Page 13 of Mad Rivals (The Bradley Legacy #1)

You Think I’m Hot?

We’re walking back to the office, and Madden is far behind in the rearview when Clem asks, “What the hell was that?”

“I’m sorry?” I say it like a question, asking what she’s talking about.

“The heat between you and that man! Whew! It was enough to give me the sweats.”

“That’s just because you’re wearing a sweater like it’s twelve degrees outside, and today is sunny and seventy.”

“I hate Chicago weather,” she mutters. “I was freezing this morning when I chose my outfit, okay?”

I laugh.

“You’re avoiding the question, ma’am,” she points out.

“I know I am.”

“So what’s going on?” she presses.

“God, he’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?” I finally groan.

“Absolutely the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. And he clearly has the hots for you. You should’ve seen the way he was eyeballing your tits when you had lettuce all over them.”

“Maybe he has a thing for lettuce,” I mutter petulantly .

“Or maybe he has a thing for Kennedy. What’s this about your dads? Can we sidestep that and get to the fuckening?”

“The fuckening?” I repeat.

“Yeah, like an awakening and a good fuck at the same time. A fuckening.”

“How is this an awakening?” I ask, my brows dipping.

“Dude, sex with that guy would be a spiritual experience. Guaranteed.”

I blow out a breath. Okay, so now Clem knows I’m dealing with a hot guy. But that doesn’t change things. “He’s such a jerk, though.”

“Give me two examples,” she says.

“Why two?”

“Because if you only have one, it could be an anomaly or a misread on your part. Two is stronger evidence.”

“Um, okay, well, day one he purposely bumped into me,” I say, though I have no idea if that’s actually true. “And then he dismissed his driver and forced me to drive him back to his office.”

She rolls her eyes. “He bumped into you for a conversation starter, and he invented a way to spend time with you despite your icy attitude. I don’t know, babe. You know you’re my ride or die, but I think maybe you’re being the jerk in this situation.”

“Ew, Clem!” I practically screech. “Don’t you dare say that! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“You know I am. Always. But I think you’re dismissing this guy for silly reasons when you might be missing out on something amazing. A pro football player from a billionaire family like the Bradleys? Fuck the family feud. I say go for it. You’re not even that close with your dad.”

“I know, but this is business, too. I can’t just go for it. I have to think about the future of VBC and all its employees. I can’t get tangled up with a guy who has the power to destroy all of it. I can’t trust him.”

“Because you haven’t given him a chance,” she points out .

“And I won’t. I can’t.” My voice gets a little shaky.

“I already lost all the control I had over my life when I gave in and took this job, Clem. You know that better than anyone. I can’t lose even more to a man who’s considered a rival.

I just have a lot to prove, and sleeping with the enemy just doesn’t feel like the right first impression. ”

No matter how goddamn hot he is. No matter that he’s a professional athlete who appears to be showing an interest in me.

She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I know, babe. I’ll drop it.”

“Thanks,” I whisper as emotion seems to claw at my chest.

I’m glad she understands. I’m glad she’s going to drop it.

But it doesn’t change the fact that her words hit where they were meant to. I’m not giving him a chance, and there’s definitely something there between us.

Hate . I remind myself that it’s hate that’s between us.

I have to. I can’t lose the last tiny shred of control I have left.

I spend the rest of the afternoon preparing for my meeting tomorrow with Madden.

I assume he’ll be bringing a team with him, so I pull together a quick meeting with the heads of zoning, infrastructure, utilities, traffic, sustainability, and safety.

They’re all aware of the project since they each contributed thoughts on the bid, and Dave, our head of zoning, is available to sit in on the meeting tomorrow.

I also tell the sales manager that I’d like Clem to sit in on the meeting.

It’s just safer this way. It’ll help to have backup. It’ll help not to have to face him alone.

And then, purely because of his words to me that I didn’t have the nerve to text him, I finally send him a text.

Me: This is Kennedy Van Buren. My office looks forward to collaborating with you on the SCS project, and I’m just confirming our 9:00 meeting tomorrow at my office.

His reply comes quickly .

Madden: I wondered if you’d ever use the number I gave you, but I really thought you’d be more creative than a confirmation.

I have no idea what to say to that, so I don’t reply.

I decide to text Clem instead, but before I can, my dad pops his head into my office.

“I’m going to sit in on the Bradley meeting tomorrow,” he says.

I nod and force myself to keep my cool. “Nine o’clock.” I don’t want him there. I get nervous enough around Madden. I don’t need my dad there inspecting every single word coming out of my mouth when words cease to work the majority of the time when I’m around that man.

He flusters me, and I don’t like it. It’s why I wanted Clem there. Why I invited David.

But my father? No thanks.

My dad presses his lips together, and he doesn’t say anything at all to the time of the meeting.

Why are men so weird?

I pick my phone up to text Clem.

Me: Thank God you’re coming to that meeting tomorrow. The hot football player and my dad are going to be in the same room, and I’m already sweating.

I set my phone to the side to get some work done, and my phone dings a second later with a new text.

I pick it up, and butterflies take flight in my chest when I see who it’s from.

But when I click on the text, those butterflies seem to straight up die as dread spreads all throughout their place.

Madden: You think I’m hot?

Oh. My. Motherfucker.

I glance up at the text I just sent, and sure enough, the text meant for Clem went to freaking Madden .

God, I’m an idiot. I thought I switched to her contact, but my dad flustered me, and I have a million things on my to-do list today, and shit, shit, shit .

I hold down the text to see if there’s some way to unsend it, but it’s too late. He’s already read it. Hell, he’s already responded to it. It doesn’t matter if I unsend it or delete it. The words are in his head now, and I’m trying to figure out how to handle that.

Me: That text wasn’t meant for you.

Madden: But it was about me.

Me: I refuse to confirm that.

Madden: Are you meeting with other football players behind my back?

Me: If I was, it wouldn’t be your business.

Madden: To be clear, I’m not meeting with other gorgeous real estate developers who appear to miss their former graphic design job.

That’s the second time he’s called me gorgeous, and I sink back into my chair as I try to figure out how to reply—once again coming up blank, naturally.

Me: Can we forget this happened?

Madden: Not a chance in hell, tiger. You called me hot. I’ll never forget this moment.

Me: STOP WITH THE TIGER BUSINESS.

Madden: Then stop being all fierce and demanding.

Me: You are beyond annoying.

Madden: I aim to please.

I can see he’s going to have to get the last word, so I let him settle in there.

It doesn’t work.

Madden: You sure you can’t squeeze in a dinner with me? For the sake of business, of course.

Me: I’m sure.

Madden: I want to know what happened between our fathers.

I freeze at that.

It’s out of left field and completely unexpected, but even if our fathers weren’t enemies, it would be a terrible idea to get involved with him.

Me: Then ask your father.

Madden: I did. I didn’t get anything out of him. I need to know what you know .

Me: Not my story to tell.

Madden: Why do you hate me?

This is getting deep for a text conversation with a man I hardly know, but maybe he communicates over text better than in person.

Me: You’re cocky, you’re annoying, you think you know everything, you’re a business rival. Do I need to go on?

Madden: You forgot one. You think I’m hot.

Me: See what I mean about annoying?

Madden: [smirk emoji]

He even smirks over text. What is with this guy?

Me: I need to get back to work. I have a big meeting I need to prepare for with a rival company.

Madden: I could help you, you know. Say…over dinner?

Me: In your dreams, mule.

Madden: See you in the morning, tiger.

I roll my eyes even though a little smile plays at my lips.

Wait a minute.

No. No smiles. I slap that smile right off my face, and then I get back to work.