Hard to Take (Denver Kodiaks #2)

1. Brooke

1

brOOKE

S weat. Heat. Longing.

Miles’s hands span my waist. His rough palm across my stomach heats my skin, sparking a thrum of desire that streaks lower as he bends his head between my thighs.

Then all I feel is his tongue.

This man’s fucking tongue teases me, sending jolts of electricity that make me arch against him as my hands fist in the sheets.

“How do I know it’s not fake?”

The woman’s voice over the phone snaps me out of my fantasy. I narrowly avoid tripping on a crack in the curb, my suede knee-high Stuart Weitzman boots saving me from tossing the two coffees stacked and balanced in a gloved hand.

“It’s genuine.” I catch my breath from the near miss. “Last season’s hottest seller. You carry this bag and everyone will notice.”

The woman buying my designer purse considers. “Do you have more pictures of the interior?”

I glance up at a street sign. I’m half a dozen blocks from my destination, so I pull up at a corner and click into my photos.

Vail, the Kappa retreat and my failed attempt to land a brand deal with my sorority sister’s company feel a hundred years rather than one week in the past.

But rent is due and I had to take the gut-wrenching step of starting to sell off my wardrobe.

“Here you go.” I hit Send on an image of the inside of the bag.

My gaze is pulled to the top of my cracked phone screen and one of the pictures Miles and I took on that rooftop when we were pretending to be dating.

He’s behind me, his arms around me, his cheek pressed to mine. It’s not even our closeness but the expression on his face that hits me. His wide grin and the way he holds me tight say I’m everything he wants and he’s never letting me go.

The cold air sticks in my throat.

“Would you take five hundred? It’s not really my color but I could dye it.”

Her request is devastating. At least we’re not on a video call so she can’t see me cringe. “Seven hundred. And if you’re set on dying it, for the love of Gucci, don’t do it yourself. I’ll give you the name of a guy who does customizations.”

We make plans for her to pick it up and I click off moments before I brush through the doors of my friend’s studio, coffees balanced in one hand.

“Hi, beautiful!” Nova rises to greet me. “I’m covered in paint,” she warns.

“Paint is temporary. Friendship is forever.” I hug her before nodding toward her work-in-progress, an abstract swirl of colors.“What’s this?”

“Trying something new.” She accepts the coffee with a grateful hum.

My friend’s career is still on the rise, but she’s best known for more literal images, including the massive installation at the Kodiaks’ arena featuring the starters from last year’s winning team. This is softer and more organic.

“I like it. It’s a whole new Nova.”

She laughs. “Thanks. But let’s not pretend that my latest painting is the most important thing we need to discuss.” Her eyes brighten.“I haven’t seen you all week and you owe me major details. What happened at the retreat?!”

My heart kicks against my ribs as memories rise up without permission.

The way he charmed every Kappa and her date and defended me against my enemies.

The feel of his mouth on mine in the coat closet.

The way he touched me in the bed we were never supposed to share.

“Miles was the perfect boyfriend, in public and private. Right up until he left in the middle of the night.”

Her eyes widen. “He didn’t say anything?”

“A one-sentence note on hotel stationary about sending me a limo and seeing me when I got back to Denver.”

Nova taps her chin. “But you haven’t talked since?”

I shake my head.

When I got back to Denver in the limo Miles sent, it wasn’t my fake boyfriend but my brother who opened the door.

"We need to talk." Jay’s face was determined and a little angry.

"About?” I shifted out, shoving down the emotions ricocheting around my body as he helped me get my bag out of the trunk.

"Mom. She's asking me to do all this stuff for her campaign. Like she doesn't understand that I have a job."

Relief edged in.

Not about Miles.

“How did you handle her when she was like this?" he went on, oblivious.

"I did what she wanted." I headed for the door of my building. Jay trailed me, carrying my suitcase.

In the elevator, and I swiveled to face my brother. "My turn. Did Miles hit Kevin back in college?”

As the doors slid closed, Jay realized he was trapped. Even though he had a few inches on me, I had him pinned with my eyes.

“I was worried about you when I got drafted,” Jay said at last. “I asked him to check on you. I didn’t trust Kevin with you, even before the coke."

The elevator reached my floor and dinged.

I lunged into the hall after my brother. “And that warranted Miles beating the crap out of him?”

Jay stopped and turned to face me. “Miles found out about what Kevin did. He wanted to make sure Kevin stayed away. Think he took it a little far.”

My brother’s admission had my insides twisting.

That was why Miles had shown up back in college, why he had taken me for breakfast, why he had acted as though he cared.

“So you told him to watch my back three years ago.”

Jay frowned. "Might have mentioned it a time or two since."

My heart plummeted.

That was what the entire weekend with Miles at the retreat had been about.

Loyalty between teammates. One friend having another’s back.

It had never been about me.

“The team’s been on the road all week, but they come home tonight.” Nova’s voice brings me back.

The thought has crossed my mind. Miles will be in the same city, and we’ll be back in the same circles. He’s almost painfully accessible.

“There’s no reason for me to talk to him,” I tell Nova as I pick at the edges of my manicure. “My brother asked Miles to keep an eye on me. I was a favor for a teammate. Anything that happened between us was fake. Exactly like it was supposed to be.”

Nova doesn’t look convinced.

My phone buzzes.

Speak of the devil .

“Is that him?” Nova prompts.

“Yes.” Part of me wants to hear his voice, but there’s nothing I need from him. I tuck the phone in in my pocket, letting it go to voicemail.

“I’m over it. He did what I needed him to do. We can go back to?—”

“Looking too long at one another across every room you’re both in? Flirting incessantly? Single-handedly making me want to write fanfic?”

I glare at my friend. “Nothing. We can go back to being nothing.”

I’m not taking any more calls from my brother’s guard dog. Not losing any more sleep on a crush that has lasted longer than my favorite pair of shoes.

At least I’ve made enough to cover my rent for the month.

Nova and I finish our coffee talking about more pleasant topics and I head home.

On my way, I send a text to my landlord to tell him I’ll have my December rent payment to him tomorrow.

A message comes back.

Rent is going up January 1.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”