Wyatt shrugs and starts peeling an orange. “If you say so.”
My family’s a bit messed up for a bunch of reasons, and I’m not very happy with the fact that my half brothers are currently suing my dad for allegedly stealing money from them. I’m not happy with the fact that Matthew bought the Long Beach Golden Eagles as a way to get back at my dad for allegedly stealing their money. And I’m not happy with the fact that Matthew stole Mark from us. Mark was the Condors’ coach until Matthew hired him. (I say “us” because even though I don’t actually work for the Condors, I do run the Condors Foundation.)
I can criticize my family, but if anyone else does, I’m coming for them. “You’re just pissed because he punched you in the face at Théo’s wedding.”
My family’s messed up, remember?
“I was trying to help, for Chrissakes,” he says, rubbing his jaw as if it still hurts five months later. “He didn’t need to do that.” He holds up the peeled orange to me, offering it.
I reach for it. “Thanks.” I break it apart. “I don’t think he meant to hit you,” I add begrudgingly. There was a bit of a brawl on the dance floor and Wyatt had intervened. I wasn’t a fan of Wyatt’s even then, but he didn’t deserve to get whacked in the face.
“Yeah, I know, he told me that.” He shakes his head. “Your family is something else.”
My defenses go on alert again. Can’t really dispute that statement, though, much as I enjoy arguing with Wyatt.
“It’s been entertaining since Théo moved in here,” he adds.
“Glad you find my family entertaining.” Théo is my nephew; JP’s brother. Théo is also Wyatt’s boss. Oh my God.
He laughs. “I’m not dissing your family, hot stuff.”
My eyes fly open. “Hot stuff?”
He leans on the counter, opposite me. “Oh yeah. I always suspected you were hot stuff under that snooty, arrogant front.”
My jaw slackens. I blink. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Finally, I manage to screech, “Snooty? Arrogant?”
He lifts one big shoulder. “You’re Princess Wynn, right?”
My eyeballs are no longer in danger of bleeding, they’re in danger of popping out and bouncing across the counter. I jump off the stool. “Princess Wynn? Are you fucking kidding me?”
The corners of his mouth lift. “See? Hot stuff. After last night macking down on my bed, I have no doubts about that.”
“Aaaargh!” My fingers curl into my palms. “You are...you’rearrogant, too!”
“Good comeback.” He finishes peeling another orange. “I’m disappointed, hot stuff.”
Heat rises inside me, and now I splay my fingers out at my sides. “You’re just a party-loving, woman-chasing... jock.”
Oh my God. My entire family is jocks. As if that’s the best insult I can come up with.
I blame the hangover.
He laughs softly. “Hmm. We disagree. What a surprise, princess. How about we settle this like adults... in the bedroom.” He cocks an eyebrow, smirking.
I suck in a fast breath and my cheeks flame. “Oh my God. Princess...” Heat boils inside me. “You... you have no idea.” I don’t finish that thought, just grab my purse and stalk away from him toward the door. Luckily my shoes are there—black stiletto heels I wore to the party last night.
“Thanks for the breakfast,” I call over my shoulder through clenched teeth. I may hate him, but I was raised to be polite.
“You’re welcome.”
I jump, because he’s followed me to the door.
“And for the Advil,” I grudgingly say. “And... a place to sleep.”
“Next time... we’ll do more than sleep.” He leans in closer, lips curved in a sexy smile.
God. I haven’t brushed my teeth. I probably smell like a winery and look even worse. He is not going to kiss me. Much as I might like that... because he looks amazing, and I know he tastes amazing and feels even better... “Yeah, that’s gonna happen...never.”
He chuckles again.
I make my escape. Yes, I am a living clichéd walk of shame, in my short, tight party dress and heels, making my way to my car parked a couple of blocks away on Pacific Avenue. I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, it’s just an expression. Except I am a tad mortified that I succumbed to Wyatt Bell’s sexy appeal last night and let him feel my boobs and kiss me until I couldn’t breathe.
Arrogant. Snooty. Oh my God. My teeth grind together as a stalk down the street.
Princess Wynn. He has no idea.
Win Big
