Bring The Heat: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Summer Book 1) by KB Winters Page B
Authors: KB Winters
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glass double doors.
Chapter Fourteen
Chelsea
“Can you believe he said that? He doesn’t care when we get married? I mean am I just being delusional about this whole thing, Chels? Am I wasting the best years of my life on some flaky, commitment-phobe?”
I sighed and glanced down at the plate of veggies and artichoke dip between us. As soon as Robby had left the house to leave for his trip to Dallas, she’d called an emergency meeting at one of our favorite cafes, Ruby’s , and while I couldn’t really afford to take the time away from the computer, I pried myself away because of how upset she sounded.
Although now that she’d given me the play-by-play of the argument with Robby, I found myself on his side instead of hers. Not that I was going to tell her that…
“No, Paris. It was one argument. You can’t throw away the entire relationship. Most guys don’t care about the wedding planning. I hardly think Robby is the minority here.”
Paris whined. “I just want him to care. Is that so much to ask?”
I didn’t have the heart to break it to her that I barely cared. At least not about the different paper materials for the invitations, the best place to register for gifts, or whether a dove release was inhumane or not. And I certainly wasn’t holding my breath to see who would win the war between oval vs square tables at the reception hall.
“It’s not. Paris, listen, I know this is a crisis for you, but I promise it’s not that bad. Cody will be back in two days and you can figure it all out.”
“Cody?”
I straightened, realizing my slipup a moment too late. “Damn it.”
Paris laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, well, well. Look who’s got it bad!”
“I meant Robby,” I said, my tone low and grouchy. I dunked a piece of bell pepper into the dip, using it like a chip to scoop out a glob of the artichoke dip. I popped the whole thing in my mouth, sulking while Paris continued to giggle.
“You miss him, huh?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Am not!”
The truth was, I hadn’t been able to get Cody out of my head since the moment we met. I originally thought that if I went to bed with him, it would somehow satisfy my curiosity and allow me to move on—but no—just the opposite occurred. After leaving his hotel, I’d gone straight home and tried to sleep it off but my mind and body kept replaying the carnal delight of being with him. Of feeling like we belonged together instead of just using each other for a night.
And by the afternoon, things hadn’t improved. I was just as hot and bothered as I was the first time we met. The only problem was that this time I couldn’t tell myself that I was simply suffering from an overactive imagination. I knew the truth—the reality of being in Cody’s bed—was even hotter than the way I’d imagined it in my head.
“Then why won’t you tell me what happened after you two scampered off into the night together. After the dinner?” Paris leveled her stare at me.
I cleared my throat, forcing down the bite in my mouth. As much as I didn’t want to listen to Paris continue to rattle on about the wedding plans—or lack thereof—I was even more anxious to avoid talking about Cody and what happened behind closed doors at his hotel suite. “Did you tell Robby about the gardens you were talking about?”
Paris eyed me. “Not so fast, doll. You’re not off the hook yet.”
I blew out a puff of air. “Fine. We hung out…at his hotel…in his room…”
Paris’ grin went from amused to mischievous. “You banged Cody Wright?”
I glanced over my shoulder at the busy, lunchtime crowd inside the small cafe. “Damn, Paris. Why don’t you just hop on the table and use a megaphone!”
She laughed. “How was he?”
I hesitated and worked my bottom lip between my teeth. Paris chuckled. “That good, huh?”
“It was really, really hot and I can’t stop thinking about him.” The confession blasted out of me like a busted
Chapter Fourteen
Chelsea
“Can you believe he said that? He doesn’t care when we get married? I mean am I just being delusional about this whole thing, Chels? Am I wasting the best years of my life on some flaky, commitment-phobe?”
I sighed and glanced down at the plate of veggies and artichoke dip between us. As soon as Robby had left the house to leave for his trip to Dallas, she’d called an emergency meeting at one of our favorite cafes, Ruby’s , and while I couldn’t really afford to take the time away from the computer, I pried myself away because of how upset she sounded.
Although now that she’d given me the play-by-play of the argument with Robby, I found myself on his side instead of hers. Not that I was going to tell her that…
“No, Paris. It was one argument. You can’t throw away the entire relationship. Most guys don’t care about the wedding planning. I hardly think Robby is the minority here.”
Paris whined. “I just want him to care. Is that so much to ask?”
I didn’t have the heart to break it to her that I barely cared. At least not about the different paper materials for the invitations, the best place to register for gifts, or whether a dove release was inhumane or not. And I certainly wasn’t holding my breath to see who would win the war between oval vs square tables at the reception hall.
“It’s not. Paris, listen, I know this is a crisis for you, but I promise it’s not that bad. Cody will be back in two days and you can figure it all out.”
“Cody?”
I straightened, realizing my slipup a moment too late. “Damn it.”
Paris laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, well, well. Look who’s got it bad!”
“I meant Robby,” I said, my tone low and grouchy. I dunked a piece of bell pepper into the dip, using it like a chip to scoop out a glob of the artichoke dip. I popped the whole thing in my mouth, sulking while Paris continued to giggle.
“You miss him, huh?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Am not!”
The truth was, I hadn’t been able to get Cody out of my head since the moment we met. I originally thought that if I went to bed with him, it would somehow satisfy my curiosity and allow me to move on—but no—just the opposite occurred. After leaving his hotel, I’d gone straight home and tried to sleep it off but my mind and body kept replaying the carnal delight of being with him. Of feeling like we belonged together instead of just using each other for a night.
And by the afternoon, things hadn’t improved. I was just as hot and bothered as I was the first time we met. The only problem was that this time I couldn’t tell myself that I was simply suffering from an overactive imagination. I knew the truth—the reality of being in Cody’s bed—was even hotter than the way I’d imagined it in my head.
“Then why won’t you tell me what happened after you two scampered off into the night together. After the dinner?” Paris leveled her stare at me.
I cleared my throat, forcing down the bite in my mouth. As much as I didn’t want to listen to Paris continue to rattle on about the wedding plans—or lack thereof—I was even more anxious to avoid talking about Cody and what happened behind closed doors at his hotel suite. “Did you tell Robby about the gardens you were talking about?”
Paris eyed me. “Not so fast, doll. You’re not off the hook yet.”
I blew out a puff of air. “Fine. We hung out…at his hotel…in his room…”
Paris’ grin went from amused to mischievous. “You banged Cody Wright?”
I glanced over my shoulder at the busy, lunchtime crowd inside the small cafe. “Damn, Paris. Why don’t you just hop on the table and use a megaphone!”
She laughed. “How was he?”
I hesitated and worked my bottom lip between my teeth. Paris chuckled. “That good, huh?”
“It was really, really hot and I can’t stop thinking about him.” The confession blasted out of me like a busted
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