Page 23 of Hot Route
She raises a defiant brow. “Blaze. You’re busy and I can take care of myself.”
“I’m the highest paid receiver in the league for a reason, Baby Doll,” I say, walking past her. “That won’t change if I miss an hour of watching tape.”
I head through the house and thankfully, she follows me to my truck. I know she doesn’t want to let Jacob down. We’ll run by Connor’s, she can abracadabra the equipment, and I can get her the fuck out of there.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to a house almost as big as mine. This guy makes bank for being an absolute douchebag. Mads hops out of the truck and tosses her backpack over her shoulder, walking toward the front door like I’m not even here.
Hold on, woman. Give your puppy dog a minute to catch up.
Before she gets a chance to knock, the door swings open and Fuckboy McDickwad answers wearing nothing but a pairof swim trunks that look like they came from Baby Gap. Everything’s fucking bulging out of everywhere.
“Well, hi there,” he says, eyes absolutely glued to Mads’ tits. “Jacob didn’t say he was sending my birthday present early this year.”
She smiles, but I know she’s annoyed. Or maybe that’s me. I’m annoyed. My wheels are already turning, coming up with a believable story to tell Jacob when he asks why I beat the shit out of his employee.
I slipped and punched his teeth down his throat. My bad.
He tells Mads what’s going on with his equipment as we walk down a set of stairs that leads to a giant game room. In the corner sits a u-shaped table with four microphones and a large sound board. Two young guys sit there, and I recognize them from some of Tailgate Media’s viral videos. A third man who looks to be closer to my age stands with his back to us. The sponsor, I would guess. His clothes look like they were bought at a store for adults.
When he turns around to face us, his eyes go wide.
“Madison?” he says, choking on a gasp.
“Oh my God, Brady! What are you doing here?” She walks over and gives him a hug. It looks awkward and I hate it.
“I own Hustle Supplements. We’re the new sponsor of the podcast, so I’m here to talk about my products. I didn’t know you were in Boston.” His arms linger around her waist.
Did I mention I hate it?
Mads pulls out of his grip and flashes him a comfortable smile. I’ll be honest. I liked it better when she was awkward, but my girl is a professional. So, no matter what, she’ll be polite and do what she came here to do.
“I’m interning with Tailgate,” she tells him. I’m relieved when she doesn’t go any further into detail. Even though theyseem familiar, she isn’t divulging any more information to him than she would anyone else.
I clear my throat because I’m a selfish fucker and want to know who this guy is to her.
“Oh!” Mads says, remembering I exist on this planet. “Brady Jones, this is Blaze Beckham. I’m sure you know who he is. I also work for him as his assistant.”
“She lives with me,” I say, for no good fucking reason. Nobody asked. Brady smiles and extends his hand. I take it firmly, shaking it. “How do you know Mads?”Right to the chase.
“We went to high school together,” she rushes out.
Brady furrows his eyebrows slightly before speaking. “Wow. That’s it?” He smiles and turns to me. “Madison and I dated for most of our junior year.”
Mads turns away and heads toward the podcast table while I stare at Brady. I can see why she would go for him. He’s handsome and well-built. His biceps are nowhere near as big as mine, but I can see he takes care of himself. He’s well-dressed, has straight white teeth, and doesn’t seem super full of himself, at least from what I can see. He just seems…normal.
But Mads is exceptional.
I turn toward her and watch as she follows the cables coming from the back of each microphone. She looks quizzically at the sound board and reaches out to make sure everything is plugged in all the way.
Digging through her backpack, she pulls out a small flashlight and puts it between her lips before bending over to look under the table.
Every eye in the room goes big. The dress she’s wearing isn’t the shortest one in her closet, but I’d be willing to bet the two young guys behind her have a pretty good idea what she’s hiding under there.
I do my best not to act like a fucking caveman and rip her out of there, throw her on the table, and fuck her in front of every one of these assholes. I can’t do that. She’s not mine…yet. But she’s not theirs either, so I walk up behind her and ask if she needs help. What I’m really doing is blocking her from their view.
“I’m good,” she says, her words muffled from the flashlight in her mouth.That’s probably not the only battery powered thing that’s living my dream these days.
Mads wiggles around slightly before coming out and turning off the flashlight. Leaning forward, she adjusts a slider on the board. From the right angle, it could probably look like my cock is touching her ass, so I send a message to the room by putting my hand on the small of her back. The action seems innocent to her because she’s in her zone, but it’s possessive to everyone else watching.
