by Alice Raine
It was incredible, and I did feel it, ridiculously so, almost to the point where I was tempted to say it out loud and ask him not to go. But what then? He clearly wasn’t going to change his mind about coming home with me for the night, and so I’d have to consider his option – more. I didn’t do more, literally never had in my entire life, so instead of saying anything I stayed silent and clenched my hands at my sides to stop myself reaching for him.
Marcus smiled sadly and nodded once. ‘Fine. This just isn’t going to work, Sasha. I’m sorry I interrupted your night.’ With that, he turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched and the usual spring noticeably missing from his step.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why was he so bloody stubborn? A dry laugh left my throat when I realised that he was quite probably thinking the exact same thing about me at this very moment.
As I watched him cutting through the crowd in the bar a nagging voice at the back of my head told me to call to him, stop him, and explore these strange feelings inside me, because as much as I might not like to admit it, he’d been right – I had changed over the last few months. My mind frequently wandered to him these days, and my attention was definitely focused more on him during my trips to Twist, and as a result I hadn’t pulled nearly as much as I had in the past. I just hadn’t had the inclination to spend time with another man when Marcus had been in the same room. Watching him and wondering if I could get closer had become like a challenge to me.
Now I’d had a taste of the challenge, only to be firmly thrown to the side, and it wasn’t a sensation I liked in the slightest.
Finally, he disappeared from sight, and I plopped back down into the booth and started anxiously twirling a strand of hair as I fell deeper into thought.
After sitting there for five minutes playing back how incredible his kiss had felt I found myself just as confused as I had been to start with. I’d always been so resolute in my belief that relationships could only ever lead to one thing – pain and broken hearts – but now I’d had a taste of how good it could be with Marcus, I was left feeling distinctly confused about my long-held outlooks.
CHAPTER SIX
Marcus
The weights bar landed back into the cradle with a resounding crash, and as I tried to regain my breath I stood back and ruefully looked at the load I had been lifting. One hundred and sixty kilograms. I was a regular here at the gym, and a pretty skilled weight lifter, but pressing one-sixty was pushing it, even for me. I’d needed a challenge today, though, something physically tough to consume my mind and help take my thoughts off Sasha and the kiss we’d shared last night.
It had worked, but only for the five minutes I’d been struggling with my lifting reps, and now the weights were down again I was left with aching muscles and a head full of her.
Cursing under my breath, I grabbed my water bottle for a drink and then threw it back down onto my gym bag with an irritated grunt. I’d literally never been so fixated on a woman in my entire life, but Sasha, the one woman who I couldn’t have, had taken over my mind and now seemed to reside in my head twenty-four seven.
Huffing out a breath, I stepped back to the weights rack and took hold of the bar, again twisting my grip around the roughened metal until I felt the burn of it tearing at my skin. The rack was set so that the bar was at my shoulder height, so I settled myself under it and prepared my grip on the bar, making sure my elbows were at a safe ninety-degree angle.
Thinking through each step of the process was good. It was focusing my mind into the here and now, so I continued with it.
I widened my stance a little so it was just over shoulder width, bent my knees slightly, and braced my core for the weight I was about to lift onto my shoulders. Tensing my mid-section, I breathed out and pressed the bar up above my head. I kept raising the weights until my arms were straight and my muscles were screaming at me to stop, and then I lowered the bar back down to collarbone height and set myself to repeat the action again.
Breathe. Lift. Forget about Sasha Mortimer.
And repeat.
Once I’d lifted it ten times I set the bar back in the cradle and stepped away with a tired groan. I was pushing myself too far, I knew that, but I needed the muscle stress and pain as a distraction.
God, her kiss had been in-fucking-credible. Her mouth was so soft, and the little moans of pleasure she’d made had been…
‘Fuck!’ I spun away from the weights with a loud curse and only just resisted the temptation to hit out at something, anything, in my frustration. Seeing as I was surrounded by very heavy metal things, it was just as well that I did resist, because I would no doubt have come off worse from any outbursts.
Why the hell couldn’t I get Sasha out of my mind? Closing my eyes, I finally gave in and let my evil brain go to where it wanted to. My vision was immediately flooded with images of Sasha and her blonde hair, teasing smiles, and gorgeous blue eyes.
She was beautiful, and no doubt most men’s idea of a perfect woman. A defeated sigh slipped from my lips as I allowed memories of our kiss to flood back to my mind. Her lips had accepted mine as if they were made to be together, and the groan of pleasure she’d made as I’d pressed my tongue inside her mouth had been such a fucking turn-on that my cock had felt like an aching slab of granite behind my zipper.
She hadn’t even minded when I’d held her hands behind her back. In fact, she’d arched into me enthusiastically and practically purred her agreement against my neck.
Glancing down, I growled in irritation when I realised I was standing in the middle of the gym sporting a raging hard-on. My flimsy shorts really did nothing to hide it at all, so it was just as well it was early, and the gym was deserted.
I dropped down onto the floor, took up a press-up position, and tried to divert the blood away from my cock by racking out as many reps as I could manage, grunting with each move and forcing my brain to think about something else apart from Sasha bloody Mortimer.
By the time I had reached fifty repetitions I was dripping with sweat and my shoulders were in agony but at least my cock had finally calmed again. I stood up and rolled off my stiff shoulders, then grabbed the hem of my workout vest to pull it up and wipe at the sweat on my forehead.
As I did, I caught a glimpse of my scarred torso in the mirror. Scowling, I glanced around to check I was still on my own and then lifted the vest higher and examined my reflection in the mirror. Thanks to my weekly gym sessions, I had a six pack that a lot of men would kill for, but I was fairly sure that my gym buddies wouldn’t be so keen to crave the other things that adorned my torso – my scars, and there were a lot of them.
My eyes traced the criss-cross of furrowed lines that were scattered across my stomach and then moved around to the side of my body where the deeper, more pronounced scarring was. The bright lights of the gym were particularly unforgiving, and I winced as I took in the dark purple puckered lines above my hip bone. I’d gotten so used to seeing them in the mirrors of my bathroom on a daily basis that I’d almost forgotten how horrible they were when viewed in proper lighting.
It might be just as well that things with Sasha hadn’t gone any further last night. She’d probably have taken one look at my ruined body and run for the hills. I dropped my vest down again with a grimace and moved back to the weights bar ready to punish myself again and try to force thoughts of my kiss with her from my mind once and for all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Robyn
I always found it weird when I came to the club before opening time. Bright lights illuminated the spaces that were usually filled with darkness and illicit behaviour, the dance floor was empty, and the entire premises just felt bigger, airier, and more… normal, I suppose.
The most amusing thing was always the swarm of cleaners that I found here when the doors were locked to the public. The place was literally gleaming. David Halton, the owner of Club Twist, might be a muscly tattooed guy with the rough and ready air of a biker, but the level of hygiene he demanded was top notch.
I supposed it needed to be, seeing what went on in the private rooms and dark corners.
A quick glance around the empty space seemed to indicate that Oliver wasn’t finished in his meeting with David yet, so I pulled my iPad out to do a bit of writing while I waited. I’d only just got myself settled at the bar when Alex pushed her way through the door that led to the storeroom behind the bar and came to an abrupt stop.
Our eyes met, and her features momentarily tensed as she joined me, as they frequently did. It would be fair to say that Alex and I still didn’t exactly get along; I didn’t really like her because of the fact she’d once slept with Oliver, and I suspected that she disliked me because I now slept with Oliver.
What it came down to between the two of us was jealousy, plain and simple. Although seeing as I was the one sharing my life with Oliver I always tried to be an adult about it and play nice. ‘Hey, Alex.’
She placed down the box she was carrying and greeted me with a nod. ‘Robyn.’ Her lips briefly puckered into a pout and then her eyes flickered to my engagement ring. ‘I hear congratulations are in order.’
It wasn’t exactly a glowing exclamation of good wishes, but I guess coming from Alex it was probably the best I could hope for.
I wasn’t enough of a bitch to rub it in her face, though, so I gave a small smile and nodded before tucking my hands into my lap and hiding my ring from her stare. ‘Thanks.’
Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something else, but at that moment we were joined by Oliver and David as they trotted down the stairs from the offices.
‘Evening, ladies,’ David greeted us, flashing us both a charming wink that would make a lot of women weak at the knees, but seconds later I was engulfed in the delicious scent and feel of Oliver as he swept me up into his arms and landed a kiss on my lips.
Hmm, now this was the man who made me weak at the knees.
‘Good evening, cariño.’ His words were peppered across my cheek as he kissed a trail to my lips. Alex frowned at his affection, and then dismissed us with a roll of her eyes as she walked away.
‘I’ll open up,’ she muttered, leaving us to our embrace. Maybe now we were engaged she’d finally move her attention away from him and things between the two of us would become a little less prickly.
The lights flicked off, deep booming music began to play, and then, as was always the case on a Friday night, the club was swamped with people flooding in the second the doors opened.
What had been a light, bright, clinically clean interior just seconds ago was now dark, throbbing with atmosphere and filled with that unmistakable feeling of expectation.
Frowning, I asked a question I’d been pondering this week. ‘Are we inviting Alex to the wedding?’
Oliver scoffed and shook his head. ‘No.’
‘But you want to invite everyone else who works here, right?’
‘Yes, but I haven’t forgotten how she treated you when we thought you were pregnant, Robyn. We don’t have to invite her.’
Seeing as Oliver was a part-owner of this place the club was always likely to be a feature in our lives, so having a better relationship with Alex would make things easier for everyone involved.
‘I think we should invite her. Let bygones be bygones and all that.’
Oliver looked down into my eyes. He smiled fondly and shook his head. ‘You are one of the sweetest people I have ever met.’ He dropped a kiss on my temple and gave a shrug. ‘We don’t have to decide now, do we? We can discuss the guest list at a later date,’ he said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with my idea. ‘So what time is Sasha getting here?’ He released me from his grip only to sit down on a stool and then reinstate me on his lap.
Glancing at my watch, I shrugged and snuggled closer. ‘Not sure. Any time now, I guess. I’m looking forward to seeing her.’
It had been such a busy few weeks that I hadn’t managed to see Sasha since the night Oliver had proposed to me. So much for our plan of a Thursday girls’ nights out – Sasha had cancelled last week due to a work deadline, and the week before that it had been me calling it off because Oliver and I had been attending a wedding fair.
I was so excited to see her tonight. We had so much to talk about; I needed her advice on dress shopping, flower choices, cake types… basically everything. There were so many on my favourites list that I was having a really tough time scaling down my options.
Plus, I needed to ask her an important question – I wanted her to be my bridesmaid. It wasn’t the type of thing I had wanted to ask over the phone, so I had saved my question for tonight.
Oliver also wanted Marcus to be his best man but hadn’t asked him yet, either. We were planning on asking them both tonight in a joint announcement, so having the four of us together privately would be perfect.
Marcus arrived first, grabbed a beer, and joined us with a smirk as he took in my position on Oliver’s lap. Feeling a little embarrassed, I pushed myself to standing, much to Oliver’s displeasure, but I soothed him by immediately sliding a hand around his waist.
Sasha arrived just a few minutes later. As always, she looked gorgeous; her wavy hair had been tamed into long, sleek submission with some skilful use of her straighteners, and she was wearing a short, fire engine red dress and matching lipstick.
I could never carry off a dress like that, but with Oliver’s firm grip wrapped around my hand I didn’t feel any envy at the appreciative looks she drew as she walked across the bar towards us. Marcus’s gaze was one of many that latched on to her, and I noticed he didn’t seem too keen on the stares she was attracting.
Something flickered across Sasha’s face as she broke through the crowd and saw that Marcus was with us, but then she cleared her expression and headed towards me.
I watched in horror as she slipped when her high heel hit something wet on the floor about a metre away from us. I gasped, and as Sasha’s arms briefly flailed both Marcus and I made a grab for her to stop her falling. I was too far away, but luckily, Marcus managed to place a hand on her waist and grab one of her hands to give her just enough stability to right herself.
Sasha steadied her balance and I watched with interest as she and Marcus exchanged a heated glance. Things seemed to slow down as Sasha pulled in a ragged breath, and then Marcus slid his hand from her waist but seemed to cling to her hand as if he didn’t want to let go.
Oliver nudged me in the shoulder and gave me a curious look to show that he’d also noticed the weird moment between our friends, and so I nodded and tried to work out what was going on between them.
Even as a bystander the chemistry that had sparked had been obvious to see, but as far as I was aware things between Sasha and Marcus were still just that of an awkward friendship because they were attracted to each other but wouldn’t act on it.
Sasha stared at their joined hands, and because I was watching them carefully, I saw the exact moment that my best friend shut herself off again; she lowered her eyebrows, straightened her shoulders, and started to shake her arm, trying to free her hand from Marcus’s grip.
‘I don’t need your help, Marcus.’ Her tone was acidic enough that even I winced, and poor Marcus drew in a shocked breath before his expression morphed from one of concern to a look of sour irritation quicker than I could even blink.
‘Well, excuse me for trying to be a gentleman.’
My jaw dropped open at the frostiness in both of their voices and I stared in surprise at the unexpected confrontation unravelling before my eyes. Sasha gave her arm another tug, and finally succeeded in getting her hand back. She glowered at him. ‘If I can’t touch you, then you can’t touch me, either. It goes both ways.’
Marcus’s shoulders rose, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he returned her stare just as fiercely. ‘You walked away from something good, not me, Sasha. Don’t take it out on me if I was just trying to help you.’
Before Oliver or I had even had a chance to intervene, Sasha pivoted on her toes and stormed o
ff in one direction, followed by Marcus a second later going the opposite way.
I felt like I’d just witnessed a hormone-induced strop from a teenage film and both Oliver and I stood frozen to the spot, gawking at the retreating backs of our friends. Oliver turned to me with a stunned expression on his face that matched my own astonishment. ‘Do you have any idea what that little yelling match was about?’
Shaking my head, I watched as Sasha disappeared into the ladies’ loos, and then looked up at him. ‘Nope. No idea at all. Kinda ruined our idea of a joint announcement, though, huh?’
Oliver gave a tight smile and nodded. ‘It did rather. It would seem our potential best man and bridesmaid hate each other’s guts.’
After that angst-filled performance, I had to say that yes, it really did. They’d gone from sharing a heated glance to shooting daggers at each other within the blink of an eye.
‘I have no idea why. I didn’t think they even spoke to each other that much. Sasha seemed pretty upset, though. I’m going to go and find her.’
Nodding, Oliver buttoned his suit jacket and scanned the crowd in the bar. ‘Good idea, I’ll hunt down Marcus.’
Sasha was in front of the mirror reapplying her lipstick when I entered the toilets. Her eyes flicked towards me and then dropped away again self-consciously, and I immediately knew she was in high defence mode. I also knew her well enough to be aware that I probably wouldn’t get any honest answers from her when she was in this type of mood, but I had to at least make sure she was all right. ‘Hey. You OK?’
‘Yup. Why wouldn’t I be?’ She puckered her mouth and ran a slick of red across her lips before smacking them together a few times to make sure the lipstick was evenly spread.
Sighing in resignation at my friend’s stubborn ways, I leaned on the sink beside her, determined to persevere. ‘I dunno. Maybe because you practically gouged out Marcus’s eyes back there for no apparent reason.’