Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Brody
“ W hoa there,” I said, throwing my hands up like I was facing down a damn grizzly. “Let's pump the brakes on this crazy train before it derails into Clusterfuck Station. I'm all for wild rides, but even I draw the line at accidental marriage or surprise babies. Although, let's be real, our kids would be fucking gorgeous.”
My eyes raked over Avery's body, drinking in every delicious curve while her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and I swear I could see the gears in her head grinding to a halt, probably leaving skid marks on her brain.
“I—what? No, that's not—” she sputtered, looking like she'd just walked in on her parents going at it like rabbits.
“Relax, Spark,” I chuckled, my voice low and rough.
I was getting a kick out of how her cheeks flushed. “I'm just yanking your chain. But seriously, we need to set some boundaries here. I mean, I know I'm irresistible, but you’ll need to find a way to control yourself.”
Even as I said it, I was imagining her hands all over me, those delicate fingers exploring every inch of my body.
I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that elicited a shiver of lust—or maybe it was disgust; it was hard to tell.
“So, how far are we taking this charade? Are we talking hand-holding and longing glances, or are you going to let me show you what these hands can really do?”
I watched with delight as Avery's face turned an impressive shade of crimson that would make a fire truck jealous.
“Jesus Christ, Brody!” she hissed, glancing around as if expecting her imaginary grandma to pop out from behind the jukebox. The way her chest heaved with each breath was doing nothing to calm the tightening in my jeans.
“Keep it in your pants, would you?”
I couldn't help but laugh at her scandalized expression.
“Oh, come on, Spark. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it. I mean, have you seen me?” I gestured to my physique, which, if I did say so myself, looked like it had been carved by horny angels. And I worked hard to keep it that way.
Avery rolled her eyes so hard I was worried they might get stuck that way.
“Yes, I've seen you, Narcissus. And while I'm sure your abs have their own fan club—probably with monthly meetings and a newsletter—we're keeping this strictly professional. So up until those moments when you plan to seduce your followers with your pecs, keep 'em covered.”
The bartender, a gruff man with a salt-and-pepper beard that would make ZZ Top weep with envy, chose that moment to slide another beer in front of me.
I nodded my thanks, taking a long swig as I considered the implications of this challenge.
The beer provided a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind, not to mention the unexpected jolt of disappointment at Avery's “strictly professional” declaration.
It was like being told the all-you-can-eat buffet was actually a look-but-don't-touch situation.
“Alright, alright,” I conceded, setting down my beer. “But what about our individual brands? I can't exactly be conquering mountains and taming wild beasts if I'm supposed to be prancing around on lovey-dovey dates with you.”
My eyes roamed over to her. Fuck, she was like a tame beast that I'd love to make wild.
“Unless…” I trailed off, a wicked gleam in my eye.
Avery's eyebrow arched dangerously, and goddamn if that didn't send a jolt straight to my groin.
“Unless what?” she asked, her tone suggesting that whatever came out of my mouth next better be good or she'd use it to strangle me.
“Unless you're up for some extreme dating,” I grinned. “We could do 'romantic' dinners on cliff faces, maybe couples' skydiving, underwater cave exploration…”
My mind raced with images of Avery in tight climbing gear, her ass perfectly outlined as she scaled a rock face in front of me.
“Nothing says 'I want you' like shared near-death experiences, right?”
To my surprise, Avery didn't immediately shut down my admittedly ridiculous ideas. Instead, she got a look in her eye—one that told me her brain was working overtime, probably cooking up schemes that would make a Bond villain jealous.
“You know,” she said, biting her lip in a way that was far too distracting, “that's not half bad. We could blend our styles, appeal to both our audiences. Your adrenaline junkies and my hopeless romantics.”
“Look at you, Spark,” I said. “You're full of surprises. Here I thought you were just a pretty face with a bit of a potty mouth.”
As Avery outlined some actual ideas for blending our styles, I found myself genuinely impressed by her creativity. I absently traced patterns in the condensation on my beer glass, picturing the potential adventures ahead.
For the first time, I allowed myself to consider the benefits of this arrangement beyond just boosting my follower count and getting to spend time with a woman who could probably kick my ass with her wit and look good doing it.
The dingy bar around us faded into the background as I focused on Avery's words and the tantalizing possibilities they presented. The flickering neon signs and the low hum of conversation from other patrons seemed a world away from the exciting prospect she was laying out.
A moment of raw fucking vulnerability hit me like a sledgehammer to the balls as I mulled over the bullshit of my online persona. I scanned the dingy bar, feeling a sudden disconnect from the larger-than-life image I'd built.
“You know,” I admitted quietly, surprising myself with my uncharacteristic honesty, “maybe this could be good for both of us. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love what I do, but sometimes it feels like I'm just a caricature of myself, you know? Like, 'Oh look, there goes Brody, off to wrestle a kraken while base jumping into an active volcano.' It's exhausting being this much of a badass all the time.”
I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over Avery as I spoke. Christ, even in this shithole bar, the woman looked good enough to eat.
Avery's eyes widened at my admission, but she quickly schooled her features back into professional neutrality. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, probably already planning how to spin this for her article.
But there was something else there too—a flicker of understanding.
“I get it,” she said, her voice gentler. The change in her tone sent a shiver down my spine, making me wonder what other sounds I could coax out of her.
“It's easy to get lost in the persona we create for others,” she continued, oblivious to the effect she was having on me. “Sometimes even I catch myself thinking in hashtags and wondering if my coffee is picture-worthy.”
For a moment, we just looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us.
Then, because I'm me and I can't let a serious moment last too long without turning it into a joke, I grinned and said, “Plus, think of how fucking jealous all your exes will be when they see you globetrotting with this prime cut of man meat.”
Avery snorted, the moment effectively shattered. “And there's the Brody I know and barely tolerate. I was worried for a second there that you'd been body-snatched by an alien with actual feelings.”
“Admit it, Spark,” I teased, leaning in close enough to catch a whiff of her perfume—something cinnamon-y and intoxicating that made me want to bury my face in her neck. “You're starting to like me. I'm growing on you like a very handsome, very charming fungus.”
“I think I’d compare you more to a trip to the dentist,” she shot back, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Painful, inconvenient, and something I'd rather avoid but can't seem to get out of.”
“Oh, Spark,” I said, my voice low and husky. “I can think of much more pleasurable things to do to your mouth.”
Satisfaction overwhelmed me as a blush crept up her neck.
As we finalized the details, my competitive nature kicked in, a familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I leaned forward, a challenging smirk on my face that I knew from experience made women weak in the knees.
“Alright, Avery. You're on. Let’s do the 90-day thing. But don't think for a second that I'm going to make it easy for you. Prepare to have your world turned upside down. And I mean that literally—I hope you're not afraid of heights because our first date might involve rappelling down the side of a skyscraper.”
“We’ll see,” Avery said, her eyes gleaming with excitement and challenge in a way that made my cock twitch with interest. “Just remember, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve too. Hope you're ready for some moments that'll make you question everything you thought you knew about life.”
Jesus Christ, this woman.
“Well, now I'm counting on it, Spark.”
As we clinked our glasses together, sealing our ridiculous pact, I couldn't help but feel that I'd just signed up for the adventure of a lifetime. And looking at Avery's flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, I had a feeling she felt the same way.
This was either going to be the best decision of our lives or a complete fucking disaster.
Knowing my luck, probably both.