my barely touched drink on the bar. “What are the stakes?”
This isn’t our first bet. We’ve been betting each other for as long as I can remember.
“If I win, I get the penthouse.”
“No,” I laugh. “No chance. That’s our penthouse.”