Chapter 26
“How does that feel?” Sophie asked, pressing deeper into my shoulder. I winced. “Did you reinjure it recently, because you weren’t complaining about it the other day?”
I barely registered her question because she straddled my thigh as she worked on me. When she dug in once more, the prick of pain centered me.
“I wasn’t paying attention in the ring yesterday, and Nico managed to grab my arm and twist it the wrong way. I thought my shoulder was going to pop out of the socket again.”
“Would that explain the split lip he had earlier?” she asked, massaging the tender area.
“Injury is part of the sparring process. You never know what’s going to happen,” I lied.
Injury wasn’t the norm for sparring. Sure, the opponents could get worked up and hit harder than intended, and by opponents, I meant me.
I’d sometimes hit harder than planned, but I actively worked on keeping my emotions in check.
Sometimes I’d failed, as was the case yesterday when Nico snatched my arm the wrong way and twisted.
He’d realized his mistake seconds before my fist flew at his face.
My retribution was a knee-jerk reaction, and luckily, we patched things up five minutes after the incident happened.
Sophie poured more oil into her hand and rubbed her palms together before she continued working on me.
She stood so close, it was hard for me to concentrate, but I’d managed not to overstep in any way over this past week.
And neither had she. We’d agreed our interactions wouldn’t become awkward, and they hadn’t.
Not really. There was still a sexual pull between us, but we both worked to ignore it.
I believed that in time, we’d let go of the attraction and build on the professional relationship between us.
Did I sound delusional? Probably.
“What happens if the guy you’re fighting does the same thing? What if he manages to pop your shoulder out? What then?”
“He won’t.” I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t worried about that exact scenario.
“But what if he does?” Her warm breath fanned the side of my face as she readjusted herself and started massaging my neck.
The heat from her body wrapped around me, and all I wanted to do was give in to the desire swirling through every cell of my body.
But I had to keep my promise to Trevor that I’d stay focused on my training and not allow any distractions to deter me from my goal, which was winning my next fight.
“Then I’m fucked. I have a high threshold for pain and have even fought with broken fingers and toes, but there’s no way I can fight if my shoulder comes out of its socket. I’m not superhuman.”
“Of course you’re not. Although, you’re probably pretty close,” she teased. Our gazes collided, and a flush spread over her cheeks, but she moved behind me before I could comment.
Moments passed in silence, and I gave in to the incredible feeling of what her hands were able to do for me. Everything was going fine until I opened my big mouth and said something I should’ve kept to myself.
“Your sister thinks I’m hot.”
Sophie stopped massaging me. “I know. Sorry she was so blunt.”
“No apologies necessary. It’s kind of flattering to have an attractive girl compliment me.”
“Is that so?” she asked, her sickly sweet tone masking a hint of irritation. I might’ve misread her reaction, but when she pressed her elbow in between my shoulder blades with more pressure than she’d ever used, I realized I’d hit a nerve.
“Ow.” I jerked forward.
“Stop acting like that hurt.”
“It wasn’t pleasant,” I replied, shifting forward when she did it again. “What are you doing?”
“My job. The muscles in your back are knotted up. I need to use more force to loosen them.” I wanted to call her out but didn’t. Maybe it was a coincidence that she jabbed me with her elbow seconds after I mentioned her sister. “So, you think Abby is pretty?”
Maybe not a coincidence at all.
“Sure.” After two more painful jabs, I hopped off the table. “What’s the matter? And don’t tell me nothing, that you’re just doing your job.”
“She’s too young for you,” she rushed to say, narrowing her eyes at me as she clenched her fists at her sides.
“Who is?”
“My sister. She’s only twenty-three. And you’re what? Thirty-four?”
“Firstly, I’m thirty-two. And secondly, what makes you think I like your sister?”
“You agreed she’s pretty.”
“Wasn’t that the right thing to say?” I was so confused right now. What was happening? “Did you want me to say she wasn’t? Wouldn’t that be rude?”
Instead of answering me, she said, “Why did you bring her up in the first place? Why did you need to remind me that she thinks you’re hot?”
“Because I wanted to hear that you thought the same thing,” I blurted before my brain could stop my stupid mouth from saying those words.
If an awkward moment could result in death, I would’ve stopped breathing right then. What the hell was I thinking, saying some shit like that? I’d managed to hold my tongue for a week, and now this happened. Apparently, I hadn’t gotten a tight enough hold on my restraint.
“Your ego not big enough yet? Yes, I think you’re attractive.
” She huffed, as if answering inconvenienced her.
“But you already knew that. So, what’s the point of all this, Jackson?
Because I’m really confused. You were the one who rejected me last week.
Is this just some sort of sick game you’re playing because you’re bored or something? ”
“No, of course not.” I edged closer, but she took a step back. “I’m sorry. I was just teasing.”
“That’s not true. You don’t tease. You’re not that guy.”
“What if I want to be that guy?” I asked, not completely understanding my own damn question.
The last thing I needed was to become immersed in this back-and-forth with Sophie, but no matter how many times I told myself to let it go, to stop talking and just sit back down so she could finish her job for the day, my feet propelled me toward her as if they had a mind of their own.
Like I was nothing more than a puppet being controlled by my desire, the same desire I’d managed to keep imprisoned for all of seven days.
I reached for her hand, and this time she didn’t pull away.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, her gaze locked on to mine.
“I don’t know.” I’d told the truth, unsure what was going to happen next. I knew what I wanted to happen, but would that scenario truly come to fruition, or would one of us break the trance we seemed to find ourselves in and make the right move, which was not to cross any boundaries?
“You said you didn’t want this to happen.” She dropped her hand from mine but didn’t retreat. In fact, she stepped closer, her body resting against mine. “You’re not a nice guy, Jackson.”
“I know.”
“You act like you don’t want any distractions, refusing my advances—rightfully so, by the way—and make me want you more than before. But I agreed not to pursue you. And I agreed that things between us wouldn’t become awkward, yet here we are. I’m more confused now than before.”
“I know. Me too.”
“But you’re the one making this move. Not me,” she said. Her voice held conviction, but her posture was riddled with uncertainty.
“We can go on pretending not to feel something for each other, even if that thing is strictly sexual. But you and I both know that if we don’t scratch this itch, it’s only going to get worse.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one who said you’d become unbearable with jealousy if I gave myself to you? Is that not true now?”
“Fuck! I did say that, didn’t I?” I started to smile, but she shook her head, and my expression evaporated.
“No, you don’t get to make jokes right now, even though I do enjoy seeing that side of you.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re not, which is more annoying than you can imagine. But….”
“But what?”
She stared at me a moment before answering, “If we do this, scratch this itch, as you say, is that all it’ll be? One time?”
“Is that what you want?” I asked, curious as to what her answer would be.
“I’ve spent all my mental energy trying not to think of you in any other capacity other than my boss to the degree that I don’t know what I want now.”
She had every right to be cautious. In fact, I should’ve followed suit, but I was finding it harder to keep my need to touch her contained. I parted my lips to speak again, but Trevor walked into the room, stopping when he saw how close Sophie and I stood.
“What’s going on?” he asked, tilting his head and shooting daggers at me.
“Nothing,” Sophie answered. “We were just finishing up.” She sidestepped me and headed toward the door, never looking back at me. “He’s all yours.”
I moved toward Trevor, refusing to make eye contact because I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. He mumbled, “Mm-hmm,” as I passed him, and it took everything in me not to punch him.
As I stepped into the ring with Mickey, another sparring partner, I took several deep breaths. I needed to concentrate on my training and not on the woman who had my head all twisted up.
It was my fault, however, for stirring things back up between us.