Page 60 of Hard Hitter

Sweat dripped down my face as I ignored him to strip the plates. “I have plans.”

“Bring Chloe with you. She loves when I sing at her.”

I swallowed a laugh. Chloe loved Mac, but the look on her face when he sang wasn’t for his voice—it was for the hand I had down her pants under the table. She did a pretty good job of maintaining her composure, but she couldn’t hide the flush on her neck or the hitch in her breath. Those were all me.

My favorite was when she tried to carry on a conversation on the phone with me buried inside her. Fighting the impending orgasm while trying to get her parents to stop talking always made her ravenous the second she hung up. My wild girl.

“No, I’m taking her out tonight. She finally agreed to a date.”

Mac threw my sweat towel at my face. “About time. Is she going to tell D anytime soon? Keeping you two a secret is slowly killing me. It’s filling up my insides with sadness. Do I look bloaty to you?”

He turned sideways and ran his hands down his abs with a pout. I threw my towel back at him.

“She’s not ready yet.”

“You better make her ready. D isn’t stupid, and he’ll be here this weekend. Her hangup isn’t about you, it’s about him. It’s time to push, man.”

I sometimes forgot how perceptive Mac was when I was faced with his ridiculous personality day in and day out.

“Thanks, Mac.”

I thought he’d take off to do another lap of convincing people to come listen to him sing, but he followed me into the locker room.

“What’s going on? You’re crankier than usual,” he asked.

I tossed my towels in the bin and debated showering there or just going home. “Nothing new.”

Mac nodded, used to my succinct answers. Even if I wanted to talk, I wouldn’t know where to begin. He knew I grew up with my uncle and I didn’t go back to visit, but I’d only told Chloe about the rest of my history. I had the uncharacteristic urge to explain about Craig calling me multiple times this month.

He was close by at a convention in Dallas for the next few days, and he wanted me to come have dinner with his colleagues so he could pretend to be the doting uncle. I wanted to focus on convincing Chloe to stop holding back in oursituationship—preferably while I had her naked and writhing underneath me.

Or over me. I wasn’t picky.

Mac’s hand came down on my shoulder, mercifully pulling me from my thoughts. “If you ever decide you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

“You?”

“I can listen. I’m listening right now. Ask Eva. My listening skills are top-notch.” He looked vaguely offended at my disbelief, so I tried to take him seriously.

“Thanks. I appreciate you offering me your skills.”

Mac grinned at me—crisis averted. “Remember, if you come to me first, I’ll split the money with you from the pool.”

I scowled, abandoning any effort to make him feel better. “You bet on me talking about my problems?”

“Not just me. Shaw, D, Soren, RJ, and Holbrook.”

“Holbrook?” I yelped.

“He overheard Shaw setting up the take on speaker phone. We couldn’t exactly tell him no. It would mess with morale.”

“You guys are all assholes. RJ too.”

Mac laughed as I gathered my stuff. I’d definitely be showering at home until I didn’t feel the crawling sensation of my supposed friends watching to see when I’d finally break down.

“Don’t worry. It’s been weeks. At this point, I think only Holbrook remembers.”

I eyed him as I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Better lock your door. I know a certain someone who isn’t aware you’re the one who drank all her Frappucinos in an attempt to stay up for a special midnight screening of Wonder Woman.”

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