48. JASON
48
“ O f all girls, it had to be her?” I swipe my head to the passenger seat of my black SUV, just in time to see his eyes glint with mischief.
“Jason, did you see her? She was like liquid honey. Thick thighs, golden hair that I wrapped around my fist, and that pus—” His fingers curl at the motion as he pushes his hips up in a thrust.
“Jesus Christ. Will you shut up?” He opens his blue Gatorade, the sweet scent of berry lingering into the cabin as he throws me an innocent glance.
“What?”
The audacity of this… shithead .
“I should kick your ass right now.” The leather of the wheel glides through my palm as I turn and drive through the big gates that guard the five-story building of North Viking Sports.
Personally, I like Ford. He reminds me of my best friend, Hunter, with his fuck-all attitude and desire to do whatever he wants.
Professionally? I should drop the LA Knight’s enforcer—in the form of 200 pounds of solid muscle—before he taints my reputation. But Spencer Sports is only six months old, and I can’t afford to lose my biggest client.
“For fucking some girls?” It’s a skill, really, sounding so indignant.
“Not some girls, Ford. You fucked your coach’s niece in a parking lot.” I run my hand over my face, pushing out whatever oxygen is left in my lungs as I shake my head. “Her ass is all over the internet. Literally . You're lucky he didn’t bench you. What’s next? Fucking your teammate’s sister?” There’s being a bad boy and there’s aiming for disaster. Ford has a talent for the latter.
His eyes burn into my cheek, and I don’t have to look to know his troublesome grin has expanded to the sides of his black buzz cut.
“Tarasov does have a very hot sister. She’s my age, I think.” He chuckles.
“For fuck’s sake, Ford.” I park my car in one of the lots in front of the NVS headquarters, then glance over to the most wanted and infamous man of the NHL.
I want to wipe that smug grin from his toffee-shaded face. Damn hockey player. I should’ve stuck with fighters. At least they don’t face any repercussions for their image.
“Don’t fuck his sister,” I add, a little more grim, even though it does fuck all. His snicker grows to a full laugh, pride flashing in his gaze while his dark eyebrows lift.
“Come on, it’s a little funny?” Ford continues, like he just pulled the best prank ever, taking a sip of his blue drink.
Too bad for him this ain’t high school anymore, and if he doesn’t get his shit together, winning the State Championship in his senior year will be the highlight of his career.
“Hilarious. Glad you are living up to your fuckboy standards, but I’m your agent and you’re making it fucking impossible to do my job. If you continue to ruin your reputation, your next commercial will be you in a doughnut suit at Dunks,” I tell him with a frown that is meant to do something. The fact that he’s glancing at his phone says it’s not leaving an impression.
“Ain’t no way I’m doing that.”
I pull the device from his hand. “Then stop fucking around and behave or no major brand will be willing to work with you anymore and you’ll be scraping up gigs like Taco Bell just to afford gas for your flashy G-Wagon after your coach fires your ass.”
He mumbles something I don’t bother understanding, snatching his phone back from my grasp, as we exit the vehicle and walk toward the entrance of the red brick building.
A big hall with 12-foot ceilings and marble floors announces our arrival as our steps echo through the space. The quirky brunette at the front office tells us we are expected on the top floor before she throws her lashes at Ford in an attempt to grab his attention.
“Don’t even think about it.”
His responding growl is loud when I pull his arm and give him a nudge into the elevator.
“Come on, man! She’s cute. Maybe she has a couple friends who can join me and Cash for drinks later.”
Cash . I’m pushing back the smile that wants to slip through at the mention of my little brother’s nickname. It’s no wonder Ford and Jordan became best friends at Berkeley University. They both have a wicked sense of humor, a pretty boy face, and make it their mission to make my life hard as fuck.
“Please don’t suck him into your orbit of destruction.” My attention flickers to his hand as he flips me off.
“I’m not sure why he says you’re his favorite brother. You’re fucking boring.”
“You’d know if you’d met Jacob.”
We line up against the back of the elevator, a deep sigh falling from my lips as Ford rests his back against the shiny paneling.
“Your older brother?” he asks, and I hum in agreement. “Y’all don’t get along, right?”
I snort, because that’s a fucking understatement. My stomach churns just at the thought of him.
“Oh, damn. You hate him.”
“If he was a vampire, I’d drive a stake through his heart.” The older Jacob and I get, the more we become strangers, and that’s exactly how I like it. He’s a narcissistic asshole who I wouldn’t give a second of my time to if he wasn’t related to me.
“Hot damn, Cash never went into detail about this fucked-up brotherhood.”
“That’s because he feels the same. Can you stop digging into my family connections and focus?” The last thing I need is a conversation about my shithead older brother to fuck with my mood some more.
I can’t wait for this day to be over.
The metal doors slide open, and I lower my voice as we step out, smoothly changing the subject. “You need this deal.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The waiting area is spacious, with the same high ceilings and a view of the Hollywood hills. Memorabilia of past athletes that represented the brand decorate the walls, with two sofas placed opposite of each other and a front desk behind it.
“I mean it,” I grumble. “They are hesitant to sign you after your last amateur Pornhub contribution. The next few jobs will be a trial, and we want them on our team.” I poke his white North Viking Sports hoodie-covered chest with a frown. Kiss-ass. “Scratch that. We need them on our team.”
“Oh, damn , I don’t mind having her on my team.”
I sigh when his lustful eyes move past me— again —deciding to ignore the horny smile tugging up his cheeks as I follow his vision.
When in the hell did I switch from sports agent to babysitter for broody athletes?
But as soon as my gaze collides with whoever he’s staring at, my limbs freeze. My heart stops for just a split second before it’s kick-starting back to life by the wave of anger crawling up my spine. You can’t be serious.
“What the fuck?!”
Edward Smith, the director of the company, walks out of his office with a woman by his side, one who I could pick out of a line-up, blind, just by smelling her vanilla-scented skin. I’d recognize her wavy blonde hair in a crowded room, and those curves are not something I can forget, even though I want to. But it’s her whiskey eyes that hit me like a knife in the chest as she casually strolls beside him on her five-inch heels.
Fuck. My. Life.
“She’s hot, right? Talking about honey .” He lets out a low whistle, his gaze roaming every curve of her body. The sight ignites a rage within me, like lava coursing through my veins. “I can already see her. Naked. Sweaty .” Ford licks his lips, and my anger shifts to him, the image of him and her….
Oh, hell fucking no.
“Shut up.” I pin him down with a glare, then grab his upper arm with a little extra force.
“Geez, what’s up yo—.”
“You touch her with as much as the tip of your hockey stick, and I will drop your ass so fast, no other agent will dare to come near you in a three-foot radius.”
Very professional, Jason . But the sick bastard isn’t even offended as his eyes widen and lips quirk with intrigue as he studies my expression.
“You know her, don’t you?” If by know, he means I had my mouth between her legs six months ago and kissed her tears away for the past seven years? Then yes, yes , I know her better than I should.
His grin expands at my silence, but our focus shifts when the sound of expensive leather shoes and high heels is only a couple of yards away.
Our gazes collide, and I’m looking for the smallest of shock in hers, any indication that this is all some weird coincidence, but her features give me nothing more than a stale, yet friendly expression.
“Jason, Ford.” Edward offers his hand to us with a broad smile, and we both return it politely while I swallow away the dryness in my throat. “This is our new brand manager, Julie Bradford. She’ll be your personal consultant from now on. Julie has been working here for the past two months and she’s more than qualified to take over.”
Two months?! She’s been in LA for two months?!
Her plump lips shoot a smile to Edward, and the corner of my mouth lifts in a frown that quickly turns into a grimace when her attention moves to Ford.
“Oh, I don’t mind you taking over, honey.” Ford’s winks.
I instinctively throw my elbow into his ribs, and he hunches forward.
Goddamn fuckboy.
“Oomph, goddamnit,” Ford mutters.
“Nice to meet you, Ford. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Ignoring our violent display of affection, Julie offers her sleek hand to the literal thorn in my side.
“I have to admit, all the stories are true, but I promise to do better if you ask nicely.” Relentlessly, Ford puts his flirty smile back in place, and it’s quickly followed by another attack to the ribs from yours truly, before I catch Julie’s eyes rolling to the back of her head.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ford mumbles with tight lips. “Don’t forget I sign your checks.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, throwing Edward a reassuring expression.
We don’t have to pretend this relationship is still purely professional. We passed that stadium the moment I flew to Boston and bought his ass out of an illegal poker game with a crime lord that was about to end with a bullet in his head.
“Julie.” I offer my hand and suck an extra ounce of air in my chest to dim the obvious fire in my eyes. “Nice to see you.”
Heat instantly trails up the rest of my arm when she firmly grabs it, the brittle hairs lifting to the air, followed by a jitter along my spine when our eyes collide. Flashes of temptation crackle in the air while parts of my body spring alive when I find her gaze rimmed with the same shock I feel.
“Yeah, you too.” Her lips curl slightly. I know her well enough to read that as a silent peace offering, before I release her hand, wondering where the ring is.
I’m not interested in peace offerings, though. Not even a little bit. Not anymore.
I’m interested in asking what the fuck she’s doing here. I’m interested in why she’s not in her corner office at her father’s real estate company. No, actually, I’m interested in when she’s catching a plane back to North Carolina.
But being fully aware of the situation I’m in, I conjure a fake smile onto tense features as Edward glances between us with curiosity. “Wait, you two know each other?”
“Yeah, we went to high school together.” I catch the slight lift of Julie’s trimmed eyebrows, but repay it with daring eye contact.
“Well, look at that. What a small world.” Edward gestures at the conference room to the right. “Why don’t you take a seat here and Julie will explain what we have in mind for the next couple of weeks.”
“Are you not joining us?” The only thing worse than sitting in a room with this woman is sitting in a room with her and Ford and no normal human there to act as a buffer. It’s like a free ticket to a car crash and I’m behind the wheel.
No thanks.
“No, Ford will be Julie’s client. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” Edward winks before he waves goodbye and finds his way back to his office.
“I doubt that,” I mumble, loud enough for Julie to send me a glare. But she quickly recovers, batting her lashes with that sweet smile springing free.
Fuck this.
I release the air in my lungs with a grunt when a hint of that damn vanilla wafts into my nose. Brushing past her, I drop my ass on the chair opposite to the door, and wait till Ford takes his seat at the glass table next to me. Julie pulls two bottles of water from the tray beside the door and turns around, silently placing them in front of us.
“Thank you, beautiful.” Ford shoots her a grin that’s stopped by his teeth clamped into his lower lip, and I roll my eyes before she starts the meeting.
I hate her.
I hate that she’s sitting in front of me with a poised attitude like this isn’t the least bit uncomfortable. I hate that she’s looking sexy as hell in her light jeans and checkered jacket, with a white crop top that shows just a sliver of her velvety skin. I hate how her golden locks flow perfectly over her shoulders.
I hate that her pink nail polish tells me she started this morning with a smile on her face, even though for the last thirty minutes, it has been nothing short of an Oscar-worthy performance. I hate that I can’t concentrate, fully distracted by the soft gloss on her plump, pouty lips as she goes through whatever plan they have for Ford.
For twenty minutes, I’ve been trying to direct my mind back to the conversation numerous times, picking up the occasional words like photoshoot, commercial, public appearances, and cleaning up his reputation . But my mind is more occupied, trying to connect the dots to comprehend the situation.
Did she plan this?
Is she not working for her dad anymore?
Is this another attempt to fuck with my sanity?
“Thank you for your time.” Julie gets up, pulling me out of my own head as she reaches out her hand to Ford.
“The pleasure is all mine, honey,” he says, sultry as fuck, burning my insides. “Maybe next time, we can discuss this over dinner?”
I’m going to kill him. Slowly, but surely.
Her brown eyes briefly lock with mine, and my heart constricts as her expression turns coy.
She better not…
“How about we get to know each other a little better at the gala this weekend, then do this shoot in two weeks and you can show me you can actually behave first? Then maybe we can discuss the next phase over dinner.” Julie gives me a questioning look. “If your agent agrees.”
Well played. I know what she’s trying to do, but I’m not falling for that pretty smile.
“We’ll see.”
“Oh, I’ll be a good boy,” Ford adds, because the man simply can’t read a fucking room.
“Until next time, Ford.” Julie chuckles, releasing his hand before giving me a curt nod. “ Jason .”
We watch as she walks out of the conference room, a flashback of the last time I saw her walk out of a room turning my stomach. How she walked into the bathroom with my shirt barely covering her ass.
Get your shit together, Jason .
“Touch her and your dick will be cut in half,” I snap, the second the door closes behind her and the thickness of the air disappears.
Wincing, he throws up his hands. “Whoa, okay, relax. I’m just messing with you. No need to involve my dick.” His hands protectively cover his groin as he gives me a disturbed look. “I need it functioning.”
“Your track record in the media shows it’s functioning just fine, but lay one hand on her and you’ll be looking for another agent with your dick in your hand instead of hanging between your legs.”
“Right, wanna tell me what’s going on with you two?”
I casually lift my shoulder. “I've known her since high school.”
It’s not a lie, but I still swallow away the acid taste it forms in my mouth.
“Oh, you don’t just know her. You know her.” He rubs his hands together, loving this way too much.
“What does that even mean?” I roll my eyes as I get up.
“This is gonna be fun.” He snickers.
I make my way back to the elevator, while fuckboy is on my heels like a puppy. All eager and annoying without the cute fluff. “Let me guess, high school sweetheart? Popped your cherry at prom?”
“Just fucking drop it.” Sighing, I push the down button as anger tightens my chest.
The last thing I want to do is rehash all the thoughts I’ve been trying to forget for months. I was fine, pushed it all effectively to the back of my head, compartmentalized it in a vault, and it’s been silent.
But now I can feel it slamming against the steel door, ready to break free.
“What? No. This is fucking live entertainment!”
Fuck him. Fuck her . Fuck this. I’m not one to give up, but Ford dissecting every inch of this fucked-up situation just makes me want to scream. I’m not going to do this for weeks. Trying to fix Ford’s reputation is a challenge enough, I can’t do it beside her . Anyone but her.
“Wait downstairs. I’ll be down in a sec.” I step back out, refusing to wait before this explodes in my face.
“Where are you going?”
“To demand a new consultant.” One who doesn’t torture me by existing.
“Damn, Jason. That bad, huh?” He whistles as the doors close. “What did the girl ever do to you?”
“Fell in love with my brother,” I answer, just in time to watch his eyes grow wide before he descends.