Home > Knox (Sexy Bastard #3)

Knox (Sexy Bastard #3)
Author: Eve Jagger



I PULL up to the Library bar in my brand new gunmetal gray Porsche. Bit of an upgrade from the battery powered rental I was driving around in last time I was in town. What can I say, I had some time to kill after meeting my new coach and checking out the facilities at Turner Field.

I toss the keys to the valet and sail past the crowd, giving the bouncer a nod. “Welcome home, Knox,” he says as he leans in for a fist-bump. “Glad to hear you’re on the right team this season.”

A couple of girls in line perk up at the sight of our exchange. I like the skin-tight jumpsuit and bright red heels I’m seeing behind that velvet rope, but there’ll be plenty of opportunities for mingling with the locals once I’ve caught up with my friends. And part of me is hoping I’ll run into Shelby. A woman so far from being a groupie she actually dislikes the fact that I’m a baseball player.

The thought of her name has me taking a trip down memory lane to that late night escapade on the little league baseball field. Long brown hair, perfect little nipples, and an ass that could make a grown man cry. Damn. I wish I’d gotten her number, but she made it clear that our New Year’s Eve adventure was only going to be a one-time thing.

Technically a two-time thing, if you count that time on the couch.

Make that four, for those times in the shower and on her bedroom floor.

I shake off thoughts of Shelby as I muscle my way through the crowd and up to the bar. “So what does it take to get some damn service around here?” I say, slapping my hand on the bar.

Cash turns around, a hand raised to meet mine in a clasp that quickly turns into a bear hug.

“Man, it is so good to see you back here. What are you having?”

“Scotch. Straight up.”

“You got it.” He sets me up with a nice pour from a bottle of twelve-year-old Macallan and leads me upstairs to the VIP section.

The place has the dark, oaky feel of the bookstore that it used to be in a previous life. Jackson, the architect in our crew, renovated the place, and his pretty boy face is the first thing I see as I round the corner at the top of the stairs. Everyone is here tonight—Parker, Ryder and his girl Cassie, and Savannah, Cash’s ball and chain. The DJ starts playing Mötley Cruë’s “Home Sweet Home,” and as I look around at the room full of old friends and acquaintances, I can’t help the rush of nostalgia that hits me.

I’ve been so focused on the trade that I’d almost forgotten a homecoming would be part of the package. It feels right, being back in Atlanta again.

“You forgotten what Southern hospitality feels like, buddy?”

Ryder comes in for a pound, his brawling days behind him but still looking every inch the fighter. A cocktail waitress rolls up with a bucket of champagne and some flutes, and we pop the cork on a bottle of Moët. “To the official and permanent reunion of the Sexy Bastards of Atlanta,” Cassie toasts as we raise our glasses.

Looks like my once indivisible bachelor crew has fallen apart at the seams. First Ryder and Cassie, then Cash and Savannah. Must be something in the water in this new place.

Parker, at least, remains a shameless hound dog, his taste for the hunt honed by his years as a Navy SEAL. Living up in New York, he’s down this weekend for business, but he’ll be gone by Monday. Looks like it’s just me and Jackson, the last bachelors standing.

But hey, that means more pickings for us. Out of the corner of my eye I spy a luscious blonde with legs up to her ears and a crop top that bares just the right amount of midriff. Being traded sucks, but coming home to my old college group definitely takes away some of the sting. Doesn’t hurt that the women in this town are as sexy as I remember.

I nod to Parker. “How’s New York treating you?”

He shrugs. “Same old. But I’ve gotta party twice as hard now that it’s just me.”

Last time the two of us hung out, we started out in the Meatpacking District and wound up watching the sun rise in Atlantic City, after a long drive with a couple of leggy Danish models sprawled out in the back of Parker’s Maserati. My head aches just thinking about the hangover I had the next day. But you only live once. Better make it hurt.

“Yeah, well, now that Knox is back in town, we’re gonna have to find him a steady girl,” Cassie says, furrowing her brow as if she’s scanning her mental rolodex.

“Yeah, between the two of us we know plenty of girls who are still single.” Savannah pulls her phone out, ready to start scrolling through her contacts.

Cash laughs. “Don’t hold your breath, ladies. The local diamond dolls are gonna be all over our boy here. Let him enjoy it before you start trying to chain him down.”

Groupies. I’ve gotta admit—the routine gets old, but the eye candy never fails to tempt me. Like I said, you only live once. “Hey, the last girl I hooked up with didn’t even know who I was,” I can’t help pointing out.

Ryder laughs. “Is that what she told you?”

I roll my eyes.

“Did you find her hidden under a rock, then? I hear those cloistered nuns are hot.” Cash grins at me, that old twinkle in his eye. He’d never mess around on Savannah, but I swear that’s made him worse than ever about hounding me to go hook up in his place.

“Actually, I met her right here in this fine establishment of ours.”

“Nice. Hooking up in the library—exactly what we had in mind,” Cash says with more than a little enthusiasm.

“You say that like we haven’t already,” Savannah butts in with a pointed eyebrow, which earns her a high-five from Cassie.

“Hey don’t change the subject,” Ryder interrupts. “You’ve been holding out on us, bro. When was this? And who, someone from school?”

“New Year’s. And nope. Never seen her before in my life. Or since, for that matter.”

It may not have been the first time a New Year’s countdown and a whole bunch of booze ended with a girl screaming my name, but this time was different. For one thing, this time I was sober enough that my memory of the way she felt beneath me in that baseball field is still seared red-hot into my brain. The number of times I’ve relived that night, her hands all over me, her breathing heavy as she urged my fingers closer to her soaking panties . . .

“So that’s where you disappeared that night, you dirty dog!” Cash punches my arm across the table.

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