A PART OF ME GENUINELY hoped that after one afternoon of tormenting me, Chance would have better things to do than show up for his subsequent appointments. I was mistaken. The other part of me—the professional part—prayed that he’d stick with it.
God, it was eight years ago. Couldn’t we both just move on? Or at least pretend like it?
It would be a lie to say he was the only one struggling with that…
Yeah, the man was still hot as all get-out, but so what? I’d thought that about countless guys since we’d broken up.
“Surprised to see me?” He grinned and my frown deepened. Was it that obvious?
“Thought you might have better things to do.”
“Better things than watching your sweet ass all afternoon while pissing you off? I don’t think so.” One hand held his gym bag, the other had his thumb hooked in the waist of his gym shorts. It was an exercise in and of itself to keep my eyes from straying down to the front of them, wondering if I was going to get a second viewing today of what lay underneath.
“I’m not upset.” The smile that spread over my face was the expressive version of ‘I can’t believe it’s not Butter.’ Looked like a smile, felt like a smile, tasted like a smile… but it was still one-hundred percent fake because I was one-hundred percent frustrated.
My body began humming the second he walked through the doors. My sex clenching traitorously. Eight years. And one look at the man’s dick, a few words of innuendo, and Niagara Falls opened up between my thighs.
“So, today, I’d like to start you with some stretching exercises and really determine a baseline for your range of motion.” My fake smile punctuated my instructions. Stay professional. And stop thinking about his dick.
And how it wants you.
Stop it.
I spun and walked towards the mats, talking as I walked. “How are you feeling after yesterday’s session?” Glancing over my shoulder as I spoke. He was following me. Too closely.
“Fine.”
I stayed standing, pointing where I wanted him to sit. “We’ll start with hips and then work down to your knees and ankles.”
“Pretty sure my hips have a good range of motion, J-bird.” His words, the glimmer in his eyes, everything about him radiated sex.
“Please, sit,” I instructed with a smile on my face. I didn’t have a choice.
He stepped onto the mat, pausing right in front of me, his face coming within a breath of mine. “They have an even better range when I’m inside of you. You know, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl and your p—“
“Chance!” I caught his grin as I turned and took a few steps towards the other end of the mat. I needed space before I combusted—or climaxed—on the spot.
Finally complying with my request, he sat on the mat and listened as I went through the stretches that I wanted him to do.
“You miss Texas?”
My gaze jerked up from my iPad, startled by the question. He’d stopped putting pressure on his leg, waiting for my answer. “Keep stretching.”
“Keep talking.”
I bit back a groan. “Sometimes. Mostly my family.” His arms tightened around his leg again, stretching his external rotators.
“Why’d you come back?”
Was it going to be twenty questions every day with him?
“Because this is where I want to work.”
“You have a boyfriend?”
I pursed my lips. “None of your business. Do you have a girlfriend?” My retort was meant to be tit-for-tat, only a nagging part inside of me actually wanted to know.
He laughed and I knew I was in for a treat with his answer. “Depends on how you define ‘girlfriend,’ but if you mean like you and I were, then fuck no. I learned that lesson. However, if you’re wondering if I’ve kept my dick in my pants all these years pining after you and waiting for your return… well, the answer is still the same. Fuck no.”
“I-I wouldn’t think that,” I stammered. I hadn’t thought that. Still… hearing its truth hurt.
“You miss me, J-bird?” His sneer told me that he wasn’t serious.
“No.” Narrowing my eyes, I kept my tone flat with faux indifference. “You miss me?” Same retort. I should have learned the first time that responding like this was a bad idea.
His muscles rippled underneath the cold harshness of his voice. “Jessa, I’ve probably fucked every pussy between here and Denver since you left, I haven’t had time to even give you a second thought.” He paused, propping his elbows on his knees, eyes glinting up at me. “Which is what you should have done when considering coming back here—not given it a second thought.”
An unhealthy mixture of anger and jealousy rolled in my stomach. I shouldn’t be jealous. We’d been over eight years ago. Eight years was a long time to get over someone. Especially since we’d ended because of me. I had no right to be jealous of who he’d slept with since. Hell, I’d slept with people since. But for some reason, I was.
I couldn’t keep the smile going any longer. Irritated defiance seeped into my body.
“You don’t own this place, Chance. This is my home, too. I grew up here. I have friends here—people here—that I did miss. You aren’t going to make me regret it.”
“You miss Frost?” His question was refined rage steeped in betrayal.
Goosebumps sprayed over me like buckshot. It stung—the memory of what I’d done to him—but not as much as the look in his eyes that said he would never forget it.
Asshole.
My mouth burned like I’d rinsed it with a shot of Jack—and then the damn thing added fuel to the fire.
“What if I do?” How does it feel, Chance?
I didn’t. I wanted his reaction. I wanted him to know he wasn’t the only one who could play the hating game. I also wanted to see, if for only a second, that he could want me more than he wanted to hate me.
There was no way in hell that I missed Frost. And minutes from now, I would regret my emotional outburst. But right now? I refused to be the only jealous one on the mat.
For seconds, the dry anger hung between us ready to spark into a wildfire at any moment. I let myself dive into the blue depths of his eyes, searching beneath the surface of loathing for something more; instead, I drowned.
“Well, you’re welcome to him. This time, just give me a heads up if you’re going to fuck him in the kitchen so that I can make sure I’m not there.” He stood. The sneer on his face was the only thing breaking through the hardness of his expression. “Unless you want me to watch; I’m down for that nowadays.”
Jessa Lynn Madison. Do. Not. Punch. Him.
“Screw you, Chance.”
He laughed and picked up his bag. “Oh, you will, J-bird. And you won’t fucking miss Frost while you do it.”
“Where are you going?” I raised my voice as he turned and began to walk away. “We aren’t finished here.” He didn’t turn. “Ok, fine. Go change. I’ll meet you in the pool room in five minutes. Don’t make me have to come find you!”
His response? A wave over his shoulder. What was that supposed to mean?
With a huff, I spun on my heel, practically tripping since I was on the mat and my sneaker didn’t slide that easily. I made for the aquatherapy room, hoping there would be moderate privacy inside.
Sweet Lord. Was I crying?
I groaned, berating myself for what had happened out there. This is exactly what happened when I got emotional. I didn’t think. Especially around Chance. Of course, I didn’t miss Nick. More than that, one of the reasons I had come back here was to finally tell Chance the truth… about everything… which meant the last thing I would want to do is let him think that I cared about Nick Frost.
No, I laughed sadly, the last thing I wanted to do was let Chance think that I cared about him.
The funny thing was that I’d been ok for a long time. Even after moving back here—unless I went over to their house—I really was fine. It had been eight years. We both should have
moved on. We should be able to talk and interact like normal people.
Wrong.
Maybe if seeing him hadn’t made those years evaporate into nothing… Maybe if seeing him hadn’t made my heart ache and my body burn in places that I’d forgotten existed… Maybe then, it would have been a possibility.
But for eight years, I’d forgotten how consuming his presence was to me. I wasn’t prepared for my physical or emotional reaction. He tried to goad me and in classic Jessa fashion, I returned with just as much fire. Anything he did, I returned the same: Anger, but especially passion.
God. I buried my head in my hands. Our arguments… they’d been so fucking hot. Forget make-up sex. We’d fucked while we fought. And then again after.
I didn’t want this flood of memories, reminding me how things had been with Chance. Crazy. Irrational. Uninhibited. Incredible.
The desire to have it all again made me double over.
No. Not happening.
Bent over with my head upside down, I let the blood flow back into my brain. The next five weeks couldn’t be like this. I needed to go apologize for what I said and apologize for what I’d done to him. And then we needed to come to some sort of understanding so that the sparks that flew between us didn’t burn this building—this whole town—down around us.
Where the hell was he?
New waves of frustration rolled through me as I stalked back into the gym where there was no sign of him. I walked towards the front of the room, glancing out to see his Cherokee still in the lot.
If he didn’t think that I wouldn’t come and get him in the men’s locker room, he had another thing coming.
Pushing open the door, I hesitantly walked inside, not wanting to freak out any other potential inhabitants. The locker room was set up with wooden benches to the left and right, surrounded by walls of lockers; a hallway led back with showers branching off down the right, and then another matching locker area all the way at the end.
My head jerked up as I heard soft, wet, slapping noises. Was he in the shower?
“Chance?”
I came to the showers. No, no one was in any of the showers, but the noises were louder.
Determined, I made my way to the end of the hall.
Bad idea, Jessa. Bad idea.
As soon as I cleared the hallway wall, I found Chance. And what was making those noises.
Monroe was sitting on the bench, facing the wall away from me. Chance was standing in front of her, his shorts not even all the way down, holding her head steady as he shoved his cock into her mouth. Even though I could see the tears streaming down her face from taking him so deep, her hands digging into his ass told me that she was definitely right where she wanted to be.
And I was right where I didn’t want to be. And Chance… well, I was right where he wanted me.
He’d been waiting for me. His gaze not even focused on Monroe, but on the end of the hall, waiting for my arrival. He arched an eyebrow at me as I stared—stupidly frozen in shock.
I swallowed over the lump in my throat.
He pulled out of her mouth, Monroe’s gasp for air breaking the silence.
“Sorry. Looks like I forgot about you again.” The other girl’s head tilted slightly in my direction, a smile spreading over her face.
Bullshit. But if that’s how he wanted to play it, he could go right ahead.
Attempting my best casual smile, I shrugged and said, “Too bad you couldn’t forget enough to not request me for your therapy.”
I was only able to enjoy a second of Monroe’s shocked and offended face before I turned and walked away, the faked indifference on my face melting like snow as I stalked angrily towards the exit. The thing about the locker rooms, there was only one light switch—and it was right by the door. Depending on what he ran into on his way out, I could be making more work for myself, but I didn’t care.
I flicked the switch.
“Jessa!” I ignored the echo of my name as it was cut off by the door shutting behind me and shutting them in the darkness.
“Sorry, Chance. Looks like I forgot that you were in there…” I grumbled sarcastically underneath my breath.
Let him enjoy finding his way out of that dark hole.
“You still look surprised to see me, J-bird.”
The good mood I’d been in from my morning appointment quickly evaporated into sheer anxious determination. Today, I told myself, I was better prepared for him. The reality was that I was only as prepared as my ability to control my unfortunate attraction to the asshole.
“Well, I know you’ve been very forgetful lately—especially with anything involving me. Thought your appointment might have slipped your mind…”
The gym was busier today. Besides Kyle and Monroe—who’d given me a dirty smirk when I walked in this morning (the kind that made her look a little bit like a ferret)—there were two other therapists and two personal trainers that I hadn’t met yet. The room moved like a well-oiled machine with everyone taking turns rotating through the various pieces of equipment and stretching space.
“Not after yesterday.” He grinned.
Retaliation for yesterday’s whole locker room light situation was expected.
“We’ll start with some strength exercises and then repeat some of the stretches we did yesterday.” I walked away from him before that gaze frayed my focus.
“Hey, Jessa,” Kyle said with a big smile as I walked by. He’d been out this morning so this was the first I’d seen him all day. I smiled and said ‘hey’ back with a little more encouraging enthusiasm than I should have. Using Kyle to get back at Chance was not a good idea. Chance’s gaze burned a hole in the back of my head.
“Is that the boyfriend?”
“Still none of your business.” Bad Jessa. I couldn’t help it.
“Seems like a tool,” he said with a laugh.
“Well, he would fit right in with my type then, wouldn’t he?” Stopping at the open quad machine, I turned to meet his icy stare, folding my arms over my chest.
Chance just grinned at me and I felt a twinge in my stomach. I wanted him to be jealous. Or angry. Or something. But he wasn’t.
“How many, J-bird?” he asked, climbing onto the seat.
“I’ll let you know when you get there.” I adjusted the weight on the machine to only thirty pounds—pretty light, something to warm up nice and easy with. I struggled not to shift underneath his gaze.
“You still working out?” he wondered, positioning himself on the seat.
“Of course.” I stood and motioned for him to start.
“You look good.” His eyes trailed over me, lips rising in a slight smile as I felt my nipples tighten. Even with my bra on, they were probably visible.
My eyes narrowed. What exactly was he getting at?
“Thank you. I think.”
“Don’t trust a compliment?” Ten reps. Eleven.
“Not from you,” I retorted.
The smile that earned me began the familiar ache in my core—the one that caused me to make poor decisions.
“Are you going to increase the weight?”
“Not today.”
His mouth thinned. Forget ‘Pride,’ his nickname should have been ‘Impatient.’ His whole life he’d been like this—pushing himself right to the brink and sometimes, right over it (to his own detriment).
Our whole relationship had been like this—pushing us in deep—so deep, so fast that we hadn’t been able to make it back to the surface for air. And you can only drown in desire for so long before you have to breathe in reality.
We made our way through the machines in relative silence except for intermittent instructions and curt questions.
Standing up from the calf machine, I nodded towards the mats so we could finish his appointment with some stretching. His body shimmered with sweat and my body reacted accordingly. He smiled and instead, stepped in front of me—standing too close for comfort.
“What are the chances you are just as w
et as I am?” he rasped and I sucked in a breath. “Pretty good, I’d say.”
I glared at him as my sex dripped with the truth of his words. There was no world in which my body would not cry and scream and beg to be one with his. Accepting that was the first stage in being able to deal with it accordingly.
He smiled and sat down on the mat, waiting for my next instructions.
Ignoring the various other images flipping through my mind of positions that I’d like to instruct him in, I took a deep breath and knelt in front of him.
“Lay on your back, one leg straight, the other leg bent.” His eyebrow rose, but he did as I said. “I’m helping you today,” I clarified, reaching for the leg that was still bent. Positioned between his legs, I grabbed the shin of the leg that was still bent, lifting it and pushing his knee back towards his chest.
My head jerked up as he hissed.
“You ok? Is that too far?”
“You know, J-bird, this position seems pretty familiar…” Oh no. Chance grinned as I felt heat rising in my face. “Except usually I was where you are and instead of stretching your leg, I was stretching that tight fucking pu—Fuck!” He broke off with a curse as I pushed his leg further back, stretching the muscle to the point where it took his attention off of me.
Well, at least I’d found one way to shut him up.
Swallowing my distaste for the words, I interjected, “So, how is living with Nick?”
Using Frost as a barrier was a cheap shot, but it was the only safe bet I had to get the desire out of his eyes; the only thing stronger than it was his anger.
My message was clear: discussions about our past were not happening.
“Great.” His smile hardened, gritting his teeth as I pushed on his leg and stretched the muscles even farther. “Lots of weed. Lots of women. Thinking about joining us?”
If he could still think like that, I wasn’t stretching hard enough.
“No,” I replied, leaning down on his leg with more pressure, enjoying his wince. “Are those the only plans you have for your future now?”
“Well, they seem to be working out so I don’t see any reason to change it.”
Enjoy the Ride (Winter Games Book 3) Page 5