6. JAXON
6
JAXON
A sick satisfaction courses through my veins, invading every cell of my body. Now that I’m certain I’ve ruined Logan’s day and possibly more than that, I can get on with my workout. Because fuck him. I hope his girlfriend tells him exactly what happened after he and that other chick got hauled out of the basement. Poor guy was trying to warn Rya about me, I think. Too bad he never got the chance. From the messages, I can’t be sure what’s going on over there on their end. First, Rya’s roommate texted her phone, then Logan, himself. And boy had he been hot once he realized it was me. Fuckin’ hilarious, really.
I stash both my phone and Rya’s in my duffel and jam it into my locker before turning around to find Alexander Simms waiting for me. “Who were you texting just now? You’ve got this look on your face.” Alexander—don’t call him Alex—is the catcher I practice with most. We both made the team last year and gravitated toward each other from day one. He’s got a cool, level head to balance out my sometimes-volatile temperament. And it’s really fucking important when I get out there on the mound to pitch that I have someone who knows how to handle my idiosyncrasies.
I can’t help the laughing smirk that makes its way to my lips. “Tri-Beta did one of those Friend and a Fifth challenges again. Fuckin’ hilarious. And I was texting the girl I was tied to all night.”
“Wait a sec. You subjected yourself to that? No one willingly does that shit again once they’ve experienced it.” He punches my arm as we make our way from the locker room and down the hall. “I thought you knew better. Coach’ll kill you if he finds out.”
He’s right. Coach Kimball doesn’t like his players to get too crazy during the lead-up to baseball season or at any time during. Pulling open the heavy door, we enter the gym. There aren’t many people here today, but enough that I keep my voice low as we pass them. I roll my eyes. “Stop trying to mom me, man. I’m good. Not even hungover. I’m here, aren’t I? And it’s not even a required practice.”
Alexander heads directly to the leg press, adjusting the weight on it to suit him. “Well, thank fuck for small favors, I guess,” he grunts out before straddling the inclined seat. He puts both feet on the plate, pressing the weight up and down in a slow, rhythmic fashion as he studies me. “I suppose you’ll sweat all that alcohol out. What’d you end up with this time? Tequila? Whiskey?”
“Rum—and the hottest girl in the room.” I wriggle my brows at him.
“Hol-y shit. Well, I guess I can’t fault you for that, can I?” His eyes narrow on me. He chuckles. “And now I know why you put yourself through tha—” He jerks to a stop, letting the weights fall with a loud crash. “Wait a sec. Isn’t your friend Trip the president over there this year?”
I shoot him a sly grin, then give a shrug as if I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about before I straddle the weight bench beside him.
“You fuckin’ dog. Got him to hook you up. Nice .” But then only a moment later, Alexander’s astute eyes have focused intently on something behind me. “Um, who is that?”
Turning around, Logan barrels toward me, his face an angry thundercloud. I get to my feet and cross my arms over my chest, taking on a Come at me stance.
Stopping about a foot away, his jaw twitches as he glares at me. I stare right back at him, and where his eyes blaze fire, mine are deathly cold. My favorite thing is to antagonize him with kindness. In public… in situations kinda like this. “What’s going on, Logan?” I look around, taking note of the various athletes now watching us, including a few members of the baseball team—the team Logan and I are both on this year.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” he hisses through clenched teeth.
I raise a brow, ignoring the question, and instead step closer and swing my arm around his shoulders. “Little bro. I’m so glad to see you,” I say loudly enough for half the gym to hear me. “Have you met everyone yet?” I point toward a couple of girls. “That’s Jillian and Eliza from the track team at the pull-up bar. Oh, and over there, the tall guys? Those are Ken, Charlie, and Gary from the basketball team.” And even though I can sense the explosion coming, I jerk a thumb at the leg press. “This is one of my buddies, Alexander. Everyone, this is my little brother, Logan.”
“I am not your little brother. Take your fucking arm off me,” he grits out, eyeing the people who are definitely watching our drama unfold.
“Ah, come on, man. Didn’t you come so I could show you around like I promised?” I tug him closer to me, and finally get the reaction I was going for.
“I mean it, Jaxon. Back the fuck off!” Wrenching free of my hold, he spins and shoves me away. “I don’t know what you’re after here but stay away from Rya. She did nothing to you.” He points a finger at me. “If you hurt her?—”
There are some whispers and gasps from the people surrounding us, so I hold my hands up, shaking my head. If only he actually knew what happened. It makes me insanely happy to see him so pissed off and making a fool out of himself. I huff out a laugh. “I didn’t do a damn thing to her. Why are you so angry?”
And it’s the truth—Logan is so mad he’s vibrating with it. “Fuck you, man. Give me her phone.” His chest heaves, and my eyes flick downward in time to see his fists clench. He’s going to punch me right in the middle of the weight room if I push him any harder. And maybe that’d be satisfying, but… I can do better.
My brow furrows, and I wet my lips as my gaze bounces around to those watching, shooting them a this-dude-is-psycho look. “I was going to bring it to her. Your girlfriend was not doing so hot, so I picked it up on our way out.”
“So you left with her.” His lips pinch together, and his jaw twitches as he folds his arms over his chest.
“I did.” I gesture with a curl of my fingers that he should follow me. “The phone’s in my locker. Right this way. I can show you around if you want.” I walk off without a backward glance, but I feel his eyes burning twin holes in my back as I wind my way through various pieces of exercise equipment, then exit, heading out to the main hallway, not bothering to hold the door for him.
Logan slams out a few seconds later. “You’d better not be fucking with me.”
I spin around, my eyes wide. “You want Rya’s phone, don’t you?” Continuing down the hall, I turn and push open the door to the locker room. Thankfully, there’s only one guy sitting on the bench tying his athletic shoes, and when the two of us walk in, I jut my chin toward him. “Take off, would ya? Need some space.”
He eyes me and then the steam rolling from Logan’s ears and bobs his head. “Yeah, sure, man. Can’t wait to see your opening game,” he says as he tosses his bag into his locker and shuts it.
I nod, shooting him a smile. “Oughta be a good one.”
Logan rolls his eyes at me as the guy slips past, exiting the large room. “The phone, please.”
I take a minute to open my locker, then root around in my duffel. “Here.” I chuck it at him, then huff out a laugh as he almost fumbles the catch. “Sorry, I forgot you’re supposed to be a pitcher, not a catcher.”
“Fuck you, man.” He shoots me a half-grin. “Glad you assume you’re pitching in that first game, by the way. Might be smart to wait until practices get rolling, don’t you think? It’s not your decision, either way. And we both know I’m just as good as you. Possibly better. ”
I ignore his barb, instead going for the jugular. “So, did you enjoy Rya being matched with me for Friend and a Fifth?” I throw him a laughing wink and wait for the explosion. When he still hasn’t gone off several seconds later, my brows raise. The amount of self-control he’s exhibiting is rather impressive. Back when we were living in the same house, I used to be able to get under his skin a whole lot easier than this.
Logan stares evenly at me while taking several steadying breaths. “I just wanna know… why didn’t you come find me if she passed out?” He pauses to exhale hard, pinning me with his eyes. “Did you realize she ended up back in the athletic dorm, but in someone else’s room?” He takes a step toward me as he waits for me to answer. “Why’d you let her drink so much of your bottle?”
Disregarding his questions, I shrug. “I’ve got news for you. Rya’s a little pistol. She might give off the illusion of a pretty little ballet dancer, but she’s headstrong as hell.” I snicker. “She does what she wants. I’m surprised you don’t know that, considering she’s your girl and all.”
I wonder if Logan told Rya who I am to him. That’d make things more interesting. I wet my lips. “As for the long series of questions you fired at me, I didn’t come get you because I didn’t think you’d want me to interrupt whatever you had going on with your friend. Looked like you were still fighting over who was going to finish your fifth. It’s not like you were waiting anxiously at the top of the stairs for your girl.” My lips twitch. “She doesn’t realize that, does she?”
“The fuck, Jaxon,” he hisses, his bold blue eyes boring into mine. “If you fucking touched her—” Rage pours off Logan, and I swear he looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel in his head, he’s so livid.
It makes me so fucking happy, I smile, drawing in an amused breath. “Calm down”—I pause, getting in his face—“ dickweed . I thought we were brothers.” I cock my head to the side. “And brothers share shit all the time. No big deal, right?” My chest rises with my chuckle. “I’ve gotta admit, Rya was pretty wild at the party last night. Sweet girl, though. Especially when I slipped my tongue between her thighs.”
As expected, he launches himself at me, his full weight knocking me into the lockers at my back. It steals the breath from my lungs, as does the punch I take to the gut. Gasping for air, I shove against his chest with everything I have, and he stumbles backward. His ass hits the floor, and it’s on. I leap on top of him, straddling his torso. My arms shoot out, trying to grab him so I can wrestle him into submission, but he’s having none of that. He dodges me, then bucks me off him.
First, I have the advantage, then he does. We trade back and forth, both of us furiously attacking the other. Logan isn’t holding back at all. He weighs more than he did the last time we did this, and definitely has a lot more muscle. In the midst of the frenzied fight, our eyes connect. His are trained on me, so full of torment and anger, I almost feel bad for him. Grunts and muttered expletives fill the room as we go right back to grappling on the floor.
“Holy shit.” An unknown voice reaches my ears, but the person attached to it is gone before I can whip my head around to see if I recognize them. I get a fist to my jaw for my trouble, which makes me deliver a string of curses that would make the filthiest sailor proud.
“If I find out you assaulted her, you’re done, motherfucker. Dead.”
“Told you I didn’t do anything to her she didn’t want. Maybe if you were giving her what she needed, she wouldn’t have come to me so willingly. Ever. Thought. Of. That?” Those last four words are punctuated with quick strikes to his gut. “She fuckin’ begged me for it.” We roll again, and my breath heaves from me as he nails me on the chin. A metallic taste fills my mouth. Fuck. Bit my goddamn tongue.
“Won’t let you touch her ever again,” he gasps out, his breathing labored as he puts a hand to my throat and squeezes. His grip is brutally tight, and with my hand on his chest, I feel the growl rip from his body as well as hear it. “Never again.”
The door to the locker room slams open, the sound like a shot ricocheting around the room. “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on in here?” a voice shouts right before whoever it is drags Logan off me. I blink, giving my head a hard shake to clear the remnants of the darkness that was about to take me under.
Halfway across the room, Coach Kimball grunts loudly as he attempts to subdue my stepbrother. “Cut this shit out right now,” he bellows.
“Get off me!”
If my face didn’t hurt, I’d laugh. Or smirk. Something . Poor asshole has no idea who is restraining his arms.
“The fuck I will, son.” Coach spins Logan around, smacking him into the wall behind them. It’s hysterical the moment my stepbrother realizes exactly who he’s been fighting and who he’s yelled at. I can see Coach’s raised brow as he cuts Logan down with his pissed off stare.
The look of regret on Logan’s face is worth every punch we’d exchanged. He winces, his eyes closing. “Sorry, sir.”
“Damn right you’re going to call me sir. Come with me. Now.”
He deflates at those words, the fight literally going out of him. “Yes, sir.” Coach lets him go, then glances back at me. “I wanna talk to you, too, Jaxon. Be waiting outside my office in ten minutes.”
“Of course. I’ll be there.” I slide my tongue over my bottom lip and when he turns around, I give Logan a feral blood-stained grin. “I hope we can work things out, man. See you at practice tomorrow.”
He shakes his head without a word, following Coach out, his head hanging, shoulders slumped. Ah, so dejected. Poor guy.
And that’s when I spot Rya’s phone on the floor all the way across the room under a bench. I throw back my head, a rough chuckle leaving my lips. Well, that’s just fucking handy, isn’t it?