Chapter 24
twenty-four
EZRA
I wake up at the ass crack of dawn like I do every day. I don’t even need an alarm. My brain is probably just sick of the nightly slideshow of Maverick’s panicked face and worried eyes that were directed at someone who isn’t me. I groan, scratching my beard and blinking the sleep out of my eyes.
I’m being such a jealous asshole that I’ve barely spoken to Jo in the week we’ve been here.
She really only speaks to me to see if I’ve had an update on Maverick or to ask what I want for dinner.
It somehow became routine for me to cook breakfast and her dinner.
We figure out lunch on our own. It would be a cute domestic picture if I were here with Maverick.
“You need to fucking stop,” I tell myself out loud.
This isn’t me. I’m not the guy who blames someone else for their own actions.
And this is my fault. I was dead for all Maverick knew, and he moved on.
Which was his right. I need to do better.
Be nicer. That doesn’t mean I’m giving up on him.
It just means I need to play the long game.
I quickly swap my sleep pants for workout clothes and make my way to the gym in the basement.
I’m tying my hair back when I notice the door is open a crack and the light is on.
Quietly, I inch over to the kitchen counter behind me and grab one of the many guns I have hidden all over the house.
Which I really should let Jo know. As far as she knows, there was only the one that was in the car.
I should probably teach her how to shoot, too.
The stairs leading to the basement are cement covered in high-traction carpet so I make no noise as I descend the stairs.
As I get closer to the bottom, I can hear feminine grunts and what sounds like hits to the punching bag.
I peek around the corner to see Jo in nothing but a blue sports bra and her purple checkered sleep shorts, absolutely wailing on the bag.
She’s not sloppy either. She punches and jabs like someone who’s been training for years.
I lower the gun and slip it into the back of my shorts so I don’t scare her.
“Should you be doing that on your ankle?” I ask, walking up to her and looking at the brace she’s still wearing.
A piercing scream fills the room at the same time blinding pain blooms across my cheek.
“Fuck!” I yell, holding my hands in front of my face.
I can taste blood. Not only did she hit me, but she did it with so much force I was close to blacking out.
It takes a few blinks and a shake of my head for Jo’s concerned face to swim into my vision.
“Ezra! I’m so sorry! You scared the shit out of me!” Jo says, pulling my arm away from my face so she can look where she hit me. “Shoot. That’s bruised and swollen already.”
“Where did you learn that?” I ask, gesturing to the punching bag behind her. It would probably be more apt to point at my face, but I’m still reeling from the hit and the embarrassment of letting it happen.
“I left home when I went to college at eighteen and never went back. I was on my own, and I refused to be a statistic. So I took self-defense classes, and one teacher talked me into joining a mixed boxing and MMA gym.” Jo shrugs. “I’m not an expert at anything, but I know a little of everything.”
My story isn’t all that different. I started taking MMA classes after everything that happened, and I was forced to run.
I didn’t want to be forced into anything ever again.
Or so scared, I felt like there were no other options for me.
Meeting my friend Jasper in that little town in New Hampshire where I ran to first was lifesaving for me.
He was playing for his college baseball team, an MLB prospect, and so far in the closet he still hasn’t left.
Jasper grew up in a small-minded town and went to an equally small-minded college where hazing wasn’t banned and being gay was the worst crime a person could commit.
He was terrified of being outed, and I was terrified of being found.
We became fast friends. I told him everything.
He was just so easy to talk to. It was his suggestion to drive the hour into Vermont to train in Krav Maga.
My dad taught us how to shoot a range of weapons in the dense forest surrounding the town.
It was a time in my life when I was happy and grateful for where I was, but hurting so much from missing Maverick that it almost overshadowed everything else.
“But kickboxing is my favorite,” Jo says, executing a perfect roundhouse kick to the bag. “Let me go grab you some ice.” I don’t respond, just watch her run up the stairs.
Everything I learn about this woman just makes it more obvious why Maverick is with her.
I hate her because she makes it impossible to hate her.
I told myself I was too busy this week to really interact with her, but if I’m being honest with myself, it was to avoid a situation like this.
One where I’m literally and figuratively punched in the face by her.
Thinking about Jasper has me calling him as I ice my face outside on the back patio. Someone who weighs about as much as a large poodle should not be able to pack that kind of heat behind her fist. I hiss as I adjust the ice pack.
“Did you just hiss at me? I’m not really into snake roleplay, but I can try it for you, Ezzy baby.”
I roll my eyes even though Jasper can’t see me. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again.”
“Because I’m rich, handsome, and talented with a bat. It saddens me I have to remind you,” Jasper says, humor lacing his words. I can picture his stupid smirk with the dimples that women go crazy over. Too bad none of them ever had a chance, and they didn’t even realize it.
“I thought you would be worried about me disappearing on you, but I guess I was wrong. I’ll go now,” I threaten without heat.
This is our game. It’s how we tell if the other is okay without coming right out and asking the question.
I made that mistake within earshot of his college teammates once, and they teased him mercilessly about having a boyfriend for the rest of the very long season.
Imagine caring about another man, platonically or not, being something worth being made fun of over. Men are the fucking worst.
“You’re like a cockroach,” Jasper laughs.
“I started my day with a punch to the face and now this? I need a new best friend,” I grumble.
“Who punched you in the face? That hockey player you replaced me with?” Jasper isn’t joking. He’s been pretty jealous of my friendship with Declan. Or the friendship I had with Declan, anyway. I don’t know where we stand.
“Jo,” I admit. There’s a long pause before Jasper laughs so hard I have to pull the phone away from my ear. He doesn’t even know she stabbed me. Which he will never know if this is his reaction to a punch.
“She came to one of my games. She’s not someone you should mess with. I got big fuck around and find out vibes from her.”
I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Yeah, yeah. Big sighs from a big, angry boy.”
“Jasper,” I groan. He chuckles like the little shit he is.
“Yes, Daddy?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. I’m hanging up.”
“I’m kidding! Tell me what’s going on with you that you went dark.
” Jasper’s tone is more subdued. He knows me well enough to know I wouldn’t disappear without telling him for no reason.
It’s something that I always found to be a luxury in my friendship with him that I didn’t get to have with everyone else.
I sigh again but unload everything onto my friend.
The last time we spoke was right before I went to meet up with everyone at Jason’s house.
I leave out the stab wound in my leg that’s still healing.
I took the stitches out myself yesterday.
Jo glared at me the entire time after I declined her suggestion to go into town and have Darren do it.
“So you’re stuck with the woman Maverick left you for? You can always come back to Nashville. We can pick up where we left off,” Jasper teases.
“You couldn’t handle me,” I tease right back.
Being able to get everything off my chest has me feeling lighter.
Jasper and I were never anything but friends.
There was a short period of time where he admitted to having a crush on me, but quickly realized that I only had feelings for one person and that he probably only had a crush on me because I was the only gay man he knew.
“You’re not wrong there, Ezzy baby.”
“What do I do, Jas? I haven’t felt this stuck and helpless in a long ass time.” Being vulnerable with Jasper has always been easy. He never once judged me, and that’s something I’ll always be grateful to him for.
“Your dad is still saying he has no way to contact Kai?”
I groan, leaning back in the Adirondack chair. “That’s what he’s saying, but there’s no way he doesn’t know where Kai is. He may have been my shadow all these years, but he’s had eyes on Kai, too. Plus, he was very calm when we talked yesterday.”
“I hate to say it because it isn’t immediately helpful to you, but you should be patient. Gavin is always at least two steps ahead. I’m convinced he has one of those brain zapper things that makes people forget aliens exist.”
I snort. “He keeps it in his sock drawer.”
“I knew it!”
“This fucking sucks,” I say, sobering again. “Maverick was right there. Literally within my reach, and now he’s gone.”
“I know, Ez. This thing is coming to a head. It’ll be over soon, and then you and Maverick can ride off into the sunset.”
“Unlikely, considering the perfect blonde bombshell living in my house,” I complain.
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you have a thing for her, too.”
I scoff, which just makes Jasper laugh.
“I have to get to practice. Try being nice.”
“I don’t want to.”
Jasper laughs harder. “Love you, Ezzy baby. Talk soon!” Then he’s gone.
I stare out at the horizon long enough for the sun to fully rise and my empty stomach to become impossible to ignore. I’m just about to stand up when I hear the sliding of the glass door opening.
“I made you this,” Jo says, handing me something green in a glass. “I’m really sorry about your face.”
“Don’t be. I need to learn to stop scaring you.” I take a sip of my drink and almost spit it out. It’s only the hopeful look on her face that makes me swallow it past every urge to gag. “Good,” I choke out.
“I’m glad. I wasn’t sure—Maverick—well, he’s the one that always made the protein shakes at home,” she says, looking a little guilty.
I’m hoping it’s because she knows her being with Maverick is a sore spot, and not that she poisoned me.
I nod, afraid that if I open my mouth to speak, the shake will come right back up, and chug the rest, hating the slimy way it feels going down my throat.
“Thanks for that,” I say when I’m mostly sure everything is going to stay put.
“Of course,” she says, taking the glass from my hand and turning to the door.
“Hey, Bambi,” I say, stopping her. “I have a few things I need to do, but do you want to spar later?” Jo faces me, eyes wide with surprise.
“I don’t think we can afford to be rusty,” I add hastily.
I can’t decide if I want to keep hating her or try to like her.
Maybe spending more time with her will help me figure out my feelings towards her.
“Yeah. I’d like that,” she says, smiling and practically skipping back into the house. Her reaction seems over the top for her until I realize I just gave her permission to kick my ass.
Shit.