Chapter 12
Right hook, left hook, kick. Right hook, left hook, kick.
I repeat the motions over and over, waiting to feel some relief, but none comes.
I’ve been wound tighter than one of the rattlesnakes in the field since this morning.
Every time I start to unwind, I’m reminded of my conversation with Jaxon this morning.
I could feel John’s observant gaze on me all night, and not just his.
Rae had clocked my discomfort from across the breakfast table.
She cornered me as we strolled through the flea market outside of town earlier, but I brushed off her concern.
I didn’t feel like rehashing my morning activities, especially not in a place where the town gossips had ears everywhere.
Mrs. Daniels couldn’t wait to get the next juicy piece to talk about with her friends over tea, and if one of her lackeys heard I was out with Jaxon this morning, they’d run straight to her.
My time with Jaxon had been fine…at first. We met at Celestia Eatery, a small diner in town, and went through the normal topics: work, health, life updates, and family.
But as soon as there was a lull in the conversation, he took the opportunity to ask the question he’d really wanted to ask when he saw me at the coffee shop days before.
“So.” He cleared his throat, wiping his mouth. “What’s the deal with that guy?”
“What guy?” I asked, even though I knew exactly who he meant.
“Big bulky dude…He was with you the other day. That your boyfriend or something?”
“Why?” It came out snappier than I meant.
Jaxon shrugged, using his straw to stir what was left of the iced coffee in his glass. “I’m just curious. Way he acted, seemed like more than just a friend.”
I scoffed. “Jax, that’s—”
“So, you’re not dating him?”
“That’s none of your business, Jaxon.”
“A guy can’t be curious?”
No.
“Look, I’m just checking on a friend.”
Checking on a friend, my ass. I rolled my eyes.
“He one of those wrestlers or something?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “He’s a friend from work.”
“Just a friend?” A sly smirk crossed Jaxon’s features as he placed the straw on his tongue.
As much as I’d like to say otherwise, I can’t.
That’s exactly what Brooks said the other night.
He wants to be friends…just friends. But the way he kissed me last night at the Taco Drop was the opposite of how you treat someone who’s just a friend.
He and Brody were gone by the time I found the others.
Raelynn told me they left before midnight to go back home, but I knew that was only partially true.
“Not that it matters, but yes, he’s just a friend.”
For now. No, for good. I can’t risk screwing things up at EWE, and getting involved with another wrestler seems like a fast track to derailing my career before it ever truly gets started, especially if that wrestler is John “Brooks Taylor” Brooks.
Jaxon’s following huff ground away at my nerves. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to see just how far he could push before I exploded.
I sighed. “I’m going to regret this, but what?”
“He just seemed really into you, is all. For just a friend,” Jaxon said. “You fucking him?”
I practically spat the drink of hot coffee I’d taken. “What is wrong with you?”
He laughed. “That’s not a no.”
I stared at him for a brief moment before I shook my head, running my finger over the rim of my coffee mug. “Why did you really want to meet up, Jax?”
“Catch up.” He shrugged.
“That’s all?” I asked, shocked by the lack of typical Jaxon charm and decorum I’d become so accustomed to over the years.
“And maybe to get under his skin a little.” Jaxon’s lips pulled into the devilish smirk I had come to know all too well over the years, and it made me sick to my stomach. “You should’ve seen the way he looked when I suggested you and I hang out. You’d have thought I’d stolen his favorite toy.”
Unbelievable. Why had I agreed to this? Oh, right, because I was trying to prove a point to myself and John. Instead, I was only reminded why I had ended things with Jaxon for good in the first place.
“You haven’t changed one bit,” I said with a soft laugh.
“Never said I did, Sweetheart.” Jaxon shrugged and popped a bite of egg into his mouth.
The pet name sounded bitter when he said it and made my skin crawl. It was completely different from the way it rolled silky smooth off John’s tongue, gently caressing my skin as it wrapped around me.
With one final roundhouse kick to the heavy bag, I plant both feet on the ground and slump forward against it.
Taking a deep breath, I push away from the bag, ready to start another set of reps, but I’m interrupted by a soft chuckle. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
My head whips toward the loft door, where the same man who has consumed my thoughts stands with an amused smirk. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“From the beating that thing just took, I’d say your date didn’t go well,” John says and steps a few feet inside.
He folds his arms over his chest, glancing around at the converted gym.
It’s nothing fancy, just a small part of the hay loft Papá had walled off and added a window air conditioner to give us kids somewhere to weight train or work out when the weather was shit.
He even installed a mirror with a ballet bar on one of the walls so I could work on my form for cheerleading and dance.
“It wasn’t a date.” I take a sip of water and tighten my ponytail before craning my neck side-to-side, earning a crack of relief on both sides.
“No?”
I check the tape on my wrists even though I know it’s still in place. “No,” I say, planting my feet and raising my hands, geared for another round.
“Wanna talk about it?” His words cement my feet to the ground.
“Do I want to talk about it?” I ask, and find him a few steps closer now. “With you?”
“We’re friends, right?” John shrugs. “Friends tell each other about their ‘not dates.’” His use of air quotes around the words makes me roll my eyes.
Maybe so, but not us. We’re not those friends. Imagine telling him the real reason Jax had invited me to coffee…The thought of having to admit he was right and that it had been a setup is humiliating. Jaxon only invited me to get underneath John’s skin, and that got under mine.
I swipe my tongue over my teeth and turn back to the bag. “It was just coffee.”
“You seem pretty tense for just coffee.” He’s closer now.
I can feel the weight of his presence at my back.
The tug of that invisible string begs me to turn around.
The same pull I’ve felt every time I’m around him, the same one I felt that first night at Ash it’s not soft or slow.
It’s hard and passionate, possessive almost, pulling my desire for him to the forefront of my mind.
He bends his knees slightly, slides his hands under my ass, and lifts my feet off the ground, wrapping my legs around his waist. My back hits the mirrored wall, and I gasp at the cold glass in contrast to my burning skin.
“Savannah,” he breathes out. His forehead falls against mine, and when his eyes open, I get lost in his endless sea. There are so many words behind those eyes, but he settles for: “You have too many clothes on.”
“Do something about it, then.”
His eyes darken at the challenge, but he doesn’t lean in like I expect him to. The muscles of his throat contract, and he searches my face. What he’s looking for, I’m not sure, but if it’s any signs of uncertainty, he won’t find any.
My right hand clenches the fabric of his sweater as my left slides up his chest, gliding around the side of his neck, and I pull his mouth to mine. The soft moan that escapes him sends a shock through my system, straight to my core.
He lifts my shirt over my head before attaching his lips to my shoulder.
My head falls back against the glass, and a moan fills the air when he undoes the front clasp of my sports bra.
His hand kneads the flesh of my right breast before he bends down to capture my nipple with his mouth.
His tongue swirls around the bud, sucking greedily, every so often letting his teeth graze the skin.