Chapter 17
The second I stepped into her bathroom and stumbled upon her naked form, I froze. A gentleman would’ve looked embarrassed and turned away immediately, but I never claimed to be a gentleman. Ever. Besides, I couldn’t look away.
Did I feel guilty about getting an eyeful, appreciating her glorious tits, shapely hips, and toned legs?
Fuck no. Did I want to see her naked again?
Hell yes. But if that did happen, it would be because she chose to show me her body.
Not another mishap. Although, I shouldn’t speak too soon because all our encounters had been out of the ordinary.
One might think we should skip the odd run-ins and get down and dirty. And by one, I meant me.
“There you go. That should do it. No more spurts of boiling water.” Tossing my wrench into my toolbox, I hoisted myself to my feet and wiped my hands on a towel I’d brought over with me.
“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
I lingered in her space, her closeness disorienting me.
So much so, I’d taken longer than necessary fixing her shower.
But that was only partly my doing. She’d peer over my shoulder and ask me questions, and each time I had to stop and explain.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t mind interacting with someone I hardly knew.
To be fair, though, I wouldn’t be able to classify Sophie as someone I barely knew for much longer, our daily interactions having become more frequent.
The thought of having her for myself was both tempting and downright delusional. I wasn’t any good for her. Fuck, I wasn’t good for anyone. It was why the only relationships I had with women were strictly transactional. We fuck, and then they leave.
I was one step outside her bathroom, clutching my toolbox in my right hand when her voice halted my steps. “I forgot to tell you that I have an oil that would work great for your shoulder. I left it at my dad’s house, but I can pick it up if you’d like to try it.”
We seemed to be engaged in a balanced give-and-take kind of scenario.
Me showing her how to defend herself, her helping relieve some of the ache of my bad shoulder, me fixing her shower, her offering another service for my pain.
If I went down on her, would she feel inclined to do the same to me?
Whoa, pump the brakes. Only turmoil could come from taking things too far with her.
She was quickly becoming a distraction, and if we fucked, I feared she’d unknowingly ruin everything I’d worked so hard for over the length of my career.
It wouldn’t be her fault, but I’d come to resent her in the end regardless.
The words that I should’ve said were “No, but thank you.” Instead, my hormones overrode my brain and I replied, “Anything that’ll help. Thanks.”
“I’ll get it for you tomorrow.” She fiddled with the side of her shirt, the graphic of lips on the front making me want to kiss her even more.
“I need to go.” This time I headed toward the door without stopping, even when I sensed her close behind me.
“Thanks again, Jackson.”
I refused to release another word, fearful I’d never get out of here. And I needed to. If I remained in her space for another moment, I’d toss aside all caution.
“Really?” Trevor asked.
“What?” I grunted, sidestepping my sparring partner.
“Where the fuck is your head, man?” He pounded his fist on the floor of the ring. “You better start paying attention, or you can kiss this fight goodbye.”
“I’m fine.”
“Then stop fucking up.”
I refused to admit I was indeed distracted, not only by recalling the events of last night but also by the sight of Sophie talking to Lance.
She laughed and smacked his arm. And he looked pleased with himself.
I tore my eyes away from them but not quick enough, because my trainer followed my eyeline.
“Do we need to get rid of her?” he asked.
“Who?” I played dumb but failed. Big-time.
“Sophie.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s obviously a distraction.”
“How so?”
“Are we gonna keep going back and forth while you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about? Because I have to tell you, it’s getting annoying.”
I ignored his small rant, instead blurting, “Doesn’t Lance have anything better to do than talk to her?”
Trevor turned to look at them, then back at me. “Lance would never cheat on his wife. You know that.”
“Then why is he constantly making her laugh?”
I moved to drape my arms over the top rope, my eyes fixated on them both, but they were oblivious, continuing to flirt with each other.
Having no claim over Sophie whatsoever, I battled with saying something or ignoring them. But a jealousy I hadn’t felt before raged inside me, my body heating the more I watched them.
I hopped out of the ring and made my way straight for them, Trevor shouting at me as I walked away. The commotion was enough to draw Sophie’s and Lance’s attention.
I snarled at Lance as I grabbed Sophie’s hand and gently pulled her behind me as I headed somewhere more private.
“Hi,” she said, the lilt of her voice working to calm me, if only fractionally. “I have the oil in my apartment. I can bring it over later if you want.” Her words evaporated in the air as she continued to follow me, but because I hadn’t released her yet, she didn’t have much of a choice.
Only when we were free from prying eyes did I stop and turn toward her, advancing until she had no choice but to back up, her back colliding with the wall in the hallway.
“Do you like him?”
“Who?”
“Lance.”
“Yeah. He’s nice.”
Her affirmation was like a punch in the stomach.
“Does he like you?” My voice dipped. “Did he tell you?”
“I think he likes me.” Her shoulders bounced lazily, the grin on her face gutting me.
“So, you’re interested, then?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Lance. You. You two like each other.”
Her smile disappeared as confusion etched itself into the lines of her face. Seconds later, her eyes widened.
“No. No. I don’t like him like that. And he’s not interested in me. He’s married.” She shook her head. “Just… no.”
With her clarification, my heart started to slow its erratic pace.
“Then why are you two flirting with each other?”
“We’re not flirting, Jackson. We’re conversing.”
“You keep laughing.”
“So? He’s funny.”
“He’s not that funny.” I stepped into her, towering over her small frame. But she didn’t seem frightened. If anything, she looked annoyed at my continuous questions and accusations.
“I’m not sure why you seem to be upset, but if you’re worried about me getting my job done, I can assure you, I will. I’ll stay later, if that’s what it takes.”
“I’m not worried about your fucking job.”
She rested her hand on her waist. “What’s going on?”
There were so many things I could’ve responded with, but what did I say instead?
“You’re not going to oversee the gym anymore.”
“Jackson… please don’t do this. I need this job, especially now. If you don’t want me to talk to Lance while I’m working, I won’t. Just don’t fire me. I promise—”
“I’m not firing you. I’m switching your job.”
“Oh.”
“You’re going to be my sports therapist from here on out. That means your hours will change and you’ll have to travel to the fights as well. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
I walked away, brushing past Lance and Trevor without another word, refusing to indulge in the questioning look on both of their faces.
I tried to convince myself that Sophie would be less distracting if her sole job was focused on me.
How delusional I’d truly become.