Page 53 of Can't Get Enough

I summon a neutral smile that doesn’t telegraph any of thedamn you look goodthoughts running through my mind. Standing tall in a black discreetly Gucci T-shirt that molds his powerful chest and biceps, dark jeans, and vintage J’s, the man is gasp-worthy. It’s not even how expensive he looks and smells. There’s a magnetic field beneath that layer of class and sophistication that I have trouble resisting.

“Good to see you, too, Maverick. Thanks for the invitation.” I gesture to my two friends. “You remember Chapel, of course. And my assistant, Skipper.”

“This suite is amazing.” Chapel inspects the luxurious leather seats,the well-appointed bar and bartender, the gourmet buffet. “You do it up, huh? Thanks for putting us on.”

“It’s good to have company,” Maverick replies with an easy smile. “People have been coming and going all night.”

“Who you pulling for?” Chapel asks.

“The Vipers. My dad worked with them for years so I grew up a fan.” He turns to the man at the plexiglass. “Hey, Pop, come meet some friends.”

Maverick’s father isn’t exactly a carbon copy of his son, but the resemblance is unmistakable. I tip my head back to meet his eyes, the same dark, microscopic-strength stare his son locks on you, though there is something distracted in his demeanor. Like it’s a habit to assess people, but he can barely be bothered anymore. Not rude, just like his mind is half somewhere else.

“Chris Bell,” he says, evenly dividing a smile between Chapel, Skipper, and me.

After Maverick introduces us, his father makes a few minutes of small talk before walking back over to the plexiglass. It looks like the third quarter is getting underway, and Chris Bell watches with the air of a sentry on guard.

“Ladies, help yourself to anything you see,” Maverick says. His gaze drifts to Bolt, who has made himself scarce and is standing by the bar. “I dare you to stump the bartender. He knows every drink you can imagine and some you’ve never heard of.”

“I’d love to test that theory,” Chapel says. “Let’s get our drink on, Skipper.”

Skipper eyes Bolt at the bar for a second before lifting her chin in a defiant angle and nods. “Pour it up.”

As soon as she reaches the bar, she and Bolt glare at each other for a few seconds. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but judging by the growing surprise and then fascination on Chapel’s face, they’re insulting each other in some angry, arousing ritual like what we witnessed at the showcase.

“Told you it’d be fun,” Maverick whispers to me.

My lips twitch, but I refuse to let my full smile out.

“They’re still in the room,” I tell him. “So maybe they’ll be able to resist the weird urge to smash within a minute of seeing each other.”

“I kinda hope they can’t. I never have anything to tease Bolt about.”

“Is he like your right-hand man?”

“Something like that.” He shrugs.

“He seems…” I glance over to the bar where Bolt and Skipper are still snapping at each other, but now with mere inches separating their faces. “Intense.”

“Not usually quite that intense, but your assistant brings out the worst, or at least the weird, in him.”

Chapel’s eyes bounce between them like she’s watching a tennis match.

“I should go rescue Chapel,” I say. “She has no idea how odd things could become in the next two minutes.”

“And you need a drink,” he agrees, walking with me toward the bar. By the time we reach them, Bolt is grabbing Skipper’s hand and dragging her from the suite, puffs of furious smoke practically coming off them both.

Maverick looks at me meaningfully withI told you soeyes.

“Okay, yes,” I laugh. “You were right.”

“What the hell did I just witness?” Chapel asks, looking toward the door that slammed behind Skipper and Bolt. “That was maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen that I didn’t have to pay for.”

“Unfortunately,” I say, “we had a front-row seat for… that… the first time they met at the Aspire showcase.”

“I wasn’t sure if it would be as… that,” Maverick gestures toward the door they just used to exit, “as last time, but it was.”

“So they met where?” Chapel asks, a smile on her face even as her brows pinch the tiniest bit.

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