Chapter 16 Where Happiness Resides
SIXTEEN
WHERE HAPPINESS RESIDES
Rose
I’m full of energy today. Sex and a decent sleep in Rage’s arms have me on cloud nine.
I’m a bit sore down below, but it’s a pleasant ache.
While he goes outside with the men to clean their bikes, I’m in the spare room getting some more work done on Milly’s wedding ring.
I’m carving the leaves, each one individually, shaping them up, adding fine detail to their edges, then shaping them into a ring.
It’s coming along just beautifully. It’s a timeless piece.
My thoughts go to last night. The sex was hot. I loved that he was as desperate for me as I was for him. The emotion he shared when telling me he loved me was special and something I’ll never forget.
Even though I went against my own word by getting into a relationship with Rage before fully reaching my goals, I’ve decided not to lose myself in it.
But I need to keep striving toward my goals, so after a few hours of work, I change into my workout clothes—a matching sports bra and three-quarter tights, with a loose singlet layered on top.
Pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I feel a renewed sense of determination.
When I look in the mirror, I’m glowing. I’ve changed so much since I first got to the clubhouse; I’m smiling, my eyes are brighter. I go down the stairs and out the front in search of Rage. My heart races.
Rage looks up like he can sense my presence. His eyes shamelessly roam my body, and with a wolfish grin, he throws the cloth over the bucket and rushes toward me. His arms wrap around me and he pulls me close as his lips press against mine in a firm kiss.
The catcalling from the men and the clapping makes me pull back, my cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. Rage and I smile at each other. “Have you finished cleaning your bike yet? Can you teach me how to use the equipment in the gym?”
He gives me a cheeky look. “Anything for you, my sexy cougar.”
We go inside and through the clubhouse and out the back to the gym. There’s cardio equipment at the front, machines around the outside of the room, and a boxing area at the back.
His lips quirk into a half smile.
“What?” I ask, raising a brow.
“How about I teach you how to use the equipment if you let me show you how to defend yourself?” His tone is playful yet serious.
That’s fair. I like the idea of being able to defend myself. “Okay, deal.”
“What would you like to do first?” he asks, looking around the room. “We can go through all the gym equipment, and I can show you how to use each machine.”
My thoughts scatter, bouncing between anticipation and dread. “Yes, sure.” I attempt to smile, though it doesn’t fool him.
His gaze softens. “Don’t look petrified. I’m here to help. No one will judge you.”
I believe him, but I’m also grateful we’re alone. It drowns some of my anxiety.
We go over to each piece of equipment, and he shows me how to use it. He does a few reps and then I copy him. I’m struggling to listen because I’m entranced by his body doing the movements. They need to have seats in here just so the women can watch the men work out.
I’m flustered watching Rage in his element—looking mighty fine, flexing those biceps and back muscles. I’m soaked, and it isn’t from the exercise.
“Rose.” He laughs and waves a hand in my face. “You there? It’s your turn.”
I blink a few times as I come out of the haze. “Yep, I’m here. Sorry, I got . . . distracted.”
He grins and slowly shakes his head.
“I blame you,” I use the same tone he used. “I’m getting distracted by all those muscles.” I wave a finger up and down his body for reference.
We’re at the lat pull-down machine. He stands up, giving me room, so I take a seat. I wince at him and give him puppy-dog eyes. “I kind of didn’t hear what you were saying.”
He stands behind me and gently places his hand on my upper back. “Put your feet flat on the floor and your thighs snug under the pads.”
Done.
“Keep an upright posture, chest up.”
I follow instructions, then he grabs the bar.
“Hold the bar shoulder-width apart. Palms forward with a firm grip.”
I feel his hand on my shoulder blades, and just the light touch has me shuddering.
“Before you pull, think about squeezing your shoulder blades together.”
I do as he says, and he guides me through the movement. I pull the bar down to my upper chest.
“Let the bar go up slowly with control.”
I gradually let the bar go back up.
He raises a brow. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t, but I’m definitely going to forget.” I’d be one happy woman to repeat what we just did.
“I’ll be here for you.”
And he always is.
“Self-defense time now,” he says.
I’m curious and follow him over to the boxing area.
“Now, self-defense is about staying safe, not fighting. It’s to protect yourself so you can escape.” He looks serious. “Always trust your instincts. If something feels off, it probably is. Look for exits, stay in well-lit areas, and avoid distractions if you’re walking alone.”
“You’re always doing that,” I say.
He tilts his head. “What’s that?”
“Monitoring your environment. I’ve noticed you do it every time we go out.”
“I don’t trust people outside of the club,” he replies, his voice grave. “You’re important to me, so I take extra care. All the men in the club are super vigilant. We hope there isn’t trouble around but are prepared for it.”
He glances at my feet. “Keep your feet shoulder width apart with your knees slightly bent. It gives you stability.”
I do as he suggests.
“Let’s start with something simple. For a palm strike, aim for the attacker’s nose or chin. Fingers up, and strike with the base of your palm—like this.” He demonstrates, and I copy his move.
“For an escape, if they grab you from behind, stomp on their foot, throw your head back into their face, and elbow them in the ribs.” He stands behind me, and we do the motions slowly so that I get the idea.
Once we’re finished, I say, “Thanks for showing me. Self-defense wasn’t something I gave much thought to before, but I’m more comfortable now and understand I have the ability to defend myself. It’s something I should have done after my first boyfriend hit me.”
He wraps an arm around me and kisses my temple. “We can practice every day, and I can keep showing you different moves.”
“Sounds good.”
Rage has a way of empowering me, making me feel safe. From his cheeky grin to his alpha-male attitude. I’m one lucky woman.
I hear Milly’s and Sophie’s loud voices as I sit at the kitchen counter having my breakfast smoothie with Rage. We stop talking and watch them come in and stand by the coffee machine.
“Let me take you to the bridal shop in town.” Sophie’s tone is more authoritative than suggestive.
“It’s okay,” Milly replies. She exhales. “I have my dress. I bought it online.”
Sophie snorts, unimpressed. “It’s your big day—you want something special.”
Milly shakes her head. “We’re having it here at the clubhouse. It’s only family and friends. Twitch will be wearing the same clothes he always wears, so I’m not going to look out of place.”
Sophie crosses her arms, undeterred. “Just try a few dresses on, and if you don’t like anything, I’ll let it be.”
Now it’s Rage who snorts. All eyes are on him. I chuckle under my breath as Sophie playfully narrows her eyes at him.
“Fine,” Milly relents with a sigh. “Let me have my coffee first.”
Sophie grins triumphantly, flashing her straight white teeth. “Fabulous.” She looks at me. “Did you want to come? I’ll ask the other ol’ ladies too.”
My heart flutters. Am I an ol’ lady? Am I who Rage wants to spend the rest of his life with?
I smile. “I’m in.”
“Okay, let’s meet by the front door in thirty minutes,” says Sophie.
After they grab their coffees and go, I say to Rage, “I’m thankful they’re including me. It feels good to be able to spend time with friends again.”
“I don’t know how much fun you’ll have, judging by the look on Milly’s face,” he says, smirking. “But it means a lot that you get along with them.”
They’re an easy bunch of people to get along with. The only small drama I had was with Sophie, but she was just looking out for Rage. She has pure intentions.
I go get changed and meet Sophie, Milly, Ivy, and Ava out the front. We pile into Milly’s silver convertible and she turns the music up loud. It’s a rap song by a male artist, with a catchy beat.
As we drive past the clubhouse, we see all our partners watching from the porch.
“Who wants to bet Rage follows us?” Sophie says loudly over the music.
I wouldn’t mind either way. I don’t see it as invasive; all the men just care and worry.
The convertible’s roof slides down and our hair is flying in the wind. We’re all smiles. The car speeding down the road feels freeing, exhilarating even. I can’t help but laugh as Sophie sings, trying to hit a high note, her voice cracking.
After a few songs, we get to the road that leads into town.
“I’m saving you from your bad decisions. Wedding dress shopping is a must. I bet money you’ll find the perfect dress,” Sophie says to Milly.
Milly rolls her eyes but is grinning. “I highly doubt it.”
“Not with that attitude,” Sophie says saucily.
Once we get to the store, we all walk inside. Poor Milly’s eyebrows are up high, and her eyes are bugging out of her head. She looks overwhelmed.
“Go have a look,” Sophie says, waving us in the direction of the dresses.
I follow them, then run my hand over one of the dresses, feeling the soft material under my fingertips. I’m not upset about being here, even after what I’ve been through. I guess I’m just grateful it all happened when it did or I would have never met Rage.
Ava helps Milly while Ivy and I go sit outside the changing rooms. The manager brings us all a glass of bubbly, which I happily accept.
“I heard you’re a jeweler,” Ivy says, her tone curious.
“I am,” I reply with a small smile.
She tilts her head slightly. “Do you do bracelets? I’d love to have one made for Sammy.”