Page 6 of Covet (The Red #3)

Chapter Six

Max

Listen to Sports Car

by Tate McRae

“ C an I get a Maxtini Spritz?”

I glanced at the curvy blonde with the fuck-me blue eyes and paused.

She’d been staring at me for a while, hanging with her friend, and seemed ready to make her move.

I sized her up in seconds. C cup. Juicy ass.

Dyed hair with a touch of dark roots showing.

Full lips—probably some plumper there. Her face was a bit long and horsey, with too much makeup, but she was definitely bangable.

Nothing in Landon’s league but good for a night to have fun and blow off steam.

I waited for the usual jolt of lust to hit my dick but once again, nothing stirred.

Shit . I’d been in trouble since getting dumped. No matter how I wanted to revenge fuck every woman in my sight, my body just wouldn’t get on board. I was cold and numb. I figured it would take me a bit of time to recover but three weeks had passed and still nothing.

I forced a smile and broke my gaze. “Sure thing.”

“You’re Max, right?”

I threw the Triple Sec, pineapple juice, and elderflower liqueur together without measuring and nodded. “That’s me.”

“So, you’re like famous.”

Lime juice, simple syrup, and ice went into the shaker.

“Let’s just say I’m well known,” I said with a wink.

She leaned over the bar and offered a generous glimpse of cleavage.

I poured the cold mixture into a flute, then splashed in Prosecco.

The bubbles rose prettily which was always a show, and she gave a gasp of pleasure.

A sprig of mint and pineapple quarter went on the rim. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” She dropped cash on the bar—a rarity when everyone paid by Apple or credit, and flicked her manicured hand in the air. “Keep the change.”

I nodded my thanks and shot her my usual smile. “Appreciate it.”

“I appreciate you,” she said, dropping her voice. Her gaze touched my biceps, displayed by the tight black shirt, and scanned over my abs. “My name is Josie. Hey, my friend’s having a party close by. Fully stocked.” She licked her lips. “Want to come?”

I opened my mouth to grab the opportunity. I needed to get laid and I’ve had enough of the celibacy grief thing. Landon was gone. She’d betrayed me with asshole Adam and would probably never talk to me again. Time to get on with my life.

“I’m dying to come.”

I put emphasis on the last word and she giggled on cue. “Great. Meet you outside?”

“I get off at 1am.”

“That works. I can’t wait till you...get off, Max.”

I arched my brow at her cleverness and wondered why I wasn’t as enthusiastic as usual. “Can’t wait.”

She scooped up her drink and disappeared into a crowd of laughing females, all grabbing each other and shooting glances back at me.

“Thought you liked the chase.”

I turned. Gabby was behind the bar, obviously catching the entire exchange. I slid the cash off the bar, dumping the tip into the shared jar, and faced her. “Sometimes I want easy.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “That easy? God, she’s boring. No clever quips or making you work for it. Just ordered your famous drink and promises you’ll get off. Your standards are dropping.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She was such a smart-ass and never held back.

Even though I was pissed at her for protecting Landon and Adam’s secret, Gabby seemed to be on her own side.

It was rare I couldn’t peg a woman and what she wanted.

But I still hadn’t figured her out. “Thought my standards were already in the dirt. Might as well be what everyone expects.”

Her lips pursed in thought. I stared. Definitely no filler—just painted sinful red to match her wild hair.

Gabby gave Landon competition for stopping a room mid-sentence.

Men and women automatically gravitated to them with hate, jealousy, or the desire to hook up.

But where Landon was an icy blonde princess, Gabby was all fire and chaos.

She owned a banging body of breasts, hips, and ass, and knew exactly how to dress to highlight all of them.

Right now, she wore an oversize white button-down shirt, black lace bra, and a tiny black skirt.

It gave off vibes of her climbing out of bed and donning her boyfriend’s shirt—which was like fucking kryptonite.

Red gave wide berth to the uniform requirements, as long as it was black and white.

Her face was round, with sexy green eyes, flushed skin, and a smattering of freckles across her nose.

I had been hot for her when we first met. She’d flirted outrageously and turned Landon into a vengeful bitch. Eventually, they had some kind of talk, cleared the air, and Gabby was allowed into our crew. All this time I figured she was fucking Adam, but the joke was on me.

He’d only been fucking my girlfriend.

I shook my head to clear it and held up a finger to a customer who wanted another beer. “Are you still hoping you can get Landon back? Because that’s never gonna happen. They’re in love.”

I screened my face to show no emotion. “Goody for them. You talk to Adam?”

She nodded. “The tour’s going well. They both seem happy.”

“You really want to make me bleed, Gabs?”

She let out a short breath. “No, I want you to face reality. Are we all finally going out Friday night? I think this group needs some hard partying and fun. Everyone’s so damn mopey. I’m bored.”

I laughed again, snapped open a Michelob Ultra, and placed it on the bar. “Sorry for the emotions. Yeah, I’ll be there. Don’t want to miss Noah perform.”

She immediately brightened. “Good. Sorry to bust your balls.”

“No, you’re not.”

Now, she laughed and jerked her head toward the blonde. Josie? Jessie? Whatever. “Save it, Max. A quick fuck won’t make you forget. But I know what will.”

I stopped in the midst of pouring a rum and Coke. Curiosity hit. “Yeah? Wanna tell me the secret? I doubt it’s better than getting laid.”

A strange expression crossed her face. Those green eyes narrowed and I caught a gleam of intensity as she looked at me. As if she had a plan; one she was saving for me.

Immediately, my dick stirred with interest. Now that Landon was gone, was she interested? Or was I imagining all this because I was desperate to get out of this depression?

She closed the distance and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Trust me. What I have to show you will be so much better.”

Then with a wicked smile, she spun on her high heel and disappeared into the crowds.

I went on automatic as the bar grew rowdier with the later hour.

Red was almost impossible to get into on a weekend, but Thursday nights were still packed.

I performed my role; serving drinks, flirting with everyone, joking around with the other bartender to keep the crowd entertained.

I was good at my job, but without Landon, everything fell flat.

I was starting to realize this couldn’t be my main gig anymore. It paid the bills but it wasn’t exciting.

I’d tried to get my modeling kickstarted, but after a few shoots, I had to admit I was done with that, too. I hated the bullshit hours in front of the camera and being treated like a cheap, hired whore. Afterward, I needed a shower and too many drinks to put it in my rearview mirror.

The truth beat beneath the surface in a humiliating reminder.

I was a failure. All this time I acted like a fucking king because I had Landon and my friends around me twenty-four seven. But now it was all gone. I’d been played hard, and I was spinning out. Everyone seemed to have a purpose except me.

Adam and Noah had music.

Elle had acting.

Coop had photography.

Gabby had launched her own fashion business.

I was just a bartender, faking my importance and hiding behind my looks and money.

When it was time to close, I seriously thought about meeting the blonde and getting annihilated. Hell, maybe I’d convince her to do a threesome after we got some drugs and alcohol in our systems. I’d blow off steam, get off, and reset.

Instead, I left through the back door so I didn’t run into her and headed home.

Coop was at Elle’s tonight—I think they were trying to make up after another fight.

I told myself I needed a good night’s sleep and tomorrow would be better.

We’d get the group back together, where we belonged.

I was still the leader, and if I didn’t get my shit together, my makeshift family would also be lost.

The emptiness burned in my gut, along with something darker; something I didn’t want to examine.

I wondered what Gabby was talking about. What could she possibly have for me? At this point, I’d try anything.

Friday. I’d push and find out what it was.

God knows, I needed something to look forward to.

I trudged into my apartment, took a shower, and fell onto the couch. The television blared and I watched soundlessly as my mind raced. If I was done with Red, and modeling, and didn’t want to go back to college, what was my next move? What lit me up inside like my friends?

I scratched my head and laughed. Too bad partying wasn’t a full-time job. Unless I opened up a club, which I had no desire to do. Especially in New York City. The only other place I loved was the gym, where I could rid myself of all those toxins and rage that built up after---

My thoughts stuttered out.

What did I truly excel at? My body and looks.

Shallow? Sure. But working out with Coop at the gym on a daily basis was a critical part of my life.

Besides the energy rush, I felt in control of one lousy thing.

I could make sure every muscle was cut and defined, and that I felt energized and fit.

Keeping in top shape allowed other opportunities, like confidence, modeling shoots, and women.

Fitness . I was meant to take all I knew and open up my own gym.

I was the perfect advertisement and leader. I’d spent my whole life being around people who admired and wanted to be me. I was also a salesman at heart, able to convince anyone to do my bidding. It wasn’t ego, but fact.

But I also knew there were other things I’d need help with, and a partner was key in smoothing out the risk. Immediately, Coop came to mind and soon I was laughing hysterically at the brilliance of my new plan.

We’d open a gym together. Coop was a gym rat at heart, obsessed with health and consistently educating himself on how to make his body better.

Plus, he’d been growing frustrated with photography, and with Elle now chasing her own music dreams, I got the sense Coop needed something more solid to grasp.

What could be more perfect than the two of us making our own fucking dreams come true without waiting for some future opportunity to hit?

Money wasn’t the problem. I had plenty of credit lines, a nice bundle saved, and my parents would be happy to loan me more for the start up. Coop and I could secure a business loan easily for the rest.

Suddenly, I was on fire with possibility. I’d have something more than Red and modeling. I’d be my own boss, make my own money, and prove I could be successful.

On cue, a commercial rolled across the screen for Planet Fitness. Low down payment. Locations everywhere. I watched people work out with big, fake smiles, and immediately envisioned what would really work.

A gym with curated classes and instructors that brought something different.

An old-fashioned, classic muscle room.

A juice bar that worked like a club, allowing nonmembers to hang out and mix. Gyms were dating pools, but the limited inventory became incestuous. With the right social, party vibes it could bring in big money.

I launched from the couch and began to pace. My brain fired on all circuits as my vision crystallized.

Fuck, yes. I’d open a gym. And I’d do it with my best friend.

I reached for the phone and shot out the text. Meet me for breakfast tmrw. Need to talk .

Fifteen minutes later, I got a thumb’s up emoji.

I spent the rest of the night glued to my laptop doing research.