Chapter 12
The persistent ring of my alarm forced my eyes to creep open but proved leaden with sleep. Disoriented and abnormally, pleasantly warm, mouth dry, I blinked into the gloom of a resort room blacked out to the morning light and hummed appreciatively at the hard embrace of long arms and a firm body cocooned around mine. The sensation was exquisitely similar to coming home until my groggy mind made sense of the very firm?—
My eyes flew open, body fighting the desire to bolt upright as I realized Broderick’s impressively hard dick was pressed against the curve of my ass. His gorgeous, dark, vascular forearms locked around my waist, breath hot against the back of my neck as he nuzzled into me, emitting a deliciously rough, growl from somewhere deep in his chest. The amount of mortifying teenage dreams replaying through my mind sent my willpower skittering for cover as I launched myself away from him. But my feet were trapped in a web of twisted, tangled sheets, leaving me nothing to land on save for the palms of my hands as I attempted to yank my ankles and calves free from the boa constrictor of determined bed linens.
“What the fuck?” we both said in simultaneous confusion. Mine more of a mortified, muttered curse as the unrelenting white sheets landed me face first on the scratchy hotel floor, rolling away in my misguided attempt to flee. Broderick’s in an adorably groggy bout of early morning bewilderment.
“El?” he rasped, as I ab-curled up to tear the sheet from my limbs, only to yank it off his body, which was now boldly on display. The glorious top-half anyway—at some point he’d stripped his hoodie, and evidently kicked all the blankets off and onto my feet. He wasn’t kidding about the human space heater thing. A thin sheen of sweat covered my skin, and the dry, itchy spot on my chin convinced me I’d drooled the equivalent of a small pillow lake in the Broderick-induced comatose that had implanted this impenetrable fog of insanity in my brain. As for the second? Well…that enticing bulge he’d just had pressed against my all too eager ass was now pitching an impressive tent in the dark gray sweatpants draped low across his damn hips. Like Broderick junior was determined to salute the day. Or. Me.
My mouth popped open as I traced up that line of dark hair, fingers wondering how soft or coarse it would be beneath them, before shaking the sleep and lust from my muddled mind. Broderick was gorgeous in the way ancient statues were gorgeous. He wasn’t bulky, but long and lean, like a swimmer, or runner. Which made sense, since he first became a hometown hero in high school for his ability to fly down the field like a bird on the wind. A skill which came in handy when he beat the rest of us down the bank and fished that kid out of that frozen lake senior year. That was the day everyone forgot he’d ever been a football star.
But knowing he was an athlete and admiring the evidence usually hidden beneath tweed blazers or fancy vests were two very different things.
“I uh, sorry, just—um—woke with a start. Late. We’re late. Presentation day! It’s morning. I have to?—”
My incoherent babbling seemed immensely entertaining, as a slow, mischievous smile spread over his cheeks, stoking the inferno taking up residence in mine. His stupidly gorgeous, defined cheeks. Something glinted in his eye as I clumsily flew to my feet, running my fingers through disheveled hair and cursing as I bowed my forehead into my hand.
“I’m gonna get ready—shower, I need to shower—for my presentation. Your presentation. You finish first. I mean—” I shook my head, wondering when the hell I’d ever been this flustered, if ever. But God, he felt even more delicious than he looked. Of course, he had to be even better than my fantasies. “Your presentation is on the schedule first, so if you need to shower before me, that’s fine. I can wait. I showered last night, actually, so I’m fine. I can just. Um. I’ll be going now.” To my untimely grave, please God, just swallow me whole.
A low, breathy chuckle emanated from the side of the room I would absolutely not be glancing toward as I retrieved my clothing from the table. Jiminy Cricket on a camel. Could that have been any more humiliating? Good thing I’d gotten my fill of Mistyvale hikes because under no circumstances would I be returning to an enclosed, captive proximity to this man again in my life. Presidents of billion-dollar companies—no problem? Hell, I’d met Alice’s sexy-suit-daddy asshole of a boss, and immediately confronted the company’s carbon footprint. But sharing a bed with my brothers’ best friend, and I was a babbling, bumbling imbecile.
Broderick
Dad
How’s it going?
Broderick
So far, so good.
Dad
When will we know results?
Broderick
Finalists will be announced tonight.
Dad
I have no doubts you’re one of them.
Broderick
My competitors are all more than qualified for their causes, so I’m not getting my hopes up.
Dad
Your competitors might be qualified, but my son is too humble.
How’s Elora?
I blew out a heavy breath, wishing I could hear the tone of the question. Dad was the only person I’d ever confided in about my feelings for the guys’ little sister. How was Elora? Breathtaking. That’s what I wanted to say. Instead, I slid the device into my pocket as I tracked her through the space. Elora, in a sleek black jumpsuit with a diamond cut out of the back, whisking around the room, making introductions, and helping the first-time attendees was an insane turn on. She was gorgeous. But the polished version of my Pix held nothing to the sleep-disheveled, babbling beauty that tore me from bed this morning in a flailing, sheet-stealing fiasco. I’d never seen her so…frazzled. Some purely primal, male part of my brain took a fucked-up kind of satisfaction at her sudden onset inability to articulate. And even more fucked-up satisfaction as her eyes locked on my body, that mouth popping open. Like she didn’t hate what she saw. A woman like Elora noticing you was the highest kind of compliment, but for her to gape like that…my mind concocted very different uses for that mouth before I reigned in my rogue imagination.
Off limits.
Despite my brain repeating the mantra, the image of that skimpy lingerie clinging to her curves flashed in my vision. So did the pert peak of hard nipples. And I in no way meant to catalog the way the silk clung to her perfect ass, but here I was, fighting a hard on at a conference for the nation’s most brilliant young minds. What in the hell happened to that blessed hoody? Was she trying to drive me into madness?
But herein lay the problem: I wanted her. Had always wanted her. Had never had the guts to admit to her brothers how deeply I needed this woman in my life. But Elora had. Not to her brothers, of course. They’d never let her live it down. But to me. I’d royally fucked up in how I responded…twice. But at least at some point, the bombshell holding an entire posse of businesswomen rapt with her words had cared for me. Shared in my pathetic attraction to the one person that wasn’t an option.
Over the last year, I’d convinced myself she’d somehow turned it off. But based on El’s reaction this morning…Brexley Rhodes might very well be onto something.
Maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t completely fucked myself out of a chance with her… if I was willing to risk the only friendships I had back home.
A gentle throat clearing pulled my attention to the chair beside me. I’d settled at a table in the back of the room, the white cloth draping it now covered in half-heartedly discarded cups of coffee, cell phones, even a few bags belonging to women who evidently deemed me trustworthy enough to keep watch of their belongings.
The blue slipcovers over the chairs coordinated with the tacky hotel carpet, and now perched on the one beside me, was none other than Johanna King, hostess of the event.
“Afternoon, Professor Allen,” she said with a smile, too practiced to be real. Johanna was the kind of polished that belonged in magazines. Her sleek golden hair came down just past her collar bones, curled enough to look impeccably effortless without becoming disheveled. She had too much neck, not enough warmth in those calculating hazel-green eyes and moved a lot like she rehearsed each intentional shift of her limbs or weight. A dancer on a stage rather than a woman sitting at a table. It made my stomach uneasy. Instincts screaming that all was not as it seemed, despite her pleasant demeanor and hospitality.
“Afternoon, Miss King,” I said, giving her a cordial nod. My gut instincts might be rearing, but that didn’t negate her success in her field, or the impact she would have here on this congregation of ambitious minds. Professional formality was more than owed. “What can I do for you today?”
“Just wanted to drop by and make sure you’re enjoying your time at the event or remedy it if you’re not.”
My mind immediately flipped to the groggy memory of Elora cradled against my body, and how long-awaited the sensation had been. Smiling, I said, “Time of my life. Thanks for orchestrating such a unique opportunity.” Not that she could take credit for the booking glitch, though I certainly wasn’t complaining.
She laughed, and when she leaned forward in apparent recovery, her delicate hand came down on my forearm, where I’d rolled my button up sleeves to the elbow. My eyes dropped to where she gave me a squeeze, her skin on mine. That was… not my favorite. If it hadn’t been for the Rhodes being just as touchy-feely as my parents, I likely would never allow a stranger within a five-foot radius. But they’d beaten physical affection into me over the years, and it was that and that alone that kept me from disentangling from her too-friendly clutches.
“My pleasure. This batch is especially promising, don’t you think?”
“A little bias, I’m afraid,” I said, leaning back in relief when she removed her hand from my arm, tucking a long strand of honey hair behind an ear baring precisely one gold hoop.
“Oh, don’t be so modest. You’ve earned your place on that stage.”
Smiling, my eyes drifted back to Pix. It certainly wasn’t my cause on my mind as I crossed my arms to move them out of range. She’d been brilliant today. Engaging the audience, not afraid to answer questions on the spot or crack a witty joke. It had been magnetizing to watch. Even Mara was on fire during her portion of the talk. “My competitors are all fantastic. You don’t happen to have secondary grants hidden up your sleeve?”
She laughed lightly, straightening the arm of her blazer. But she ended the laugh by laying her hand on my shoulder, shaking her head. “So humble, Mr. Allen. And unfortunately, not this time around. Although, in the future, we’ll have to account for this caliber of talent.”
“That might be in your best interest,” I agreed. What organizer wouldn’t want their name on these causes? Elora’s was fantastic, but I could begrudgingly admit the others were also just as worthy.
“Although, between you and me, I think you’ll be quite pleased with the score tallies this afternoon.” Her voice climbed up, a brow subtly arching as though she expected a much larger reaction to that line of bait than I gave her. Unbothered, she continued, “You and your fellow Alaskan are solidly in the lead. What are the odds of two of you coming from the same tiny town, huh?”
“Statistically? Nonexistent,” I breathed, gut crashing as Pierce made his way over toward Pix.
“Must be one hell of an island.”
“The best,” I grunted noncommittally, eyes flicking between that eager, press-worthy smile and Elora, as she embraced Thor the Abercrombie model, before trading for his sister, to my immense relief. “Though it certainly poses its own unique challenges.”
“Challenges that have inspired you both to engineer admirable remedies.”
“A good silver lining.”
“Are you an opportunist, Mr. Allen?” Something in the shift of her tone brought my focus back to the woman sitting well within my personal bubble. She slowly eased forward with conspiracy written across those pretty, strategic features.
“A realist, I’m afraid,” I said matter-of-factly. Her chime of a laugh did nothing to disarm my unease around her.
“You impressed some powerful people in your presentation today. People that could make or break this grab for the grant. I don’t think you need to worry about moving on to the next round of finalists.”
Oddly enough, I was uncharacteristically at ease after my pitch. I was prepared, confident, well-organized, and it showed. Whether I made it to the next round of qualifications was out of my control, and for once in my life, I wasn’t obsessing over the outcome. No, I was obsessing over something worse. Something I shouldn’t want and couldn’t have and yet was rapidly deciding to pursue, anyway. Because nothing and no one had ever fit in my life quite like El in my arms this morning. And nobody had ever gotten my blood pumping like her adorable rambling.
My mind left the conference the moment she landed in my hotel room.
“Thanks for that—I did my best,” I said, aware the delay in my response was likely more than noticeable.
“Well, it showed. You know, a few of the panelists are going out for drinks tonight. If you want to come along, I’d be happy to introduce you.”
“That sounds uncomfortably like cheating,” I said, glancing back her way just in time for her brows to furrow.
“Nonsense, silly. Networking is half the reason we’re all here this week, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps,” I allotted, thinking back to Elora’s words. Would she go if Johanna extended the opportunity to her? Probably.
“It’s not cheating. Shaking hands doesn’t garter any favors.” But even as she said it, it felt as though it naturally would. Maybe she was right, and this was a classic case of overthinking. But if I was going to meet the panelists, I’d be doing it beside Elora. Elora, who was heading out of the ballroom beside Lief Erikson, reincarnated.
Now or never, Broderick.
“If you don’t mind, I actually owe my fellow Alaskan a drink. Made a little wager. She kicked my ass. She’s a hell of a presenter, isn’t she?”
“Very impressive,” Johanna agreed amicably, though the change in subject deepened that subtle pinch in what had to be Botox enhanced brows. “But don’t count yourself out just yet,” she added, canting her head as she brushed invisible debris off my shoulder, trailing her fingers down my arm until she squeezed my elbow. I stood, nodding as I disentangled. Christ, she was forward.
“Thanks for stopping by, Miss King. I’ll see you around.”
“It’s Johanna,” she corrected cheerfully, beaming and giving a little wave as she added, “See you around, Alaska.”
Shaking off the feeling of her fingers on my skin, I made to intercept Elora. I pulled my phone from my pocket and fired off a text. Just one question. The answer immediately popped into my inbox.
Broderick
You sure this is a good idea?
Brexley
You said she loves her music.
Broderick
Since high school.
Brexley
So, what are you texting me for?
Go get her. Quinny and I will accept nothing shy of victory, Allen.
Point taken, I sighed, tucking the device away and resigning myself to the inevitable, irreversible free fall off this bridge I was crossing.
Spotting Mr. Tall, blond, and perfect was easy in the sea of much shorter frames, but it was the bombshell in black my eyes trained on next.
“El!” I lengthened my stride, coming up beside them a little faster than frankly acceptable if I was going for casual. When she turned, her broad smile faltered for only a second before giving way to something…tentative? An adorable hesitation warring with the spark in her eyes.
“Broderick! Hey!” she chirped excitedly, like she meant it, and was obviously back in control of her ability to orate. “You were amazing today. You remember Pierce and Cheyenne? Guys, you remember Broderick Allen?”
“Of course,” Pierce said, too authentically cheerful for my liking. Couldn’t even hate the bastard properly. “Nice to see you again. Thoroughly enjoyed your presentation today.”
“Same, same,” I said, smiling. “Very inspired by the neighborhoods you planted in Bolivia.”
The man’s grin went sheepish, as if he was modest under that jock-ish exterior. “Didn’t feel like we could even make a dent in things.”
My chest constricted. Of course, he actually cared. Dammit. “To those mothers, it meant the world,” I reassured.
“Yeah,” he said wistfully, nodding. “One at a time. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.”
“That’s all any of us can do,” Elora added with a genuine grin that warmed my heart. Her sincerity was contagious. Like a hug in human form. “One woman, one kid, one house at a time.”
“True enough,” life-size Ken said thoughtfully before turning his attention to me again. “So, Broderick, you coming out for lunch? We had eyes on the enchilada stand down the street.”
Smirking, I glanced at El. One guess whose idea that was. “I, uh, would love to, but might have to take a rain check. El, can I have a minute?”
Blinking, she quirked her head, a hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks and warming my own. “Um, yeah. Pierce, I’ll catch up later!”
“Sounds good. Broderick,” he extended a hand, his shake sincere as I accepted. Prick. “Good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” I said, nodding to his sister. When our companions were out of earshot, El turned on me, holding her posture, but the subtle shift on her heels told me she was either as nervous as I was or picking up on my own anxiety, which seemed to grow as Pierce’s back shrunk on the horizon.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Now or never. Holding her stare, I smiled before asking, “What are you doing tonight after the finalists are announced? I talked my uncle into getting me tickets to Taylor Swift tonight, and I’m in the mood to celebrate. With you.”