Hendrix: A Pittsburgh Titans Novel

Tugging at the bottom of my dress, I look around the bar. It’s a mash-up of people in varying styles—my regular biker clientele, complete in jeans and leathers, the genuine Titans fans decked out in the team colors of purple and silver, and then you have us… the Titans family.

It’s not the entire team, but enough are here to outnumber my usual patrons. Many of the other players had long-set plans for New Year’s since it’s a full night and next day off for the team.

But enough of them came to make me marvel at just how fast I’ve gained an extended family.

I pull at my dress again as it feels too short. Harlow insisted I wear it, an outfit a bit too snug and sparkly for my taste, but admittedly, when Hendrix saw it, his tongue about fell out of his head. The stiletto heels might have contributed.

However, Hendrix being Hendrix set me straight. He pulled me into his arms and whispered in my ear, “You are so hot tonight, I’m not sure how I’m going to keep my hands off you. But truth be told, you’re just as hot in jeans and a T-shirt.”

One more moment when I fell deeper in love with him.

“Stop fidgeting with your dress,” Harlow says, nudging me with her elbow.

“It’s too short,” I complain. “Everyone’s looking.”

“It’s not too short, but the more you tug on it, the more people will look. So stop it.”

“Fine,” I grumble, and instead, I nervously twist the diamond studs in my ears.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, turning my way. She’s drinking a bottle of water and looks sexy as hell in her own snug little dress of deep green.

“It’s just… yesterday I was enemy number one, and today the whole team is here in my bar to celebrate New Year’s.”

Harlow shakes her head. “No, you weren’t enemy number one yesterday. You were enemy number one five days ago, but the team learned the real story three days ago, so you’ve been solidly back on firm ground with everyone since then.”

I roll my eyes and jab her with my elbow. “You know what I mean. I just… I hurt this team.”

“No,” she says in a tone that sounds like she’s lecturing a second grader. “Your mom hurt the team. And she hurt you. Everyone knows that, and everyone is thrilled you and Hendrix are back together.”

My eyes drift over to him, standing with several of his teammates. They’re laughing about something, and as if he can sense me staring, his head turns my way.

Cheeks heating just a bit, I smile at him. He doesn’t return the smile but tilts his head slightly, asking a silent question. Are you okay?

We had this same talk earlier while we were getting ready at my house, and he reassured me same as Harlow. But he knows I’m nervous.

I nod and get a smile back before he turns to his friends.

“Come on,” I say, looping my arm through Harlow’s. “Let’s go celebrate the last day of this year.”

♦

“Your shot,” Kiera says as she hands me my pool stick. I let her use it as we’re playing partners against Hendrix and her brother Drake.

Men versus women.

Winners versus losers.

Kiera’s not that great of a pool player, which means I’m pretty much taking on Hendrix and Drake, who’s not bad.

I walk around the table, studying what’s left of this game of eight ball. Kiera and I are stripes, and we have three balls left. Hendrix and Drake have only one solid left.

Glancing at the next table over, my heart swells full. Another glorious example of worlds colliding.

Brienne Norcross, billionaire owner of the Titans, chose to spend New Year’s in my little bar, I’m sure forsaking some fancy party in the city. Hendrix said she did it for Drake, who doesn’t feel comfortable in that part of her world, although he’d certainly follow her anywhere.

But Brienne admitted to me earlier that she much prefers this atmosphere. She’s dressed in tight black leather pants, a red silk halter top, and killer black boots with tiny silver chains wrapped around the ankles.

She’s playing pool with Jenna, and they’re taking on Molly and Karla, two of my regulars who are married to men who ride with my dad. They’re in jeans and low-cut tank tops, both of them covered in tattoos.

But the thing is… it doesn’t matter what any of them are wearing because all four women are talking and laughing as they play.

Two different walks of life united over a game of pool.

I focus back on our table, considering my shot. Hendrix sits halfway on a stool at a high top watching me. He’s got one foot propped on a crossbar and the other long leg stretched out. His pool stick is planted on the ground between his legs, and he’s holding the top with both hands. A leisurely pose, but there’s nothing laid back in his gaze as he watches me.

“I’m going to get us another round,” Drake announces.

I ignore him, focusing on my path to victory on the green felt. I have two good choices to start, but I decide to take the shot on the side of the table closest to Hendrix.

He smirks as I walk around, adding a bit of sway to my hips. My feet are killing me in these heels, but I suffer it because they’re part of the package that makes his eyes glitter with appreciation.

Giving him my back, I bend over to line up my shot. I know my dress rides up a bit, not anywhere close to indecent, but enough that I know if I were to turn around to look at Hendrix, his eyes would be pinned on my ass.

“Hey, baby,” he says, low enough for me to hear. I ignore him, concentrating on dropping that five ball in the side pocket. “Please let me take you into the storeroom for fifteen minutes.”

“You’re cute,” I say out of the side of my mouth and then execute a clean shot. The five ball disappears. I straighten and turn to him. “But if we go into the storeroom, we’ll miss out on midnight, and I’m not about to miss my first kiss of the new year.”

Hendrix glances at his watch and frowns. “Seven minutes. Definitely not enough time for what I’d want to do to you in there.”

Laughing, I fist his shirt and pull him to me. I brush my lips against his and start to pull away, but I’m stopped with his hand going to the back of my neck. He deepens the kiss and when he finally breaks apart, he murmurs against my mouth, “I love you.”

A shiver skitters up my spine over the naked truth in his statement. I lean back, stare him in the eye, and give him my own honesty. “I love you. So much.”

He grins, releases his hold, and nods at the table. “Put us out of our misery.”

I do him a solid and run the next two balls, winning the game just as Drake returns holding two bottles of beer in each hand.

“Damn,” he mutters, offering us our drinks. He then pulls out his wallet and hands Kiera a twenty.

“You thought I’d be a liability to my team, didn’t you?” she quips happily.

“I thought Hendrix and I would at least have a fighting chance with you as Stevie’s partner.”

“Want to go double or nothing?” Kiera asks.

“No fucking way,” Drake says, his gaze drifting over to Brienne. “Going to watch my girl play.”

Kiera turns to Bain and Camden sitting at the table beside Hendrix. “Come on… who wants to play?”

“I’m in,” Bain says, fishing change out of his pocket to release the balls for another game.

Drake gives him an icy glare. It’s a warning that his baby sister is off-limits.

Bain rolls his eyes. “Relax, dude. It’s a game of pool.”

“Don’t pay him any attention,” Kiera assures Bain. “He’s only mad he just lost twenty bucks.”

A hand wraps around my wrist, and Hendrix pulls me to him. I set my pool stick against the wall and lean into him as one arm wraps around my waist so we can watch Bain and Kiera play.

Hendrix leans to the side of his stool, pulling out his phone. I watch curiously as he opens the camera app and holds it out just far enough to take a selfie.

His entire face fills the screen in a big, cheesy grin.

“What’s your dad’s phone number?” he asks, and I look on as he prepares a text with the photo.

I give it to him, and then he types, Happy New Year. Wish you were here.

Laughing, I push in close as he hits Send, knowing my dad will reply. He might have chosen to stay at home tonight and binge-watch true crime documentaries, but he’s a night owl same as me and won’t be asleep.

It takes less than ten seconds for his reply.

A picture of my dad’s face, glaring into the camera. Glad you’re not here. Happy New Year.

Hendrix and I both burst out laughing. “You know… I think your dad likes me,” he says.

I don’t affirm this, but he’s not wrong. My dad likes him a lot.

“He’d be here if Aunt Rory were here,” I observe.

Hendrix grimaces. “Please don’t even go there.”

“You know it’s true,” I tease.

Suddenly, the music on the jukebox silences and someone yells, “It’s almost time.”

The bartender turns up the volume on the large-screen TVs around the bar, all tuned in to watch the ball drop in New York City.

Less than thirty seconds. Everyone scrambles to find their honeys. I’m with mine, so I watch as the pairs come together.

Drake and Brienne at the pool table next to us.

Gage and Jenna at the bar, sitting on stools next to Baden and Sophie.

Coach West is at a table, Ava on his lap, sharing beers with Coen and Tillie.

Around the dartboard, a handful of the single guys, including Camden, who moved off to join Kirill, Boone, and Foster.

And at our pool table, Kiera and Bain ignoring the TV and continuing on with their game.

Hendrix rises from the stool, turns me toward him, and wraps an arm around the back of my waist.

His hand comes under my chin to force my gaze on him. In the background, I hear the crowd counting down from ten as the New Year draws close. “Nine… eight… seven…”

“This is the beginning,” he says. “New year, the rest of our lives.”

“Six… five…”

“I’ve never looked forward to anything more,” I say, my hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“Four… three… two…”

Hendrix dips his head, presses his mouth to mine.

“One. Happy New Year!”

Vaguely, I hear people cheering and party favors chirping as confetti flutters down around us. But I tune it all out as Hendrix deepens the kiss and we step into our future… together.