by Lane Hart
I wait for him to tell me I'm an idiot.
"That's awesome!" Jax exclaims at my news, rather than making a disapproving remark.
"Yeah, it'll be real awesome if you and Page will visit me when I end up in the hospital. Just remember tulips are my fav."
"What the hell are you talking about? That bastard's reign is finally coming to an end, and thank fuck! He's been gaining on my knockout record."
"Yeah, it's really going to suck when I get knocked the hell out in the first round."
"That's not going to happen," Jax says, to which I just raise my eyebrow skeptically. "It won't! You've got this, Jude. Just...don't let him hit you."
"Huh. You don't say?" I tease him while rubbing my scruffy, sweaty chin thoughtfully. "What a completely foreign fighting concept! Why hasn't anyone ever thought of that shit before now? I think you've missed your calling as a coach, bro."
"Kiss my ass."
"No, please, give me some more of your sage advice. Maybe I should get something to write with, so I can take notes," I say, patting the sides of my shorts and looking around for my imaginary pen and paper. "Let me see if I can guess what you'll suggest next. Should I try and maybe hit him, or would that be too fucking risky?"
"I'm about to knock some of the smartass out of you," Jax replies. "But seriously, you and I are going to throw down in here every damn day. We're gonna hit this shit hard, and you're gonna come home with a belt."
"Sure. I can't wait to hear more about this whole don’t-let-him-hit-you plan of yours." I keep joking with him, but I'm actually grateful that Jax at least has confidence in me, even if I don't have any in myself.
"Hey, guys," Sadie says when she wanders up.
"Hey, Sadie. How's it going?" I ask.
"Sadie Hawkins," Jax says in greeting, patting the top of her head that's more than a foot shorter than the two of ours. "Have you already stopped growing? ‘Cause I'm not sure if it ever started."
"Ha-ha, Jax," she replies. "Your old ass hasn't retired yet?"
I laugh at the expression of grumpy surprise on Jax's scrunched up face.
"I'm not even thirty yet!" he scoffs indignantly when he finally recovers.
"Jax is gonna take up coaching with your dad when he retires from the cage. His latest wisdom is, wait for it - don't let him hit you."
Without missing a beat, Sadie whistles. "Ooh, that's good stuff. Maybe we should include that incredible tidbit in next month's newsletter, or is it a top secret Malone brother’s only training strategy?" she asks with a smile.
"Screw you guys. I'm going home," Jax grumbles, making us laugh at his ridiculous Cartman impression.
"So, my dad said yes," Sadie tells me once my brother is out of sight.
"Um, okay. What was the question?" I ask in confusion.
"Prom..." she says softly, her smile slipping from her face.
"Oh, yeah! See, I told you he would cave." Fuck. I'd been so hung up on trying to figure out how to survive the fight that I'd forgotten the other unfortunate part of the deal. I glance around us, thankful that none of the other fighters are within earshot.
"So the limo's picking everyone up at my house at six-thirty Saturday night."
"Okay. I'll, uh, be there," I agree. "Shit. I'm supposed to dress up, right? Do I need to buy a tux or something?"
"Yeah, I mean, most guys wear tuxes, but you don't have to..."
"Where do they sell them?" I ask. My closet consists of sweats, hoodies, jeans, and t-shirts with maybe one pair of khakis. That's as dressed up as I get.
"I'm pretty sure the place where I bought my dress has them, Carmen's, over on Fenton Street."
"Sure, I know the place. I'll go by and see about getting one, I guess," I tell her. I had no idea proms were such a pain in the ass.
"Awesome! Thanks, Jude."
This time, it really is a drop of sweat running down my spine, so I know I hadn't imagined that shit. I just need a damn shower.
Chapter Three
Sadie
A few minutes before two Saturday afternoon I walk into The Cutting Edge salon for my prom appointment I scheduled months ago. After checking in with the receptionist, I take a seat in the waiting area and pull out my phone to text Brayden one final time to see if I should wear my hair up or down. She immediately sends back "Up”. Yeah, I agree. Up is the only way I can contain my frizzy ass hair.
"Sadie?" a young stylist calls my name, and I jump up, ready to get this over with. I'm so freaking excited about seeing Jude tonight I could do cartwheels.
"Hi, I'm Jessica, and I'll be taking care of you today," the peppy woman with long blonde hair I’m envious of says in greeting. "So you're getting all dolled up for prom?" she asks, leading me to the salon chair and fastening a black drape around my neck.
"Yeah. Do you think you can tame my horrendous mane for this updo?" I ask, showing her one of the pictures I'd found on the Internet and saved on my phone as an example.
"Sure, but have you ever tried coloring yours? It's all natural, right?" she asks, trying to run her fingers through my tangles. "Or a smoothing treatment?"
"Um, no."
Raised by an MMA coach with my mother living miles away throughout my teen years, I haven't ever really done any of the girly things my friends do like change hairstyles, dress more feminine, or even use makeup. I just figure it's a lost cause.
"If you'll trust me, I can give you a complete makeover. You won’t even recognize yourself, and it’ll be so much easier to manage.”
"Really?" I ask with a hopeful smile.
"Yeah. And if you still want the updo after we’re done, we can do it then. So what do you say? I can do your manicure and pedicure while the color and smoothing cream set, and then your makeup when we’re finished."
Eyeing the wild mess in the mirror, I know I want a change, a new me, and I want to look nice tonight. My one and only night with Jude Malone. "Let's do it," I tell the stylist with a smile.
"Great! Now, what about waxing? Are you all set or do you need any touching up?"
There's no chance in hell that Jude or anyone else will see my bikini area tonight, but summer is here, and I'll be around our backyard pool with friends and guys from the gym basically every day from now on. Might as well get the unpleasantness over with.
"I think I'd like to go with a Brazilian."
"Definitely, because when we get finished with everything else, you're going to want to be prepared for anything," she says with a smile and a wink.
Jessica's extremely nice and with our casual conversation, time flies by. I get her to do French tips on my fingernails and paint my toes a shimmering dark blue to contrast with my sky blue dress. After that, the woman works some serious magic with full coverage makeup, lash lengthening mascara, and thick lip liner, too.
When I look at my phone on the way out of the salon and see it's almost six o'clock, I freak the hell out and run to my car. My extreme makeover took longer than expected, so now I have less than half an hour to get home, get my dress on, and figure out how to put in the contacts that I have stored away in my bathroom cabinet but have never actually used. Tonight I'm gonna lose my dorky glasses for the first time ever.
…
Jude
I'm almost to my truck and in the clear when Jax's black 4Runner pulls up in the driveway, blocking me in. Shit.
I've dealt with my dad's harassment for two days, and now I'll have to listen to Jax's. I hear my brother's laugh before he even gets out of the car. Ignoring him, I turn my attention to the side of the SUV where my beautiful sister-in-law and adorable nephew are instead.
"Hey, Page. How's my little X-man?" I ask, heading over to where she's unbuckling Xavier from his car seat.
"He's jacked up on gummy bears and practically bouncing off the walls," she responds with a glare in her husband's direction like he's to blame.
"Ju-ju!" Xavier squeals, looking like my brother’s tiny mini-me and reaching in my direction with grabby fists. I'm surpris
ed they aren't already taped up from Jax teaching him to fight. He just turned a year old, so maybe Jax will hold off his training for just a few more years.
"Oh no," Page says, hefting the little man up on her hip and refusing to let me have him. "We can't let you get Uncle Jude's tux all sticky and dirty before...before he goes off...to prom," she sputters the words through her giggles.
"Shut your mouth and hand him over," I order her. She complies, but only so she can bend over at the waist, laughing before Jax joins in with her.
"Nice monkey suit, bro." Jax chuckles and slaps my back. "We wanted to come by and see you off. Oh, and see if you need any of Xavier’s diapers or bottles, you know, in case your date gets cranky."
Page swats at Jax's chest in chastisement but then buries her face against his t-shirt, laughing right along with him.
"Hey, buddy," I say with a tickle to the dark-eyed chubster's belly, making him squeal and squirm in my arms. "You're more mature than your mommy and daddy, you know that?"
"Maybe we can arrange a playdate," Page says. "You know, with Sadie and Xavier." She giggles again, setting Jax off like a hyena.
"All right, well if you two have used up all your jokes, I need to go before I'm late. No good deed going unpunished and all that."
"We're just messing with you, Jude," Page replies, wiping away her tears of laughter. "It's really sweet that you're doing this."
"Uh-huh."
"We're going over to Coach's house too to see you two kids off," Jax informs me with a smirk.
"No, you're not," I counter. "Laugh at me all you want here, but I'm not going to listen to your shit around Sadie."
“Shit!” Xavier exclaims. It’s so damn cute I don’t even feel bad about the slip of profanity, even when he begins chanting, “Shit, shit, shit!”
"We're getting it all out of our systems now, I swear," Jax assures me, still unable to hide his smile at my expense and at his son’s new vocabulary.
"Fine, but I'll kick your ass-pen if you or your wife crack one joke," I warn, catching myself that time.
"We'll be on our best behavior," Page says, pulling out her phone. "Now let me get some pictures of you three tall, dark, and handsome guys together. You look seriously hot, Jude."
"Hey!" Jax scoffs with jealousy at her compliment, and I punch him in the ribs with my free hand, knowing he won't hit me back as long as I'm holding his son.
After a few poses, I fasten Xavier back into his car seat so I can head out.
"Getting practice?" Jax laughs. "Is Sadie still in the five-point harness system or just a booster seat these days?"
"That better be the last one."
"Okay. I'm done. Until tomorrow. I'm sure I'll think of a few more later tonight."
I groan and walk back to my big, blue Toyota Tundra, and wait for them to move so I can leave the driveway. Coach lives just a few streets over from us, right near his gym, and when we pull up to the curb, the limo is already in the driveway. It's a big son of a bitch, too. A stretched Cadillac Escalade. A group of kids dressed in prom attire stand around the yard that's also littered with parents and camera flashes.
“I'm too old for this shit,” I mumble to myself, but nevertheless, climb out of my truck. I know Coach would never forgive me if I back out now.
I scan the clusters of people, looking for Sadie. When I don't see her, I head for her father.
"Damn, Jude. I'm not sure I've ever seen you in anything but sweats." Coach Briggs chuckles, with a pat on my shoulder.
"Didn't think my sweats would be appropriate attire tonight," I reply, running my hands down the sky blue vest that, according to the formal wear store, supposedly matched Sadie's dress.
"Sadie's so excited. Thanks for doing this," he says quietly. "They're waiting for one more couple to show and then they'll be ready to go."
I nod as I pull my phone out to look at the time, trying to calculate how many hours I have to endure before this nightmare ends. Great, it's just six-thirty.
"Curfew?" I ask Coach, hoping to God it's early.
"Nah, not tonight."
"What?" I exclaim, baffled. I look over, and he's standing coolly beside me with his hands in his khaki shorts.
"Sadie said the prom lasts until two, and then they have a senior breakfast or something around four." He shrugs like letting his teenage daughter stay out all night long is no big deal.
Four fucking o'clock in the morning? That means I won't be home until...until almost twelve hours from now!
Twelve. As in a whole goddamn day. I didn't sign up for this shit.
"But you probably want her home by two, right?" I ask. More like beg.
"Nah, I know she's in good hands with you."
I'm completely bewildered and speechless at how I've been blindsided by the old man.
Again.
I panic and look around the yard, trying to think of a viable exit strategy. Coming up empty handed, I'm wondering what I've done wrong to warrant God punishing me so severely when my gaze suddenly gets stuck on a tan leg.
Yep, a leg—singular. There's just one, but that damn thing is being flashed from the toe of silver, strappy fuck-me-harder-heels all the way up to a lean hip bone.
A fucking hip bone.
Not a panty line in sight where one typically appears.
As if that wasn't enough to blow my mind, there's another six-inch gap of more golden skin around a sexy flat midriff, showing a teasing hint of navel, before the grand finale of partially covered sequin tits with enough cleavage to smother your face in and die a happy man.
What the fuck is wrong with the girl's parents letting her leave the house dressed like that? If she still has a v-card that shit is about to get revoked by her date in a matter of hours. Maybe minutes or even seconds. Goddamn, this girl is too young to be so fucking sexy.
For the first time ever, I'm ready to say to hell with my own carefully guarded innocence and throw it out the fucking window. My cock enthusiastically agrees. It's throbbing and twitching in her direction so hard I expect the bastard to start beeping frantically like a metal detector discovering gold.
My pervy, cradle-robbing ass is instantly imagining a variety of dirty deeds, all of which include ripping the two small teasing pieces of fabric out of the way to get her naked. And knowing there aren’t any fucking panties on underneath...oh shit. I think I just dribbled like an adolescent boy in my boxer-briefs.
I should've jerked off before coming over here, but how was I supposed to know I'd be this fucking horny and desperate? For a high school girl!
Oh God, my cock doesn't give a shit about age and is so hard it hurts. I wonder if I have time to say I forgot something in my truck, then rub one off real quick. It won't take but a few strokes to get me there. Two, maybe three, tops.
I barely suppress my groan of how good it'd feel to wrap my hand around myself to relieve the pressure...or even better wrap her hand around my cock...or her mouth. Oh yeah, I bet she's got an incredible mouth, too.
When my eyes finally make it above the shoulders of the gorgeous jailbait responsible for making my pants embarrassingly tight, I notice she has long, silky straight blonde hair that falls in a curtain down to the center of her mostly bare back.
And of course, she makes eye contact with me at the exact same moment my hand reaches down to the front of my pants. I’m trying to make a quick crotch adjustment before one of these dads kicks my ass. Her beautiful smile widens, and yes, she has perfect pink and pouty, cock sucking lips I notice right before she heads to me.
Oh shit!
I'm so busted. This chick is going to call me out, and Sadie will be pissed when she finds out I've been eye-fucking one of her friends. Only...the closer the sexy girl comes, the more familiar she looks.
"Sadie?" I think I may have asked the preposterous question aloud. No fucking way.
No.
Fucking.
Way.
It can't be Sadie because this heart-stopper isn't wearing glasses an
d her hair is stick straight and blonde. But those big green eyes?
Maybe Sadie has an older sister Coach never told us about. Although, upon closer inspection of her revealing dress, it is the same damn light blue as my vest.
"Hey sweetie,” Coach calls out to her from beside me, confirming my suspicion. “You ready?"
Sadie must have a fairy god-damn-mother who bippity-boppity-booped her ass from plain Jane to fine as fuck.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I turn and ask her father, apparently loud enough to make everyone in the yard look our way.
"Excuse me?" Coach replies with a crinkled forehead.
"You actually let her leave the front door of your house looking like that?"
"After spending four hundred dollars on that damn dress, I didn't have much choice."
"That's not a dress. That's...that's..." I snap my gaping mouth closed right before the words "the biggest cock tease I've ever seen" spill out.
"A losing battle," Coach grumbles with a sigh. "Let me get my camera and I'll be right back."
No wonder he wanted me to take Sadie to prom! Any of the other guys at the gym would be trying to bend her over right this second in front of God and everyone. Hell, I'm a virgin, and I want to bend her over right now in front of God and everyone.
I have an ironclad grip on that wasteful emotion known as lust. That shit is responsible for the prevailing downfall of most men, and as I know all too well, some women. Or at least I had a grip on it...until two minutes ago when those raging hormones I missed out on in my teenage years roared to life; angry and overcompensating for the delay. Sure, I have needs, but my hand doesn't require fancy dates or any wooing to leave me feeling satisfied whenever I have the urge. The convenience frees up my time for important shit like training.
When Coach leaves me standing here alone with temptation personified, it turns damn uncomfortable real quick. Sadie even smells sexy tonight, all floral and shit with a hint of peaches. How does her father expect me to go twelve hours without trying to get under the thin pieces of fabric barely covering her top or bottom? I'm already plotting nefariously to do exactly that.