6. Mav
SIX
MAV
“I’ll take another,” I agree as my buddy Flip passes me a bottle. “Thanks, man.” I take a long pull of the cold beer, smacking my lips together.
“When’d you get back?” Flip asks, taking the seat beside mine.
“About a week ago.” Even though it feels a hell of a lot longer. I don’t say that, though. I lean back in my seat and watch the throngs of sexy women who pass by my table in the VIP booth.
“Costa Rica was good to you?”
“ Pura vida ,” I reply, squinting at a brunette. She looks vaguely familiar. At my attention, she arches her back and gives me a little wave.
Flip catches it and snorts into his beer bottle, taking a swig. “Man, you are a machine.”
I shrug. My sexual appetite is well known, and since I never make promises, unlike my poor excuse for a sperm donor, my casual hookups don’t draw much resentment. At this point, the girls know what’s up, and my reputation—it’s a good time only, no strings, no expectations beyond the night—is respected. “Just down for a good time.”
“Or a good fuck,” Flip chuckles. Then, his attention is snagged by a beautiful, petite woman with jet-black hair and sexy kitten glasses. “Be right back, bro.”
“Yeah, right,” I mutter as he approaches the woman who catches his eye.
I watch as Flip chats her up, casually touches her waist, and gets her to lean into him. I snort and return to my perusal, letting the music wash over me.
Even though I pretend to love the party scene, mainly because I hate the silent emptiness of being on my own, it doesn’t mean I want to do this dance all the time.
The lounge and the drinks. The music and the vibe. The women all vying for attention, hoping to be chosen for the evening. Hell, sometimes, I don’t even want to go through the hassle of taking a woman back to my place for sex.
Christ.
I drain my beer. If Levi could hear me now, he’d call me a pussy. So would Derek and my brother if they weren’t so damn wrapped up in their own romantic lives.
I twist the top off another beer bottle. Take a long pull. Scan the area.
My eyes return to the brunette, and right now, I’ll take her. Because she looks nothing like the annoying, soft, peaches-and-cream-complexioned, auburn bombshell taking up space in my head.
My lip curls at the thought of Mckenna and her empty threat. No way in hell she’s got plans tonight unless they include studying at the library.
I flip my chin at the brunette, and a member of security opens the roped-off section for her to slip through.
“Hi.” Her voice is husky. She tugs at the hem of her short-ass dress, and I snicker.
I love when the women play coy after expending so much effort to snag my attention.
“What’re you drinking?” I ask.
“Vodka cran.”
I mix her a drink. Pass it to her. Try not to roll my eyes when her fingertips brush mine as she takes the glass. She holds her glass in my direction. “What are we drinking to?”
“Tonight.”
Her smile slips a little, but she recovers quickly. “Tonight.”
I down a shot of vodka, just to keep up the pretense.
Fuck, I’m supposed to be having fun. This is supposed to be a good time, yet I can’t stop thinking about Mckenna.
How fucking lost she looked last night.
The way she rocked the hell out of black lace. Who knew she was hiding that body underneath her nun clothes?
Her wild eyes and red cheeks, offset by the thread of pain in her tone.
It hit me full-on, and even now, the aftershocks of last night are affecting me.
I take another shot, and accept the brunette as she perches on my lap like a helpless baby bird.
That’s another thing. Mckenna Byrne is anything but helpless. I still don’t know what transpired yesterday to make her snap.
“I’m Kelly.” Kelly rubs her bony ass against my thigh.
“Mav.”
She laughs, a puff of breathless air. She’s so quiet and petite; she could evaporate into thin air. “I know who you are.” And then, her mouth is on mine. She tastes too sweet, like cranberry juice.
Still, I catch a handful of her hair and try to lose myself in the kiss. In the moment. In anything that will push Mckenna from my thoughts.
Kelly’s tongue invades my mouth as her perfume assaults my nostrils. It’s strong and floral, unlike Mckenna’s fresh, clean, citrus scent. She turns in my lap, straddling me in a way that obliterates any intention of playing coy.
Her hands plant on my pecs, slide up and around my neck, toying with the back of my hair. “Wanna get out of here?” she murmurs against my mouth.
I’m hard for her, for what she’s promising. The thoughts that circle my head, encouraging me to pull back, to go home, piss me off. I don’t do this shit. I don’t act indecisive or hung up on a girl. Especially not Mckenna fucking Byrne.
“Let’s go,” I agree.
She takes my hand, and I follow along. As we slip down a darkened corridor, I weigh my options.
I could take her home. Push her presence in Mckenna’s face the same way I did this afternoon.
But fuck, I don’t want to. Shame fills my mouth at the thought, tasting bitter.
And worse, what if Mckenna was telling the truth? What if she’s not even home, and I’m stuck with Kelly all night?
I sigh. I could suggest we go to Kelly’s place but… I squint at a closed door. Tugging Kelly’s hand, I pull her into a private seating area Levi’s used to hook up in the past. I kick the door closed behind me. We’re plunged into darkness for a handful of seconds before a strip of lighting surrounding the floor’s perimeter kicks on.
Levi was right; this is the perfect solution.
Gripping the woman’s hips, I pull her flush against my body and devour her mouth. I kiss her hard, wanting to pour all my fucked-up thoughts down her throat so she can swallow them. Take them away from me.
We hook up, and it’s transactional. We don’t exchange more than our names. Besides our heavy breathing and some of her moans, we’re quiet, caught up in the act. And yeah, it gets the job done.
But it’s one more casual lay in what is becoming an endless string. Faceless, nameless, commitment-less. This is what I like.
Mckenna’s face appears in my mind, and I nearly groan.
Why is she invading my life? Why is she everywhere? Why the hell am I comparing her scent—citrus—to the hot brunette I just fucked? Why do I wonder about Mckenna’s reactions, her day, and what she’s doing right now?
Anger beads in my bloodstream, zips through my body, jumps in tune with my pulse. “I gotta go.” I clean up quickly and pull up my pants.
“Uh, yeah. Okay,” the woman—Krissy? Kelly?—says. She fixes her dress. “Um, thanks, Mav.”
Jesus. I scrub a hand over my face, feeling like complete shit. “Yeah. Sure. Thank you, babe. You want me to call you a cab?” It’s the best thing I can offer at the moment, and to be honest, it’s a hell of a lot more than I usually provide since I usually offer jack shit.
“Nah, I’m good.” Her voice is soft. Demure. “My friends are waiting for me.” She gives me that same little wave as earlier tonight and slips through the door. Her frame is a mosaic of shadows; then, she’s gone.
“Fuck.” I sit down on the chaise lounge I just fucked her on and drop my head into my hand. What the hell am I doing?
Jameson would be appalled if he saw me now. My brother, currently pussy-whipped with his on-again, off-again girlfriend Amelia, would never treat a woman as callously as I did. Hell, the one time Jameson started to move on from Amelia—and we all rejoiced—he dated a model, Marisa Mella, and treated her like gold. But then again, Jameson doesn’t know about Dad. Jameson doesn’t know shit.
Heaving out a sigh, I pull my shit together. I need to get out of here. I need to sort out whatever the hell is going on with Mckenna before I unravel. How long is she even staying?
I slip out the club’s back door, grateful when I see my driver and security waiting for me. Drew blends in better than any bodyguard I’ve ever had, and he knows when to step up and when to fall back. “You good?” he asks as I approach the Escalade.
My driver, Alfred, is already behind the wheel.
“Fine,” I bite out.
Drew nods once and opens the door for me. He’s former Army and knows the city, the clubs, as well as I do since he’s also from here. In fact, his family still lives in Boston, and his sister is married to one of the Boston Hawks Hockey players. The captain, if my memory serves me.
“They win tonight?” I ask, referencing the hockey team.
“Three-one,” he confirms from the front passenger seat.
Alfred pulls out of the parking lot and points the SUV toward the brownstone.
“Nice,” I mutter.
“You have a good night?”
I shrug.
Drew chuckles. “Couldn’t be all that bad. The brunette was hot.”
“Like all the rest, Drew. She just wants bragging rights.”
He turns in his seat, narrowing his eyes at me. “And what do you want?”
I give him a look. “What kind of question is that?” I laugh. “Man, I’m living my best damn life. I don’t want for anything.”
Drew nods and turns back around. He looks out the window.
We both know I’m lying. He just won’t call me on my bullshit because I sign his paychecks.
Alfred pulls up to the brownstone. “Thanks, guys. Have a good night.” I slide out of the SUV.
Drew does his usual sweep of the property before letting me inside and saying good night.
I stand in the quiet foyer for a long minute, listening for sounds of Mckenna. There’s no way she’s out, so is she already asleep? Disappointment swirls in my stomach. I was hoping we could, fuck if I know, hang out? Watch a movie?
As much as I hate having her here, a part of me relishes it too.
I climb the steps to her bedroom and push the door open softly, not wanting to wake her.
I pull back in surprise when I note her empty bed. My eyes swing to her alarm clock. It’s 1:48 AM. She was telling the truth. She’s not coming home tonight.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
Panic floods through me, causing my heart rate to jump. Where the hell is she?
A caginess I hate claws at my skin, pinches down my back. I grip the side of my neck and spin away from her room.
Did she have a date? Fury turns my vision red as I think of Mckenna out with another man. Images of his hands tracking up her body invade my mind, and I clench my hands into fists.
Already, I can’t stand the random guy. Already, I know he’s not good enough for her.
I snort, the sound ugly. Objectively, I know she’s an attractive woman. Of course, someone from her pretentious law school is interested in her.
I take a long shower, promising myself that when I get out, she’ll be home.
But even after I pull on sweats and brush my teeth, her bedroom remains empty. I pace through the house, stomping up and down the stairs, my eyes constantly checking the time.
At 2:45 AM, I call Allegra, but the call goes to voicemail.
“Dammit!” I smack my palm against the butcher block island and narrow my eyes at the locked front door.
I make espresso, hopping myself up on caffeine and nerves. Then, I sit my ass down at the kitchen island and glare at the front door, willing Mckenna to walk through it.
The minutes tick by, painfully slow, as the silence I despise bears down on me. Relentless.