by N. K. Love
Next thing I know, I see Beth heading out all agitated and realise something must’ve kicked off. I grab Craig, who I’m tightest with out of everybody and tell him to let the others know we’ve left.
Five minutes later and my Little Miss Contradiction, whose tiny hand was swallowed up by mine just a moment prior, has landed a sweet lick and knocked the ex to the floor. I was speechless, in awe.
At work, I’ve seen her push through pain thresholds and personal barriers, especially on the treadmill. Beth’s untouchable when she’s in the zone and it’s just as much a turn on than when she’s dressed to kill on a night out. Seeing her dripping with sweat, pounding the belt, stride after stride… I’ve watched her undetected time after time, either in the flesh or on screen. I know every square foot of that place and can position myself discreetly to see anybody, especially via the reflections in the mirrors.
This is something I worked out after hearing that somebody was dealing from my gym. I was infuriated and made it my mission to catch the fucker red-handed. He thought he was sly and that he’d found all the blind spots on the floor away from the cameras, and me. I made a few adjustments, got my evidence on camera and then waited to see him with my own eyes. When I did, I made sure that he saw that I’d seen, left him to stew for a few days and then dealt with him myself.
A perk of having no blind spots is that I have been able to enjoy seeing Beth in action.
Tonight though, that punch didn’t have much to do with physical, it was something else, is was pure inner strength driven by her pain.
There’s no way I could let her go home alone in this state and Wills had already collared me earlier to tell me to look out for her. When the taxi started heading away from Wills I tried to wake Beth to no avail. I’ve never been to Wills’ but I bumped into her a few months ago outside the shop where I get my supplements from and she’d told me that she lived around the corner. My guess was that she must’ve given the driver her old address. Now that would’ve been comical, rocking up to his house for round two.
Reluctantly I decided that my place was the best option and diverted the driver. It should be fine, she’s just going to sleep it off and then she’ll be out of here.
When I carried her in, up the stairs and into my bed, she kept thanking me. But her last mumbled words to me were, ‘G, you’re my lovely G… my gladiator’. I couldn’t stop the wide grin from plastering across my face. Yes, it gave me an advantage in our ongoing one-upmanship banter but it was sweet to hear. I wonder if she’ll ever tell me that voluntarily, I may have to tease it out of her.
I took off her shoes, tucked her in but kept her right hand out of the blanket so that I could raise it and ice her knuckles. I put the bedside lamp on and saw the grazes and swelling. After a closer inspection, it’s possible she’s damaged her metacarpals, which I know is a painful inconvenience. She’ll need to get it x-rayed later on this morning just in case.
I’ve left her hand out of the bed, raised on a pillow. She’s in a deep sleep now so I doubt she’ll move around too much anyway.
Time for me to attempt some sleep too. I want to feel her lips again but kiss her forehead instead. I breathe her in and lie down beside her with cushions wedged between us. My wild imagination runs away with endless impossible possibilities. Considering I’m far outside my usual comfort zone, with a girl in my bed, I surprise myself by drifting to sleep with ease.
Chapter Six
8:13am
Beth
Ouch. Head. Hurts.
I open my puffy eyes to a lovely but unfamiliar room. I tense my body to move but feel too much discomfort to attempt it. Double ouch! My body’s stiff, my back is throbbing and then I look down at my hand and see it’s red and swollen. There’s a hand gripping my wrist protectively. Jax. He bought me back to his place?
I close my eyes again and let the night come flooding back. The end of the night was fuzzy but the important bits are unmistakably there.
Mike.
How could he? How could I have not known? My stomach clenches. But it’s in a disgusting way that makes me want to vomit, not the wonderful way that Jax affects me. I call this the Jax Effect. My stomach doesn’t ease up.
Silent tears fall effortlessly either side of my face. I’m such a fool… Even more so because not only did he cheat on me for at least the last year but even after we’d separated, he’s continued treating me like a fool, letting me carry on loving and caring for him as a friend. Spineless wanker deserved that punch.
Argghh! I can’t believe that he actually asked me not to talk to him last night and like an idiot I was more than happy to oblige thinking it was because I’d make it awkward with his date… Well I suppose I was right but for the wrong reason. I thought I was being a great ex, not paving the way for his side chick.
As much as I’d wanted Wills when I was in the bar, I’m so grateful to Jax for looking after me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. I couldn’t have asked for more. Now, here I am lying in his bed and I don’t even remember getting here. I’m fully clothed and was in a deep sleep but there’s no question as to whether or not he would’ve tried anything.
Oh my God. The kiss! Oh my kissylicious. No matter how many vodkas proceeded it or how much drama followed, I remember every swirl of his tongue, every press of his lips. That kiss was incredible and I instigated it. Me! Go me!
I open my eyes enough to see Jax lying on his front, facing me, asleep; he looks so peaceful, except for the protective grip he has on my wrist. His bare broad inked shoulders and the top of his toned back are uncovered and I want to touch him. I wonder if he has slept in pyjama bottoms, or boxer briefs, or naked. I hope for the latter.
There’s a thoughtfully placed barrier of small cushions between us but I don’t know if that’s for my benefit or his. I’m still tempted to slide my legs over to his side just to see if I feel his skin.
I wonder what time it is or where my bag is with my phone. At least I had the good sense to turn my alarm off before we went out last night so that’s not going to disturb him.
My hand looks a state but it’s worth every millimetre of swelling and I’m pretty sure it’ll just be bad bruising. I’m a bit out of practice and when I did self-defence it was only ever mitts that I hit, not actual flesh and bone. Hitting Mike was silly of me I know and it hasn’t resolved anything but it felt so damn good to shock him. But it doesn’t compare to how he shocked me.
I’m desperate for the toilet now but I don’t want to disturb Jax. I try to negotiate out of his grasp undetected but he starts to stir and wakes, parting those beautiful eyelashes. I cover my face with my other hand and peep at him through my fingers.
“Please don’t look at me.” My voice is a hoarse whisper. I may be smiling but I’m serious, I must look an absolute mess. My gladiator, inches away from me with my crazy hair, old make up and morning breath. This is the exact opposite to my fantasies about us. Usually in those, I have minty fresh breath, glowing skin and glossy long locks almost strategically placed along the pillows.
“Good morning to you too. It’s too late for that B, I spent enough time watching you sleep earlier.”
And there it is, his beautiful smile, up close and for my eyes only. I melt.
“No you didn’t, did you? Did you? Oh, just turn away please. Is that an en suite?”
I nod towards the door on his side and he is obviously amused.
“No… that’s the hallway, the bathroom is behind you.” I look up and see a door beside me on the left.
“Can you close your eyes please Jax?”
He shakes his head frowning but entertains my pathetic plea with a smirk. This is just damage limitation on my part. He has seen me drunk, crying, sad and angry—none of which can be very attractive or appealing.
I groan as I get up, he lets go of my wrist and uses his hand to help push my back up, which reminds me of my zip. I’m really going to struggle to unzip this playsuit.
“Sorry, can you ju
st undo my zip please? Sorry.”
If I wasn’t in such surreal circumstances, the sound of my zipper and the touch of his knuckles skimming over the fabric as his hand descends, would be enough to have me quivering on the spot… I look over my shoulder and his eyes are following the path of his hand, which is exposing my bare skin. How can he still look so amazing when he’s just woken up?
“Eyes.” He closes them again with a smirk.
Once I’ve escaped to the bathroom, I lift my arms to stretch out the aches and stiffness. I go to the toilet, which proves awkward with one hand. When I carefully wash my hands I admire how immaculate his bathroom is. A pleasant discovery; not least because Mike always left a trail of destruction behind him. Whenever he left the house, he would always look pristine and the house would look anything but! Twatfaced pig!
I freshen up as best I can by washing my face. Jax shouts that I’ll find a spare toothbrush in one of the drawers. Everything’s so neat and orderly, I love it. Finding the toothbrush, I brush my mouth back to freshness, rinsing with a capful of mouthwash too. I take the rest of my plaits out, which look more like rats tails now. Combing it through with my fingers. Unfortunately I need two hands to make a decent ponytail and I can’t manage to grip a hairband tightly enough so I’ll have to leave it loose.
God that feels so much better. I re-enter the bedroom feeling more human than when I went in. Jax is gone, which is a bummer because I was looking forward to finding out what he was—or wasn’t—wearing beneath the covers.
My playsuit is still unzipped and I peer round my side to see some bruising, prompting a flashback to me falling back onto those stairs. Shit, I must’ve fallen with some force. Well that explains the stiffness. I go to stand in the doorway of the bathroom with my back to the large wall mirror inside. I drop the top half of the suit so it hangs off my hips. Jeez, now I can see the full extent of the bruising. It looks like I have been whacked with an iron bar three times, leaving a horizontal bruised line each time. Bruising always looks worse as it starts to get better too so I know they’re only going to get darker.
I’m too busy craning my neck over my shoulder to realise Jax is back.
“Beth—”
He moves so he can see what I’m looking at making no reaction to the fact that I’m standing in my bra. I wrap my arms over my chest anyway whilst acknowledging that he has unfortunately put on a tee with his pyjama bottoms.
“How the fuck did this happen?” He brushes past me into the bathroom and turns, dropping to his knees. He takes hold of my hips to get a closer look.
“It’s nothing. Mike’s—that blonde girl, accidentally knocked me over onto the stairs. I’m fine.”
I try to pull my suit back up but Jax’s hands hold it in place. He traces his fingers along each line slowly. His gentle touch takes the pain away instantly and replaces it with pure trace-your-fingers-all-over-my-body-all-day-long lust. I hold my breath in vain as though that’ll somehow stop the goose bumps, which it doesn’t. I take a small unsteady step forward, away from him. I have no idea if I told my feet to move or if my body just panicked.
“Are you sure it’s okay? Just bruising?” I nod. I can’t string words together yet Jax is totally unaffected by me and I’m wearing a lot less than him. “You have really got it in for this poor back of yours B.” He releases my hips and stands, waiting whilst I quickly cover myself up and put my arms back into my playsuit. Jax gathers my hair and drapes it over one shoulder so that he can zip me back up. “We’ll get the doctor to have a look. First, eat. Then you can grab a shower before we go.”
I clear my throat, feeling more grounded now that I’m not flashing flesh and he’s not touching me.
“Go where? I don’t need a doctor for this. I’m absolutely fine. But I won’t say no to a coffee and a shower though please.”
“You do need a doctor, for this…”
He picks up my bad hand, which admittedly looks pretty bad. He leads me back to his bed. The circumstances for which are almost laughable really. Jax leading me back to his bed, not because I’m about to commit sexual suicide but because he’s looking out for me, the burden he got dumped with. Actually…
“Why aren’t we at Wills?”
Jax pulls back the quilt and I slide back into bed. He puts his pillow behind me so I can sit up more comfortably.
“I’m not sure where you sent the driver but it wasn’t her place. You were three sheets to the wind and I couldn’t get a word out of you so…”
“I’m so sorry. I really appreciate everything you did for me last night. And this…” I gesture to the tray of orange juice, a small cafetiere and croissants for us. He brings it over and it smells super lush. He then hands me two painkillers and a glass of the orange juice.
“Take these. Then eat.”
Whilst I tuck in, he takes a shower and then we switch. It is by far the best shower I’ve ever had. It wasn’t just a shower, it was more like an experience. With jets of water spraying my body from all directions and the huge showerhead drowning me from above. Totally lush on lush. I also made the useless observation that there’s more than enough room for both of us in his oversized shower area.
There’s no hanging around after that though. I get the feeling that he can’t get me out of his house quick enough. I manage to admire as much of his place as I can see along the way out. From what I can see, his house looks wonderful; huge, beautifully designed and decorated. Before I know it, we’re through the double front doors and outside. I hope he will bring me back one day so he can give me a proper tour. I think about asking him but I’m distracted by the world outside.
I breathe in the morning’s fresh air and my eyes adjust to the surprisingly vibrant colours of nature; the greenest grass and the bluest sky. Where on earth are we? There’s a gated sweeping driveway up to the house. I walk down a few steps and I see garages to my left and a long wall to my right with a discreet barn style gate, which must lead to the back garden. The best thing is there’s not another building in sight. It seems like he has the best neighbour ever; Mother Nature.
Didn’t Wills say Jax was a personal trainer before becoming the manager? How has he ended up here?
“Wow G, your place is amazing. Just look at these views. It feels like we’re the only people on earth.” I spin on the spot looking up to the sky, then stop abruptly, facing him. “Wait, have you secretly drugged me, kidnapped me and taken me into the middle of nowhere to have your wicked way with me?” Jax lets out an infectious rumbling laugh.
“Would you like that? The last part, not the drugs or the kidnapping!”
“Ha! I think you’d like me to like that. Let’s just say that I’d like to come back here under more pleasant circumstances.”
On that note we get in his 4x4 and he drives me to the nearest hospital to visit the accident and emergency department.
Two long hours and an x-ray later, he is driving me home with my hand strapped up. Whilst we waited, seeing all the nurses walk by reminded me of my mom. Feeling nostalgic, I text her; I love you and Dad. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
It won’t trigger her to call me, worrying. I often send random sentimental texts.
Thankfully, as suspected, there’s nothing broken. It’s just badly bruised so I won’t be able to drive for about a week. Dammit. Maybe it wasn’t worth it after all. The doctor confirmed trauma to blood vessels causing swelling, bruising, loss of grip and reduced ability to bend and extend. I’ve got to ice it, try to keep it elevated, take painkillers and massage from fingertips to elbow to reduce swelling and help improve the movement. My back is just bad bruising too, nothing to worry about.
Jax came in to see the doctor with me. He offered, I shrugged. The doctor called me in and he followed. Jax listened intently and asked questions, which was pretty sweet.
When we got home Jax invited himself in for a coffee. I told him I don’t need a babysitter but he made the argument that he needed a caffeine fix, which I totally re
lated to. It was a long night and at earlyish morning. Plus I can’t exactly be unwelcoming after he’s been bending over backwards to help me.
I briefly show him around downstairs and then he takes a seat at the kitchen island whilst I attempt to make a coffee. I try to wince discreetly when I bend down to the cupboard and when I stretch to get the milk. Those pain killers Jax gave me at breakfast might be wearing off but it’s too early to take any more. This one handed crap is already doing my head in.
After nearly burning myself trying to do everything left handed, I eventually make our drinks and sit opposite Jax, putting a bowl of tuna pasta salad from the fridge in between us. I hand him one of the two forks. I’m not about to attempt chopping salad to go with it so this is as far as my hospitality can stretch.