7. LYRA
LYRA
H unter Cole can go and fuck himself. Preferably in traffic.
God, I’ve never been so irritated in my life.
Who the hell does he think he is showing up at Black Velvet like that? Last week, he left me pissed off, but after the stunt he just pulled, I’m fucking furious.
I shove my apartment door closed behind me before kicking off my shoes hard enough that one of them bounces off the wall and nearly takes out one of my potted plants. And honestly, if the plant dies, that’ll be on Hunter too.
Arrogant asshole.
The man just strolled through my bar, looking all perfectly dangerous with that black jacket and those broad shoulders, and all I could think about was setting his stupid face on fire.
And to think he showed up with the audacity to think I was going to drop to my knees, get all stupid for him, and let him whisk me away for another ridiculous date.
Is he insane? They have special asylums for people who live in delusion.
As if I would go for round two with him after he left me at that bar anyway. I have so much more self-respect than that. Well, excluding the times where I allow perfect strangers to throw me up against brick walls in dark alleys, but that has no relation to this.
And for what it’s worth, that was the worst apology I’ve ever heard.
Who approaches a woman they screwed over like that?
Oh hey, I know I fucked up, but let me have another crack at it.
Maybe I could ditch you in the middle of a theatre this time.
Whatdaya say, babe? How about a little BJ for my effort, princess?
Really suck it good, but after I come in your mouth, I’m out.
You owe me that much for taking you out twice.
Get all the way fucked. I’ve dated men like that before, and they have never, ever been worth my time. And Hunter Cole, he’s no different. I won’t waste my time on him again, but something tells me he’s not nearly done pissing me off.
Marcus and Dean are going to get one hell of a stern talking to for letting that fuck-nugget back through my door, and when I’m done with them, they’ll know exactly what would happen if that walking STD sets foot in my bar again.
Damn it.
I huff and puff as I storm through my apartment, unable to find any semblance of peace. It’s not Marcus and Dean’s fault. They’re good guys. I’m sure they had good intentions, but still, I’ll have to lay down the law when it comes to Hunter fucking Cole.
My irritation becomes irrational, and I throw myself across my couch.
It’s well after four in the morning, and if anything, I should be heading into the bathroom, taking a hot shower, and then sending my ass to bed.
Yet if I were to get into the shower right now, all I’m going to do is scream at the wall until the neighbors file noise complaints.
Instead, I doom scroll, searching for something that could hold my attention just long enough to pull me out of this Hunter Cole-induced madness.
I go over the latest breaking news, which seems to be something new every fifteen minutes, then I catch up on the real juicy stuff.
Reddit stories. That right there is my lifeblood.
I start with a story about a girl who’s crying over her boyfriend who’s about to do hard time behind bars.
Probably one of Hunter’s friends. And then I deep dive into a story about a man who thinks his wife is secretly poisoning him while also screwing his boss who happens to be his estranged brother.
I’m just getting to the good parts when my phone buzzes with a new text, and I let out a sigh before exiting out of the app and finding my texts.
The only messages I ever get this late are work related. It’s either Marcus or Dean making sure I got home okay, or it’s one of my closing bar staff letting me know if there were any problems.
Instead, I find an unknown number, and my eyes narrow with suspicion as I open the text and quickly glance over it.
Unknown: Can’t stop thinking about me, can you?
What the fuck?
I was expecting a lot of things, but not this.
It’s obviously not Marcus or Dean, and it’s definitely not any of the girls, which only leaves one option—Maddox Blake.
I’d stupidly given him my number after he very thoroughly railed me down on the street the other night, and it was everything, until now.
I thought he knew the deal. I wasn’t interested in seconds. Despite what I might have led Hunter to believe tonight, I’m not looking for anything with this guy. He was a one-and-done, no matter how earth-shattering it might have been.
Unknown: Don’t leave me on read, Savage.
I laugh to myself as I type out a quick response, more than happy to spend what’s left of my night screwing with him. God, I’d do just about anything to forget about Hunter right now, and Maddox Blake seems like the perfect distraction . . . again.
Lyra: Who is this?
Unknown: Don’t play games with me. Where do you live? Let me come apologize properly.
Wait . . . what?
I sit upright so fast my head spins. Maddox knows exactly where I live, which means this isn’t him at all.
A chill sails through my bones, and as I read over the messages again, I realize there’s only one other asshole who calls me Savage—Hunter fucking Cole. But how the hell did he get this number?
Unless he was doing something in my bar that he wasn’t supposed to be doing.
After all, I didn’t exactly keep my eye on him after I gave him that verbal smackdown.
I figured he’d run away like a little bitch to lick his wounds.
If he had somehow managed to get into the back office, it’s absolutely plausible that he could have found my details that way.
And if that’s the case, that’s more than fucked up, and I should probably watch my back around this guy.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I stare at the screen. Who the fuck does shit like that?
And why the hell am I finding it kinda charming?
I know he’s a little fucked up, and a certifiable red flag, but it’s kinda hot that he would go that far to talk to me.
And yes, I’m completely aware of how stupid that sounds, and that only makes me hate him more than I already do.
I just wish he wasn’t so absolutely gorgeous.
It makes resisting his insanity really goddamn hard.
Lyra: Delete my number, asshole.
Lyra: Better yet, how the fuck did you get it? I sure as hell never gave it to you.
Hunter: Come on, Savage. Put those claws away.
Lyra: You’re a psychopath.
Hunter: I thought we already established that.
Shit. I was just joking when I called him a psychopath when we first met, but every encounter with him makes me wonder if maybe I was right all along.
I don’t respond, just glare at my phone. There has to be a way for me to work this bastard out of my system.
This was supposed to be my time to cool down, but now I’m just getting worked up all over again. God, I hate him.
Hunter: What’d I say about leaving me on read?
Hunter: I like you, Lyra. What’s it gonna take for you to march that perfect ass back out and have a good night with me? I’m not working tonight. Promise, no interruptions.
Lyra: I’m not interested in your brand of insanity. Give up. It’s not gonna happen.
Hunter: That’d be a tragedy, Savage.
I put my phone down, unable to look away from the screen. That fire he ignited in me last week is back in full force, and my thighs clench at just the thought. God, why the fuck am I so desperate for a man like that?
My hands twitch on my lap, desperate to give in, to just tell him exactly where I am so he can finish this once and for all, but I won’t stoop to that level. Hunter Cole will never get the satisfaction of fucking me.
Damn it.
I throw myself to my feet and immediately pace the floor in front of my coffee table.
I hate how worked up I am. I hate how stupid this man is making me.
I shouldn’t be hung up on him like this.
It was one really awesome date that had a terrible ending.
I should be able to get over it and move on, yet here I am, stomping through my apartment like a crazed maniac.
He had no right to turn me into this. He left halfway through our date and disappeared for a week, then he shows up during my shift and demands a second chance like I owe him . A guy like that doesn’t deserve to occupy so much space inside my head.
I need out. I need alcohol. I need a bad decision, and I have just the bad decision in mind.
My gaze shifts to my camera sitting all alone on my kitchen counter, and my plan is already in motion before I slide my shoes back on, grab my phone, and sling my camera strap over one shoulder. I fly out the door and straight across the hallway to the lonely door that sits at the very end.
Maddox Blake.
Now, I know this is his friend’s place, but what have I got to lose? Maddox is either here or he’s not, and if not . . . I don’t actually know. I’m making it up as I go.
My knuckles rap against the door like I’m here to collect a debt, and I wait three painful seconds before the door finally swings open and my gaze collides with the most infuriating man I have ever met.
Maddox Blake.
Damn, he’s a super snack.
He stands before me in a pair of dark sweats with a white shirt stretched around his strong frame, that dirty blond hair slightly ruffled as though he’d either just run his hands through it or he’d been fast asleep.
But judging by the sharpness in his hazel eyes and the way he’s already eating me alive, I doubt my presence is a problem.
A cocky grin slowly stretches across his handsome face, and for just a moment, Hunter Cole is nothing but a figment of my imagination, and honestly, that’s more dangerous than it has any business being.
“Well, shit,” he says, propping his shoulder against the doorframe. “Look who came crawling back for more.”
I roll my eyes so hard that if I were properly paying attention, I’m sure I would have seen my own brain. “That’s not what this is.”
He shakes his head. “Uh-uh. You don’t get to show up here at four in the morning and claim this is gonna be anything different.”
“Maddox,” I warn.
He drops his gaze to my camera and his brow arches. “Shit, Savage. I didn’t take you for that kinda girl, but I’m down if you are.” He opens the door wider as if inviting me in. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
I groan and fix him with a hard stare. “You are unbearable, you know that, right?” I say. “I’m not here to make a sex tape with you. Though . . . that does sound kinda fun.”
His brow arches, and he watches me for just a second, creeping closer toward me as his muscles flex. My gaze is drawn back to his chest, reminding me just how good it felt to be pressed against it while he slammed into me over and over again.
“So, if you’re not here to make a sex tape, then what are you doing here? Come to confess that you can’t live without me, that you finally realized we truly are soulmates, or you need help burying a body?”
I grin as my gaze shamelessly continues working its way over his body. “Still deciding.”
“Take all the time you need, Savage.”
I groan. “I think you’re gonna have to come up with a new nickname.”
“No can do.”
Shit.
I gently exhale, trying to remember why I’m here. “You ummm . . . Are you doing anything?”
“Depends,” he says, that rich stare sailing over my face and dropping to my lips as though resisting me is just as hard as I’m finding resisting him. “Is this the part where you admit you haven’t been able to stop thinking about me?”
He’s got me there.
“I, umm . . .”
Something shifts in his stare, and he pushes off the doorframe and steps right into me, his hand snaking around my waist and pulling me in against him. “What’s wrong, Lyra? You don’t strike me as the type to give in this quickly.”
My hand rests against his chest, and I meet his stare before letting out a breath and giving it to him straight.
“I need a distraction,” I tell him. “I’m .
. . angry. I had a shit night, and I’m two seconds away from responding to a text that I know I should just delete.
It’s got me all worked up, and if I’m not careful, I’ll probably commit a felony and get myself arrested. ”
Maddox grins. “Now we’re talking.”
I roll my eyes and pull out of his hold, needing just a lick of space. “Take me out. I don’t care where. Just . . . be my distraction.”
There’s a beat of silence between us before Maddox hooks his thumb around and points to himself. “Me?”
I huff. “Yes, you idiot.”
“Just making sure I heard you right.”
I roll my eyes and go to inch toward the open door. “Maybe I should ask someone else. Is your friend here?”
“Woah, Savage. No need to be hasty,” he says. “Give me two seconds, and I’m all yours.”
He disappears back into the apartment, and I watch from the front door as he hurries down the hall. A second later, he appears in a pair of dark pants while pulling on a leather jacket. “Yo,” he calls out to his friend. “I’m heading out. Catch ya, later.”
Maddox doesn’t wait for a response before he collects his helmet off the coffee table and strides out the door.
“Whatcha waiting for?” he says, indicating for me to get moving, and I do just that, more than ready for one hell of a messy night. “You know, you showing up like this and demanding I take you out is going to inflate my ego.”
We walk down the hall, and I press the call button for the elevator as I glance up at him, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Oh, I’m painfully aware.”
Maddox grins, and as the elevator doors roll open, he grasps the back of my neck.
“Come on, Savage,” he rasps, leading me into the elevator.
Then as the doors close behind us, he presses me against the cool wall, his lips crushing down on mine, devouring every inch of my mouth as Hunter Cole’s text sits on read.