Page 27 of Mad Rivals (The Bradley Legacy #1)

The Future CEO

When I get into the office on Monday morning, I’m still in a haze over my weekend.

She left shortly after breakfast yesterday, but she did love my pancakes—even in their strange, square shape.

And something happened.

Something big.

Something deep.

When she left…I didn’t want her to go.

That’s not me, and it never has been. I’ve never allowed myself to get attached. So what the fuck makes her different? I have no idea.

I stop at Starbucks for some caffeine and the chance to run into her, but she’s not there. We’ve both eased into more projects at work that keep us separated, though I’m wondering if she’s come up with a way to get to the LA office.

I don’t hear from her during working hours, but I’m busy with projects anyway. I do, however, stop into my father’s office after lunch.

“You mentioned a San Diego office. Tell me more about it,” I say, sitting in the chair across from him .

“Coming around, I see,” he says. He pulls open something on his tablet, and he passes it over to me. I glance at the information on the office building he chose, and it’s in Carlsbad. As I recall, that’s north of San Diego, and perfect given what Kennedy and I talked about yesterday.

I shouldn’t be having those thoughts, yet they are certainly ever-present. She is certainly ever-present.

I haven’t stopped thinking about her since the moment I met her, and now we’re going to spend a weekend together in California? It seems dangerous somehow, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from moving in that direction anyway.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“Carlsbad isn’t very close to the practice facility, but I can make it work,” I say rather than the other rushing thoughts in my head regarding our competitor.

“Pick a place to live halfway between the two,” he suggests, always full of answers. I don’t want to pick a place further from our practice facility, but the thought of Kennedy having to drive further to her office isn’t exactly appealing, either.

Wait a second.

What the fuck did I just think to myself?

I’m considering a woman’s commute in my thought process of where to live?

But…why?

We’ve been together exactly one night. I have no idea why it feels like more, but suddenly it’s like I can see a future with a person I just met.

Maybe it’s because we bonded on more than one level. She isn’t sure she wants her family business, and neither am I, yet we’re both destined to fulfill a role someone else chose for us. And then there was her hate for me melting into something else.

There was Saturday night and breakfast yesterday.

There’s always California .

I never really pictured my life after the game since it was always mapped out for me, but I’m starting to picture it now. And I like seeing her in that picture.

It’s a hard reality I never wanted to face, but with this being the last year of my contract on top of a trade, I’m not sure I can see myself playing beyond this year.

It’s better to quit while I’m ahead. I’ve got my health, though who knows what’s in store for me this season.

More years would equal more money, but there’s plenty of cash to be had in the real estate development market, too.

Just ask the billionaire sitting across the desk from me.

“Is there anything else?” he asks.

“Send me the details on the office,” I finally say, relenting. I like what I’ve seen so far of San Diego, and maybe after a year there I’ll decide I’m ready to call it a day on icy winters, lake effect snow, and unpredictable weather. “I can swing by to check it out in person this weekend.”

“We’ve already rented the space, and I’ve already tagged who will be running that office,” he says.

“I thought you wanted me to do it,” I protest.

“And I thought you didn’t want that.”

“If I’m the future CEO, I’d at least like to have some say in these decisions.”

“If?” he repeats, and I forcibly restrain myself from rolling my eyes. “I’ll remind you that yes, you are the future CEO, but I am the current one.”

Thanks, Pops. Really needed that reminder.

Normally on a Monday night in the offseason after the Bradley family dinner, I’d be getting paid to make an appearance at a bar or club nearby.

But tonight, I had no offers. And so I’m sitting at home on my balcony thinking about the kiss I shared with Kennedy a few nights ago when I decide to send her a text.

Me: The view isn’t as good tonight.

I take a photo of the pier and attach it, and her reply comes quickly .

Kennedy: Turn the camera around and try again.

I laugh at her text, and then I do it and send her a cheesy selfie.

Kennedy: Much better.

Me: Send me one, too, but with your tits in it.

Kennedy: Definitely no.

Me: You’re no fun.

Kennedy: You weren’t saying that on Saturday night in a bathroom at the gala. Or those times afterward at your place.

Me: You were definitely fun then, tiger.

Kennedy: [tiger emoji]

Me: [laugh emoji]

I can’t quite figure out why getting a tiger emoji has me laughing at my phone, but I feel light and excited as I think about what to text her next. It’s as I’m thinking that a new message comes through from my brother, Dex.

Dex: You home?

Me: Yep.

A minute later, my phone rings, and it’s the front desk of my building.

“Send him up,” I answer, since that will be Dex.

I open my front door, and the elevators open on my floor a moment later. Dex steps off, and I greet him with our usual hug where we pound each other on the back.

“Couldn’t make it in time for family dinner?” I tease.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head as if the thought of attending it is more than he can deal with.

“What the fuck do you want?” I tease some more.

My phone dings with a new text, and it’s probably from Kennedy. I want to look at it with everything in me, but I know if I do, I’ll get that stupid grin on my face again, and then I’ll be subjected to Dex’s questions that I’m certainly not ready to answer .

“I got into a little trouble in Vegas. Can I lay low here for a few days?” he asks. He looks…well, a little more haggard than usual.

“When you say trouble …” I hint, trailing off, and he sighs.

“I’d prefer not to get into it.” He walks past me and into my place, and I slam the door behind him.

“And I’d prefer not to harbor a fugitive. Out with it.”

He sets his hands on his hips. The family resemblance is strong with him—with all my siblings, really, except for Archer.

“Fine. Wild night out, wrong crowd. There were some drugs, a fight broke out, and a few photos were taken that could show me out of context, so my publicist suggested getting out of town. I got here intending to stay with Mom and Dad, but then I realized there is absolutely no part of me that wants to do that, so I’m here begging for a place to stay. I just need a few days. A week tops.”

“When you say there were some drugs…were you doing them?” I ask carefully.

He presses his lips together. “No.”

“Not in the photos, or not at all?”

“Not at all, man,” he says defensively. “Who do you take me for? I’ve got a career I’m not ready to fuck around with.

I was in a bedroom with a woman when it all went down.

It was honestly wrong place, wrong time.

My publicist is trying to cover it with a deepfake, but it’s anyone’s guess whether it’ll work. ”

“What’s a deepfake?” I ask.

“You know, those artificial intelligence images that are generated to look like someone or something else is going on.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

He shrugs, and I probably don’t want to get caught up in this, but he’s my brother.

I sigh. “Okay. You can stay here. I’m going to San Diego Wednesday evening, so you’ll have the place to yourself if you’re staying longer than that.” I’m giving the hint so he’ll reply with when he plans to leave, but he doesn’t say.

“Thanks, man.”

“Did you bring luggage?” I ask.

He shakes his head. He’s sort of the Bradley rebel, if there was one, and he tends to make impulsive decisions that can potentially put the rest of us into situations we don’t want to be in.

“You’re an idiot. You know that?” I press.

“Fuck this,” he mutters. “I’ll just go stay with Mom and Dad.”

“Knock it off. But pull yourself together, yeah? You can borrow whatever you need short of my toothbrush. I have some spares in the guest bathroom. And clean the fuck up after yourself.”

“Yes, Father,” he says.

Jesus. Do I sound like Dad? I sure fucking hope not.

I send him in the direction of the guest rooms and tell him he can take his pick, and then I head out to the balcony to check that last text from Kennedy.

Kennedy: What are you doing now? We could have some more fun…

That’s the text I missed because of Dex?

And now my cockblock of a brother is here, so I can’t even invite her over. I’m not ready to reveal the fact that I’m seeing someone, especially not if Dex happens to find out who she is.

Me: My brother just showed up from Vegas. I’m so sorry. If he wasn’t here, I’d be all over having more fun. Actually, I’d be all over YOU…

Kennedy: Bummer. How long is he staying?

Me: No idea. He’s here laying low. Lucky me.

Kennedy: I’m sorry.

Me: I’ll text you my hotel details in San Diego. I just changed to a place in Carlsbad, so it’s not as far for you.

I’m not sure why I give her that little detail. It’s definitely showing my vulnerability, something I wasn’t quite ready to do.

Kennedy: You didn’t have to do that.

Me: If it were up to me, I’d just keep you there all weekend.

Kennedy: What would you do with me ?

She’s bold, and I like it. My cock likes it, too. He perks up at the mere thought of having her in my hotel room all weekend.

I decide to take a page from her book and be bold right back.

Me: Tie you to my bed and make you beg me for my cock.

Kennedy: Whoa. I’m listening. What else?

Me: Fuck you slow. Fuck you hard. Fuck you deep.

Kennedy: So lots of sex.

Me: So much sex. And lots of orgasms.

Kennedy: How many?

Me: What’s your single-night record?

Kennedy: Three.

Three? I gave her three on Saturday night.

Holy shit. The realization washes over me.

How many men has she been with? Wait…no. I don’t want to know the answer to that.

But now my wheels are turning. She wasn’t a virgin, but maybe she’s not very experienced. There was something innocent about her, and the way she bent to my will was hotter than fuck. I want it again. I need it again.

I’m not prepared for this. And certainly not now that my fucking brother is here.

I blow out a breath and sidestep that question for now, though curiosity will eventually get the best of me. Still, even if I ask her, am I prepared to share my number? Likely not. Maybe we won’t need to.

Me: What about you? If you could do whatever you wanted to me, what would it be?

Kennedy: You’ll laugh if I say it.

Me: I promise I won’t.

Kennedy: I’d kiss you.

All the things in the world she could do, and she chooses…kissing?

Me: Kiss me ?

Kennedy: You’re a really good kisser. My stomach flips every time you kiss me. And then I’d let you kiss me wherever you want because you’re also very good with your mouth.

My chest tightens at her words. Her stomach flips when I kiss her?

It just makes me want to kiss her more. I want her to feel that exciting flip of her stomach every time she’s in the same room as me.

What the hell is happening to me?

Me: I can’t wait to show you how good.

The door to my balcony opens. “Mind if I join you out here?” Dex asks, interrupting my intense texting conversation with Kennedy.

“Do I have a choice?” I joke.

He chuckles, and he sits beside me, not across from me, so I can’t even text her without him looking over my shoulder.

My phone dings with another text, but I don’t look to answer it. Instead, I make small talk with my brother while I wait for the moment when I can pick up my conversation with the woman I seem to be falling for hard and fast.