Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) Page 5

  The boy nods and takes a step forward, looking right at me. “This is for you, from Mr. Brooks.” He reaches across the aisle and hands me a small white box.

  “Omigod, what are you waiting for? Open it already,” Lyndsey shouts.

  I try my hardest to suppress a smile, when I see four of the most beautifully decorated cupcakes hand frosted a vibrant purple and sculpted to resemble a rose. A little yellow sticky is stuck on the inside of the box in his messy handwriting that says, Swooned yet?

  “Omigod! He sent you cupcakes? How sweet is that?” Lyndsey shrieks.

  And as much as I want to admit I am more than swooned, I will never give him the satisfaction. A guy like Cash is used to getting his way using his money and charm to make all the right moves and says all the right things. Tonight is supposed to be professional business interaction so I can get him to back off of Theo. Not an attempt to sneakily win me over.

  I politely close the box, when the boy pipes up again. “These are for you too.”

  He reaches over a few fans, handing me four VIP passes to the team party happening after the game in the Bruisers Bar.

  I shake my head. “I can’t accept these.”

  I know the hockey world well enough to know that the girls invited to these after-parties are there for one reason and one reason only—to be passed around for after-game sex.

  I glare at Cash sneakily watching me from the bench and then turn to face the young boy. “Please send my regrets to Mr. Brooks and have these returned to him.”

  “What are they?” Olivia asks.

  “Oh no you don’t!” Lyndsey shrieks, yanking the passes out of my hand.

  From my peripheral vision I see the muscles in his neck tense and tighten from the bench.

  “Brooks! Get ready!” Coach Bartley shouts, snapping his attention back to the game. He looks at me one last time, nostrils flaring, before he breaks onto the ice.

  “Are you nuts, Lyndsey? Dad would freak if he found out we went to the team after party. It’s puck bunny central. I can’t go there tonight and then expect to have a working relationship with these guys’ tomorrow. Not one of them will respect me or take me seriously. It’s a bad idea,” I snatch the VIP passes out of her hand.

  “You don’t have to go. We will.” Vaughn laughs, tugging the passes free from my trembling fingers. “I could use some hockey cock tonight. I was already eyeing up number eleven.”

  “That’s disgusting, Vaughn. Don’t you have any respect for yourself? You do know what this party is all about?” I ask, flabbergasted.

  “Yeah, and that’s exactly why I want to go,” she says. “A girl’s got to have some fun too.”

  “Fine, you and Lyndsey can go and disrespect yourselves. I’ll catch a cab home with Olivia,” I say, looking over at her for support.

  Olivia winces. “Actually, I think I want to go too.”

  “Ha. Ha. Looks like you’re out numbered, Quinn,” Lyndsey says in a singsong voice. “Besides, aren’t you even a little bit curious? I’ve asked Louis a million times to get me into a post-game party and he always tells me no.”

  I shake my head not at all surprised that Louis wouldn’t invite the new President’s twenty-one-year-old daughter he clearly has a crush on, to attend one of these parties.

  Louis is a true gentleman, unlike Mr. Brooks.

  “That’s because Louis likes you, and the last thing he wants is for you to get drunk and taken advantage of by every single player on the team,” I remind her.

  “So what? Cash totally wants to fuck you and he’s letting you know it! That’s so hot. Stop being so uptight and let loose for once,” Lyndsey says.

  “Are you going to take them?” the young boy shouts over the rumblings of the crowd. “I kind of have to let Mr. Brooks know if he can be expecting you.”

  I look over at Lyndsey, batting her big brown eyes and giving me one of her charming little pouts. I roll my eyes. “Fine, I’ll go. But you owe me, Lyndsey Ashby.”

  “Yes!” Lyndsey shouts looking up at the young boy still waiting patiently on the steps. “We’re keeping them. You can tell Mr. Brooks not to worry; his precious Quinn will be there.”

  During the rest of the game, every time he scores a goal (two more to be exact, getting that promised hat trick) or finds his way into the penalty box after a fight, he never forgets to look my way and give me one of his smug smiles.

  By the time the buzzer ending the third period ricochets into the rafters, the crowd goes wild celebrating the Bruisers first shutout this season with their 4 -0 win, when I hear a deep male voice say, “Miss Ashby?”

  Now what?

  I turn my head to see a tall and lanky man dressed in a black pinstripe suit. He stands firmly on the concrete step, staring down our row while the crowd fumbles around him, leaving the arena. He looks like he is in his mid-thirties, his copper hair short and spiky.

  “Mr. Brooks asked that I escort you and your friends to the VIP area,” he says with a half-smile.

  “Excuse me? Who are you?” I ask.

  Taking a step forward he says, “I’m Terry Young. I’m Cash’s agent’s executive assistant. Now, if you’ll please follow me…”

  Lyndsey pushes past me. “Omigod, Cash is amazing. Does he always send you to escort his ladies to the team after party?”

  Terry shakes his head with a laugh. “No, this is my first. He normally doesn’t have to worry much about the women he selects not showing up for him.”

  Rolling my eyes, I follow behind my sister and her two giggling girlfriends.

  Following Terry along the gray corridors, we hook a left into a closed off section leading us a few more feet over to the private access elevator. He smiles back at the four of us, and swipes his key card letting the stainless steel doors slide open.

  Walking through the doors of the Bruisers Bar, I feel like I stepped into the Playboy mansion. The bar is dimly lit with lights emulating a soft red glow. There are tons of girls inappropriately dressed, in barley-there outfits and abnormally high heels. Everyone is holding glass tumblers, filled with either a dark or clear liquid, and chatting over the music that some of the drunker girls are dancing to.

  Once Terry leads us over to the bar, I look down at my ballet flats, skinny jeans, paisley scarf and scowl. I am so underdressed. Even the men here are formally dressed in expensive three-piece suits. Vaughn must notice my discomfort because she drapes her arm around my shoulders. “It’s your own fault, Quinny. A lady’s number one rule—never leave the house without a pair of heels.”

  I roll my eyes and whisper, “Well, I didn’t think I’d end up at a high-class brothel after the game.”

  Terry turns around from leaning against the bar. “Ladies, please wait here while I escort Miss Ashby to Mr. Brooks.”

  Lyndsey pipes in with, “Of course, no problem.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I say. I don’t trust myself all alone against those sexy dimples. I’m not going anywhere.

  “But Mr. Brooks specifically—”

  “No, Terry. I’m fine here, thank you.”

  “But Miss Ashby—”

  “I said I’m fine here with my friends. Thank you.”

  “Okay, I will let Mr. Brooks know,” Terry replies, before heading into the crowd.

  “What is wrong with you?” Lyndsey hisses once Terry is out of sight. “This is Cash fucking Brooks! How many times to do I have to say it?”

  “Exactly, and flocking to him like he’s some sort of God is exactly what he’s expecting. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.”

  The girls happily chat and sip their drinks, ogling the players as they funnel into the party from the back door. I zone out of their conversation, letting my nerves take over. Even though I sounded strong and sure of myself in front of the girls, inside I am a wreck, because I have no idea how I will react once I see him. During the game, it was easy to keep my cool. The glass that separated us made me feel safe and in control from his gorgeous grin. But now, a
t this party, I’ve made myself vulnerable to his incessant charm.

  I am about to take a sip from my drink when I see him. His back is to me, his wavy honey hair luscious and slick. He is wearing a dark grey, extra slim fit three piece-suit that hugs his athletic physique. His pants tighten perfectly around his behind and show off his insanely muscular ass.

  He shifts to the side, revealing why his arrogant grin is so big. My heart stops, seeing two tiny blondes huddled together, gawking up at him. One of them is in a tight blue dress, golden curls flowing past her fake breasts and the other is wearing stripper heels, running her hand down his chest, dipping lower, suggestively.

  My lips twitch with jealously, watching him stroke his scruffy chin, before he leans forward and whispers something in the girl wearing the blue dresses’ ear. She giggles and looks over at her friend, batting her long mascara filled lashes at Cash the whole time.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Louis’s angry voice turns my attention from Cash and back to the girls.

  Lyndsey straightens up a bit. “Cash invited us.”

  “What? Seriously?” Louis shakes his head. “You really shouldn’t be here, Lynds.” He takes a sip form his drink and nods at me. “And neither should you.”

  Before I can even respond, two strong hands cup my shoulders, pulling me into a hard warm chest. “Hey, Quinn,” a voice whispers in my ear. I slowly turn around to see Viktor smiling down at me. “What a nice surprise. I thought I’d have to wait until the next team event before I saw you again.”

  Leaning against the bar, Louis swirls around the ice cubes in his drink, staring at Lyndsey and her cleavage. “Does your dad know you’re here?”

  “I don’t see why he’d care,” Lyndsey says, lifting her chin at him.

  “You know this isn’t a place for girls like you.”

  Lyndsey scowls and pushes his head back with the palm of her hand. Louis’s brow furrows and he straightens his tie.

  “Who are your friends?” Viktor interrupts, shifting his eyes between Vaughn and Olivia.

  “This is Vaughn and this is Olivia,” I say.

  Viktor leans forward and shakes their hands, introducing himself, then he shifts his gaze back to me. “You look really cute by the way.”

  “Cute?” I laugh uncomfortably. “I’m a little underdressed, don’t you think?”

  Viktor shakes his head. “You don’t have to dress like that, to look amazing.” He motions at the two blondes hanging off of Cash’s arm.

  In that instant, our eyes meet across the room and he smiles, such an arrogant pompous ass smile. His gaze shifts to Viktor and his hands around my waist. His eyes flicker with a possessive intensity, and his smile quickly fades to a fine line. He shakes the girls clean from his arms, and they both gasp and pout. He rolls his shoulders, clenching his jaw and stalks over in my direction.

  He stops in front of me, staring at me in silence. A rush of arousal courses through my veins when I see the want in his eyes. Viktor’s hands drop from my waist and he takes a step back.

  “Where’s Terry?” Cash asks.

  “Looking for you,” I say as sweetly as possible.

  Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “Then why didn’t he bring you to me like I asked?”

  “Because I’m not a prize, and I refuse to be treated like one.”

  In one swift motion Cash scoops me up in his arms. Grinning, he carries me through the crowd.

  “Put me down!” I hiss as Lyndsey and everyone else, all stare, dumbfounded.

  My body pulses from being bound in his arms. I inhale his delicious scent, furious that he’s able to affect me like this. I can feel every pair of female eyes burning into me. I hear jealous whispers when he finally puts me down on a sofa and slides in next to me.

  “Are you nuts?” I ask, shoving a few stray curls out of my face.

  He sits, his hands tented in front of him. “What’s going on with Viktor?” he asks.

  “Like you, he’s just a player on the team.”

  Cash smiles one of his mouthwatering grins, assessing me, his eyes gliding down my body. I inhale a sharp breath, when he leans forward placing his mouth inches away from mine. “Good. Because I don’t share.”

  A shiver moves through me, and I become tongue tied when I feel his thumb slowly running along my cheek.

  He locks eyes with mine and cocks a brow. “Did you enjoy the game?”

  “It was alright.”

  “Did see my three goals?”

  “Yeah, I saw them.”

  “And?” he drawls.

  “And what?”

  He wraps one of my curls around his finger. “And what did you think?”

  I shrug, not wanting to boost his already humongous ego. “Not much. That’s the point of the game, isn’t it? To score goals.”

  He looks aghast at my response. “Yeah, but it’s not every day that someone scores a hat trick.”

  I shrug. “It was mildly entertaining. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  He clears his throat, leaning in closer. “A deal’s a deal, Mittens. Tell me, do you like Italian or Mexican?”

  “Men?” I ask, knowing exactly what he is referring to.

  “Come on, Mittens. Don’t act like you’ve forgotten our little agreement. You said if I scored a hat trick, you’d let me take you out for dinner.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You mean a business dinner?”

  “No.” He shakes his head, bringing his eyes in line with mine. “A dinner where I get to know the real Quinn Ashby.”

  Before I can even respond, I spot three girls, no older than me, standing in a trio to the left of him. The first brunette slowly crawls up against his side and covers his eyes with her hands. She leans forward and coos in his ear. “Guess who…”

  He grabs her hands and flips her around into his lap. Her high-pitched giggling makes me want to gag. The other two girls—a second brunette and a tiny redhead—slide their behinds onto the coffee table in front of the sofa, smiling coyly at Cash.

  “Angela, can’t you see that I’m busy right now?” He places the first brunette on her feet.

  “With her?” she coos, straightening out her dress. “Come on, Cash, don’t be like that. I’ve been waiting for you all night.” Her voice is so sweet it could be liquid sugar.

  Cash looks even sexier as he shifts on the sofa, grinning and relaxed. The bar lights slant across his face and illuminate his flawless skin “Why don’t you get me a drink?” he asks Angela. “The usual.”

  The redhead moves behind him. Propped on the sofa’s back, she massages his shoulders. The second brunette straddles his groin as Angela toddles off to the bar in her stripper heels to do his bidding. She flips her hair and smiles back at Cash and her puck-bunny friends.

  I scoot to the far end of the sofa. Watching these girls paw him reminds me that there is no way I’d ever want to be drawn into this lifestyle. These girls confirm why I’m right to keep my distance from Cash Brooks.

  Confusion clouds his face when I stand and say, “See ya.”

  I turn my back and march for the elevator. I don’t stop until I step out into the cool night air.

  Coming here was a big mistake, for more than one reason. Everywhere I see Cash, it’s like watching a soft-core porno. I know he doesn’t owe me any explanations, but the man is really messing with my head. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before, and this whole unexpected lusting after him bit is really screwing with my hormones. It is so unlike me.

  I raise my hand to hail a cab. When it pulls up to the curb, I open the door, relieved the night is almost over.

  In one strong, fluid motion, I am yanked backward and the taxi door is slammed shut. Cash spins me around, pinning me against the cab. “You can’t leave yet.” His hard warm body cages me, and all I can smell is him, a sultry sexy him.

  When his thumb brushes against my lips, I let out a breath. “Yes. I. Can. Now get your hands off me.”

  He takes a step
back, and I scoot away from him as far as my body will allow, pressing against the passenger door of the taxi.

  “One of these days, you will be begging me to touch you.” He flashes his patented dimpled smile, but he’s watching each heavy breath I take, as if he’s trying to figure me out.

  “I’m serious, Brooks. I’m not like those girls who were all over you tonight.”

  “I know. You’re feisty, impossible and downright sexy. You’re nothing like any girl I’ve ever met.” He moves closer and trails his fingertips up my arm.

  Damn him. I hate the way his touch ignites and electrifies my skin.

  “Is everything okay?” The cab driver sticks his head out of his window. “Do you still need a ride?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Cash says.

  “Hey man, aren’t you Cash Brooks?” the cab driver asks.

  Cash nods, taking another step away from me.

  “Great game tonight. I was listening to the radio on my shift. A hat trick, huh? If you keep it up, you’ll be back on the Tornados in no time.”

  “Thanks. No cab needed though. I’ll make sure she gets home safely. Have a good night.” Cash smiles back, even though I can feel him watching me from his peripheral vision.

  When the cab driver pulls into oncoming traffic, I sigh, exasperated. “Great. Now I need to call for one. Thanks, Brooks.”

  “Don’t go.” He shakes his head. “I want to get to know you better.”

  “Well, I don’t want to get to know you. You and I are worlds apart.” I say and pull out my phone to call another cab.

  Cash grabs my hand, glaring down at me with his hot blue eyes. “I guarantee we’re more alike than you think.” When I don’t say anything in response, he lets go of my hand, smiling at me with an amused grin. “If you’re going to go, then let me bring you home, not some cab.”

  Was he seriously offering me a ride home? Sure, I wanted to get out of here, but could I really trust myself alone with him? I look up and meet his eyes, which look intently back at me. He looks concerned, even worried that I’d refuse him. His eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them before. It had me second guessing my callous impression of him.