Chapter 15 - Jaynas Touch
Ginny Nakamura told herself she was only “dropping by.”
Not spying.
Not checking.
Just… visiting.
Jayna had casually mentioned she’d be back at her sports therapy clinic Monday morning. Something about a new athlete recovering from a shoulder injury.
Ginny had nodded like it was normal information.
It was normal information.
So why was she standing outside the glass doors of Stewart Performance Therapy at 10:17 AM pretending to read a text that didn’t exist?
She inhaled.
Relax.
You are not her girlfriend.
You are not her fiancée.
You are definitely not jealous.
She pushed the door open.
---
The clinic smelled like disinfectant and eucalyptus.
Bright. Clean. Professional.
Very Jayna.
Through the open training area, Ginny spotted her instantly.
Jayna was in fitted black athletic wear, hair tied up, focused.
Confident.
Beautiful.
Ginny’s stomach flipped involuntarily.
And then she saw who Jayna was working with.
A tall woman. Lean. Early twenties. Definitely an athlete.
Jayna stood directly behind her, one hand steady on the client’s shoulder blade, the other guiding her arm upward.
“Relax your neck,” Jayna murmured.
Her voice.
Soft.
Patient.
Encouraging.
Ginny’s jaw tightened.
Jayna stepped even closer.
Her chest almost brushing the client’s back as she adjusted her posture.
“There,” Jayna said gently. “Feel that engagement?”
The client nodded, smiling. “Yeah. That helps a lot.”
Ginny folded her arms.
Why is she standing that close?
It’s therapy.
Why is her hand on her waist?
It’s alignment correction.
Why does it look intimate?
It isn’t.
Jayna laughed softly at something the client said.
Ginny felt heat rise in her chest.
Possessive.
Sharp.
Unexpected.
---
Jayna finally noticed her.
Their eyes met across the room.
For half a second, Jayna froze.
Then her expression warmed.
Surprised. Pleased.
And that did something even worse to Ginny’s insides.
“Hey,” Jayna called gently. “Give me two minutes?”
Ginny forced a casual shrug. “Take your time.”
She absolutely did not mean that.
---
Jayna finished the set, hands still guiding, steadying, correcting.
Ginny watched every touch.
Every close lean-in.
Every supportive smile.
By the time the session ended, Ginny’s pulse was tight and uncomfortable.
This is ridiculous.
You don’t own her.
She’s not yours.
The client gathered her bag.
“See you Wednesday, Coach,” she said brightly.
Coach.
Ginny hated how cute that sounded.
Jayna nodded. “Don’t skip your mobility work.”
The client laughed. “Only if you text to remind me.”
Ginny’s eyebrows shot up.
Jayna smirked lightly. “I don’t chase lazy athletes.”
They both laughed.
The client waved goodbye and walked out—
Giving Ginny a polite smile on her way past.
Ginny returned it stiffly.
---
The door closed.
Silence.
Jayna turned toward her fully now.
“You’re here.”
“Obviously.”
Jayna stepped closer, wiping her hands with a towel.
“What’s wrong?”
Ginny blinked. “Nothing.”
Jayna raised an eyebrow.
“Ginny.”
“I just thought I’d stop by.”
“And stand there looking like you’re about to file a complaint?”
Ginny scoffed. “I was not.”
“You were glaring.”
“I was observing.”
Jayna’s lips twitched.
“Oh. Observing.”
Ginny dropped her arms. “You stand very close to your clients.”
There it was.
The real reason.
Jayna stilled slightly.
“It’s hands-on therapy.”
“Mm.”
“You know that.”
Ginny avoided her eyes.
Jayna studied her for a long moment.
Then she stepped closer.
Deliberately.
“Are you jealous?”
Ginny’s head snapped up. “No.”
Too fast.
Jayna’s smirk deepened.
“You’re territorial.”
“I am not.”
“You were practically marking your territory with your eyes.”
Ginny flushed. “Shut up.”
Jayna laughed softly.
It wasn’t mocking.
It was fond.
And that somehow made it worse.
---
Jayna closed the distance between them completely now.
Not touching.
Just close enough that Ginny felt her presence everywhere.
“You don’t get possessive rights,” Jayna said gently.
The words stung more than they should.
“I’m not claiming anything.”
“But you’re feeling something.”
Ginny swallowed.
She hated how perceptive Jayna was.
“It just—” she started, then stopped.
Jayna waited.
No teasing now.
Just steady attention.
“It looked intimate,” Ginny admitted quietly.
Jayna’s expression softened.
“It’s clinical.”
“I know.”
“But?”
Ginny hesitated.
Then said it anyway.
“I didn’t like it.”
The air shifted.
Something vulnerable.
Exposed.
Jayna’s voice dropped.
“You didn’t like seeing me that close to someone else?”
Ginny nodded once.
Barely.
Honest.
---
Jayna exhaled slowly.
Then she did something dangerous.
She stepped even closer.
Until there was barely space between them.
“Ginny,” she said softly, “if you’re going to be territorial, at least admit it.”
Ginny’s pulse spiked.
“I am not territorial.”
Jayna tilted her head slightly.
“Then why are you standing in my space right now?”
Ginny froze.
She hadn’t even realized she’d moved forward.
Her hand was resting on the edge of Jayna’s training table.
Blocking her in.
Oh.
Oh.
Jayna’s eyes dropped briefly to Ginny’s lips.
Then back up.
“That look,” Jayna murmured.
“What look?”
“The one you had at the reunion. When someone flirted with me at the bar.”
Ginny’s heart thudded.
“You grabbed my arm so hard I almost lost circulation.”
“I was committing to the bit,” Ginny defended weakly.
Jayna smiled slowly.
“It didn’t feel like acting.”
Silence.
Charged.
Heavy.
---
Jayna’s fingers brushed lightly against Ginny’s wrist.
Gentle.
Not clinical.
Not professional.
Intentional.
“Tell me something,” Jayna said quietly. “If I told you I had a date tonight… what would you do?”
Ginny’s stomach dropped.
“You do?”
“No,” Jayna said immediately. “Answer the question.”
Ginny held her gaze.
Heat building under her skin.
“I’d cancel it.”
Jayna blinked. “You’d cancel my date?”
“Yes.”
“On what authority?”
Ginny stepped closer.
Impulsive.
Unfiltered.
“On the authority that you’re supposed to be my fiancée.”
Jayna’s breath hitched slightly.
The word lingered between them.
No audience.
No performance.
Just truth tangled in a lie.
“And after the reunion?” Jayna asked softly.
Ginny faltered.
That was the problem, wasn’t it?
The reunion was over.
There was no script anymore.
No reason to keep touching.
No excuse to keep feeling.
Jayna’s thumb pressed lightly against the inside of Ginny’s wrist.
Her pulse jumped violently under the contact.
“You can’t get territorial,” Jayna whispered, “if you don’t plan on staying.”
The words sank deep.
Ginny’s defenses cracked just slightly.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.
Jayna’s expression softened completely now.
“Yeah,” she said gently. “I noticed.”
Silence stretched.
Their bodies close.
Breathing uneven.
The tension no longer playful.
Something heavier now.
Messier.
Real.
And for the first time since this started—
Ginny realized her jealousy wasn’t about performance.
It wasn’t about ego.
It wasn’t about winning.
It was fear.
Fear that someone else could have Jayna.
And she wouldn’t have the right to stop it.
Jayna stepped back first.
Professional distance returning slowly.
“I have another client in ten,” she said quietly.
Ginny nodded.
Trying to steady her breathing.
“Right.”
She moved toward the door.
But before she opened it—
Jayna called out softly.
“Ginny.”
She turned.
Jayna’s gaze held hers.
Steady.
Serious.
“If you’re going to get territorial,” Jayna said, “figure out why.”
The door closed behind Ginny moments later.
But the question followed her all the way home.
And she didn’t like the answer forming in her chest.
Because it wasn’t fake.
Not anymore.