A Hot Mess (The Hot Brothers #2)
1. Eloise
My apartment is a disaster zone of moving boxes and dog toys, each thing conspiring to remind me that I’m about to be an abandoned woman. There’s Sage, hugging her Chihuahua, Winnie, like the little drama queen needs comforting. Never mind that I’ll be the one searching for a new roommate in sketchy personal ads, or worse, living in a box under the bridge. “Do you think I need to buy a gun?” I ask. Dramatic, I know, but I live to tease her.
Sage gives me a confused look. “To shoot Ian with?”
The notorious Hot brother glances over, raising an eyebrow as if he heard his name.
"It crossed my mind." I’m joking. Really, I am.
“I’m going to miss you,” my best friend says, giving me a playful nudge with her hip. “But I can’t resist my hot fireman.” No damn duh. Sage and Ian met just a few weeks ago, and their relationship has moved at lightning speed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for Sage, but I can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. I want a Hot guy of my own.
Ian’s oldest brother, Beckett, drops a box onto the growing pile near my fridge and announces he's taking the kitchen essentials to the car. Dawson chimes in, saying he's also ready to carry a load. Ian picks up a box and follows his two brothers out the door. Good riddance to three-quarters of the grunting Hot brothers and their manly muscles.
Thank goodness, Atlas hasn't turned up for this moving mission. Sage knows I've had a crush on Ian's older brother for ages, but I don't want the Hot brothers to figure it out.
"I'm just joking," I say once they're out of earshot, my voice laced with laughter. "About the gun. I'm not worried about living alone. I’m just going to miss you so much."
Sage walks over and hugs me. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
“I doubt Ian will give you time to miss me.” I still feel a little sorry for myself, but I want to reassure my best friend I’ll survive her moving out unexpectedly. “If worse comes to worst, I’ll find a roommate to help with the bills.”
Our conversation comes to an abrupt halt as the three Hot brothers casually stroll back through the door, their presence commanding attention. Sage, ever the whirlwind of energy, dashes off, ready to give out instructions with her usual flair.
Meanwhile, I begin the task of packing up her extensive DVD collection that’s organized neatly along the shelves. The room buzzes with a renewed energy as the brothers' laughter fills the air, mingling with the rustle of hurried packing.
"Beckett, wrap that tighter.” Ian is getting a kick out of ordering his brother-slash-boss around.
“Bite me.” Beckett flips his younger brother off, making a show of tightly wrapping a plastic bowl.
Ian dismisses his brother and focuses on Sage, casting her a syrupy sweet look that makes the rest of us cringe.
Dawson mutters, "We're here helping you out of sheer goodwill, jerk. Keep whining, and we'll find something better to do."
I try to tune out the bickering brothers as I weigh my options. I’m not exactly destitute, but teachers don’t make much, so I’ll have to find a roommate before my savings take a huge hit.
Without Sage sharing the rent, this two-bedroom apartment is way out of my budget. Financial stability isn't exactly something teachers get to enjoy.
When I pictured my future, I didn't think I'd be contemplating selling an organ just to pay rent.
Things take a turn for the worse, and I almost pass out when Atlas Hot's voice booms outside the door. Freaking hell. I’m suddenly thirteen again, a blushing disaster dressed like a tomboy, gaping at the former star quarterback.
Ian opens the door, grumbling to his brother, “About time you showed up.” I don’t have to see his tousled dark hair or intense blue eyes to know it’s Atlas. Hearing his commanding voice is enough to send me into the embarrassing, awkward spiral I've tried so hard to forget. I dive behind a stack of boxes and busy myself with some haphazard packing. I’m sure someone else can greet him without hyperventilating. What is happening to me? Pull up your big girl pants and act like the confident woman you are.
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, waiting to hear Atlas's response. “I had to go buy new tennis shoes since Beans decided to eat my other ones,” he grumbles back.
“You’re the one who wanted to move in with me until your house is ready,” Beckett reminds his brother.
“When I asked, I had no idea your goddamn pot belly pig seems to live on a diet of Nikes and Adidas.” The brothers start another round of bickering.
Atlas walks in and gives Sage a hug, which causes Ian to grumble about his brothers not touching his woman. The sly look on Atlas’s face tells me he did it to get a rise out of his brother.
My heart nearly stops when he turns to me and holds out his hand. “Hi, I’m Atlas, the good-looking brother.” He commands attention with a sweep of his intense eyes, making me nervous in all sorts of uncomfortable ways. His black t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders and yummy, muscular frame. I try to pretend he's not suddenly this unbelievably hot and confident man, but it’s an impossible undertaking.
"Eloise." Is that really my voice? I clear my throat and clarify, "Sage's roommate."
"Nice to meet you, Eloise." He doesn’t even remember me, which might be for the best, considering the last time he saw me, I was a chubby, timid thirteen-year-old with braces and thick glasses.
He exudes the same magnetism I remember, only now it's intensified. Even his dark hair seems more rugged and stylishly tousled. I take a deep breath and try not to appear like a giddy schoolgirl.
"You too." I lower myself further behind the bookcase, pretending to be utterly fascinated by Sage's collection of little dog statues. Anything is better than facing Atlas right now. His attention makes me uneasy, even if it's just in my imagination. Which, judging by my complete lack of composure, that's likely where it all is.
“Eloise is Coach Martin’s daughter,” Ian blabs.
My heart stops, and I suddenly wish I could duck even further behind my box, preferably all the way back to last week when none of this was happening. I don’t dare look in their direction, or even breathe. My usual carefree, self-confident attitude seems to have flown right out the damn window when he walked in the room.
"Oh!" Atlas sounds as if everything suddenly makes sense, which is exactly what I didn't want. Recognition floats in his voice, in his footsteps, and in the way I feel his attention swing back to me.
"Small world," he mutters, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. His gaze travels slowly, lingering for a moment that feels electric, and I feel a flutter deep in my stomach.
I’m unable to stop myself from anxiously tugging at a stray curl, my fingers trembling with an awkward panic that feels all too familiar. It's as if I'm suddenly thirteen again, that awkward stage of adolescence when I was hopelessly pining after a guy who seemed light-years out of my league. The flutter of nervous energy in my stomach and the heat rising to my cheeks remind me that some things, despite all the time that's passed, never really change.
* * *
Time trudges along with the slowness of a snail inching across a vast expanse. My cheeks are ablaze with such ferocity that they could easily warm the entire apartment. Atlas continuously casts curious glances my way, each one intensifying the flames of my embarrassment. This, without a doubt, is my worst nightmare unfolding.
I can sense that recognition has dawned upon him, yet there's an unfamiliar quality to it, something intriguingly different.
Being noticed is not nearly as fun as thirteen-year-old me imagined. Instead of hearts and flowers, it's anxiety and lots of sweating. I have no idea why I want to bolt to the nearest bathroom and stay there until he's gone.
“Be right back!" I shout over my shoulder, slipping away from the crowd, feigning urgency as I escape to pull myself together in solitude.
Atlas's gaze follows me as I retreat to the kitchen, where I busily rummage through the first cabinet I encounter, desperate to distract my hands and mind from this crazy situation. One look at grown-up Atlas and I’m ready to jump his gorgeous bones. Fudge. Now that my best friend is marrying his brother, I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing more and more of him. How in the world am I going to keep my heart safe from him?
Sage finds me perched on a step stool, attempting to sort her pots from mine. "What are you doing hiding out in here?" she asks.
"I’m just trying to keep the packing going," I eventually say, instead of spilling my full anxiety.
"I’ll cover my half of the rent until you get another roommate," Sage unexpectedly offers, and I realize she thinks I’m still upset over her moving out. Oh no. I have a whole new worry now that Atlas Hot just walked back into my life and turned it into a hot mess. "I’m the one moving out without notice, after all." It's a generous offer, but I know she earns about the same as I do.
"That's not fair," I reply, shaking my head, hoping to reassure her. "I’ll find someone to move in."
Atlas saunters in, and his words leave me speechless. "Are you looking for a roommate?" I nod my head, already dreading what he might say next. "I could move in," he suggests. My jaw nearly hits the floor. Here I am, trying to figure out how to avoid him, and he’s offering a solution that would fix my economic problem while putting my heart in imminent danger.
The apartment falls silent, and it's like time itself pauses. Atlas stands there, hands in pockets, calm and casually handsome, as everyone turns to him like he just announced he's growing a third eye.
Ian is the first to recover. "Really? Move in with Eloise?" he asks as a smirk appears on his face.
Sage's expression switches from guilty to giddy. "Weezy, that's perfect!" she squeals, hugging Winnie tight as the dog puts on her best show of trembling in distress. The little diva doesn’t like someone else being the center of attention.
Atlas shrugs as though living with me is the easiest decision of his life. "I’ve been looking to get out of Beckett's place anyway."
“I’ll second that,” Beckett cuts in, grumbling under his breath about ungrateful asshole brothers. “It’s time you got out of my guest bedroom.”
"What do you say?" Sage looks like she’s about to self-combust.
I’m speechless, wondering when I stepped into the Twilight Zone. “Uh—” I clear my throat and stiffen my spine. “That would be great.”
"It's settled then?" Beckett asks, rapidly moving to finalize things before I can even comprehend what I'm agreeing to. His somewhat frantic tone suggests he's eager to pass his brother on to someone else.
“Hell yes.” Atlas doesn’t hesitate. "Beans keeps eating my shoes," he finally says, rolling his eyes. “And Pork farts so much, I need a goddamn gas mask.” His shoulders shake with laughter, a deep, contagious sound that fills the room the same way he does.
Beckett frowns. "You left them next to his toy box. And for the record, Pork has a delicate system."
“Delicate my ass.” While Atlas and Beckett debate the wiener dog’s digestive system, I lean back against the counter, wondering where things went so crazy.