Chapter 8
Max was going to be thrilled with me. Six-foot-two, blond, well dressed and beautifully articulate, Pierce was exactly Max’s type, and—lo and behold—recently single after his last boyfriend moved to London a few months back. Months—which meant it was a perfectly acceptable amount of time later to move the hell on. A pop in my step, I practically skipped down the hallway, grinning as I shot off a rapid-fire text with his handle and phone number, because that’s what best friends do when they meet a Greek god brought to life.
Glancing up as I tucked my phone away, I spotted none other than my temporary emergency room mate stepping into the elevator. My stomach tightened, but after a brief internal debate, I called out, “Broderick!”
When he slowly turned back my way, begrudgingly holding out an arm to keep the doors open, my brows dipped in a scowl. What had his boxers in a bunch?
“You okay?” I asked, a bit out of breath after the gym and quick jaunt down the hallway.
“Dandy,” he said in an unconvincing monotone.
Okaaaay. Shrugging off his irritation, I said, “Pierce and Cheyenne seem great, don’t they?”
“Sure,” he muttered, pulling the headphones off his neck and powering them down without meeting my eyes.
“I mean it,” I pressed. “Their foundation is freaking incredible.” When his eyes widened irritably, and he tongued a molar, I demanded, “What’s your problem?”
“Just, not a fan of bonding to the competition.”
“Competition,” I scoffed. “We were just brainstorming other ways to generate startup capital. If you’d bothered to say hello, you might’ve picked up a backup idea or two.”
This time, those dark browns landed on me, an intensity burning within as he said, “Never wanted a backup.” I hesitated at the weight of the words, brain trying to muddle through them for the meaning he seemed to weave between words.
“Doesn’t hurt to have one.” Elbowing him playfully in the ribs, I said, “Come on! We’re going out for drinks. Come with, get those juices flowing.”
“You can’t be serious,” he muttered, barely audible as he rolled his eyes skyward.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”
“Nobody.”
“Then what the hell is wrong with Pierce and Cheyenne?”
“Nothing, I just think it’s a waste of time to connect with someone whose dream you intend to crush in the next three days.”
“Jesus, Broderick. Did you ever think about the fact that networking with these people could move your foundation forward faster than the grant even could?”
“I promise you; Pierce has nothing to offer you that I don’t.”
Scowling, I shifted my weight away from him, irritated with the judgmental tone, and a bit taken aback by his closed mindedness. The universe had more than enough resources to go around. All our causes were worthy of funding, and if I could make connections that would be mutually beneficial, all the better for it. “Jaded much?”
“I’m not jaded, just irritated by your na?veté.”
“Na?veté?” I barked, scowling at him as my temper bristled.
“You can’t think he actually wants to help you. He’s our opposition, not our friend.” Palming the back of his neck with an irritated huff, his eyes fell to the floor, and he shook his head. “Misdirection is a classic tactic to outmaneuver an opponent.”
“And what are you implying—that they’re going to try to distract me with their friendship?”
“That’s exactly what I’m implying. Throw you off your game. Play on your emotions. It makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re thinking so small mindedly.” I crossed my arms. This moody, broody bullshit was the part of Broderick I didn’t usually fall subject to. This was what Rhyett and Jameson had to coax him away from, and frankly, I wanted no part of it.
“Well, you do whatever you want, but I’ll be keeping my distance to avoid any bullshit distractions I can’t afford. Not all of us can just phone up our brothers and start a nonprofit.”
My jaw dropped so violently it popped audibly, images of cartoons flashing in my vision as I fought back the pissed off desire to slap him. “Excuse me?” I barked.
“Why did you even put your name in the hat in the first place? You don’t need the money.”
“As flattered as I am that you believe that, I can’t actually fund this myself.”
His scoff brought to mind how satisfying it would be to knee him in the balls. Just to top off the insult sundae with a cherry from planet dick head, he added, “No, but between you, Rhy, James and Pax, I think you’re plenty covered.”
“My success will not be dictated by the achievements of my brothers,” I snapped. Chest heaving, head beginning to throb dully. Okay, yes, Pax was an investor, but that was different. He was partnering with us—not giving us a handout.
“No, you’d prefer it was dictated by the influence of men that just want to lure you to bed. I thought your brothers taught you better than that.”
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, whirling to face him as the whirr of the elevator began to slow incrementally. “It’s not like that.”
I was about to tell him to go eat a Snickers and bring back Dr. Jekyll when he said, “What are you thinking, hanging out with a guy like that? Don’t kid yourself into thinking it’s just drinks or a friendship he’s after.”
The vision of my fist cracking against his face and blood spurting down his nose sent my teeth grinding together. Hell, I could even hear Rhyett scolding me for breaking Broderick’s stupidly pretty face as Jameson chuckled in resignation, assuming he’d earned as much. In reality, my stupid mouth popped open in shock, eyes narrowing as I latched on to the undeniable blade of jealousy in his tone before snapping it closed. Was he serious, right now? Fuck. Right. Off.
“So, what?” I looked up to the flashing red number on the wall counting the floors as we rose, needing nothing as violently as I needed the hell out of this tiny box. “Even if that was the case, Pierce is a perfectly adequate prospect. Smart, successful, cute?—”
“He’s just not the guy for you,” Broderick barked before I could add the crucial caveat to the end of the lineup.
Duh. But he might be the guy for Max. Instead of saying that, I yanked my eyes off the ticker and trained them on his face, nearly staggering under the seething weight of his gaze on me. If Broderick wanted to have an opinion on who I was or wasn’t dating, or to act like some jealous neanderthal, he should have made a move in the last fourteen fucking years I’d been an adult. Hell, he should make a move now. Fucking own up to this thing we both knew had always been lying dormant between us.
Giving him one last chance to grow a pair, I lifted my chin defiantly, tone cold as steel, and demanded, “Then who is?”
He held my glare, the pinch in his brows not easing as his eyes roamed my face. Jaw ticking, he just stared back.
Disappointment crashed through me, any last shred of fool’s hope dissolving into resentment as the doors finally whooshed open. “Exactly. If a successful, beautiful man actually has the balls to pursue love and risk the vulnerability that entails, he might stand a chance at being happy.”
As I rushed past him for the freedom of the hallway, my teeth ground together and I decided I no longer gave a shit what Broderick Allen wanted.