Breaking Down

by Megan Lowe

  “We’re so glad you decided to train here, Jax,” he keeps telling me. He also introduces me to everyone, and I mean everyone, we meet. Not that I mind when he mentions I’m an eight-time Extreme Games medallist. It gives me an ego boost for a second before I remember that figure should have been, would have been, fourteen, but I fucked up. All that is forgotten however, when we get to the back of the gym where an MMA cage is set up. A girl and a guy are going at it pretty hard.

  “This is Bentley and Harley, two of our fighters.”

  We stand and watch as they spar, neither giving an inch. Just as I think neither of them is going to crack, the guy drops his guard. It’s only for a fraction of a second, so quick if you blinked you would’ve missed it. But that’s all it takes as the chick seizes the opportunity, hitting him with a nasty right hook and sending him to the floor.

  “Holy shit,” I say as I adjust my rapidly hardening MIP in my shorts. That’s Most Important Part, in case you were wondering.

  Bert chuckles. “Yeah, Bentley’s a firecracker.”

  “Firecracker? She knocked that guy out,” I say, as trainers help him up.

  “’Snot the first time. Come on,” he says, walking over to the stairs that lead to the cage, “I’ll introduce you.” I race after him, so eager to meet this firecracker of a woman it’s not funny. “Bentley,” he calls, “I’ve got someone here I want you to meet.”

  She turns and almost knocks me on my arse. Stunning is not enough of a word to describe her. She’s tall, taller than me, which oddly I don’t mind. If I had to guess, I’d put her at five eleven. Her eyes are a gold colour, she has a hole in her chin where I’m guessing a labret piercing would usually go, and her arms and legs are a riot of colourful tattoos. Her lips are pink and full and I’d like nothing more than to spend all day kissing them. She takes off her headgear as she walks over to us, and a heap of platinum-blonde hair falls around her and down her back. Her body is a typical athlete’s body, toned and trim, but what it’s doing to me is anything but typical.

  “Bentley, this is Jax Ryan,” Bert says.

  Quickly I wipe my sweaty palm before offering it to her. “I don’t want to scare you off,” I say, “but I think you’re my perfect woman.”

  She looks at me with disgust, and I let my hand drop to my side again. Unperturbed, Bert carries on. “Jax is a freestyle BMX rider,” he explains, “he’s got—”

  “Eight Extreme Games gold medals,” she finishes.

  “Ah, yeah,” Bert says, disappointed she stole his thunder.

  A smirk crosses my face. “So you’ve heard of me?” I ask.

  “I’ve heard of you,” she says as she takes the bindings off her hands. “I also saw your epic defence of your medals at the last games.”

  I shrug and try to play it off. “Freestyle BMX can be dangerous. Every rider knows it. I know it. I’m not afraid of it.”

  “No,” she says, crossing her arms over her small but adequate chest, “you just ate it in front of millions of people.”

  “No risk, no reward. Sure, my run didn’t come off this time. Doesn’t mean it’s not a great combo or that I’m a bad rider. It means that next time, I know what not to do. No need to mention that I’m the only rider going round that will even attempt that combo. That takes balls, darlin’, and I’ve got ’em, big ones.” It’s her turn to smirk, and I see her eyes travel down my body. I give her a cocky smile when her eyes return to my face.

  “Then what?” she asks.

  “Then I move on to the next trick and the next. Each time pushing myself and my bike to the limit.”

  “And that’s your reward?”

  “No, darlin’,” I say as I step closer to her, “my reward is flying through the air, only a glorified kids’ bike underneath me. It’s knowing I’m pulling tricks guys a few years ago couldn’t even dream of. But more than that, it’s doing something I love, something I’m fucking great at. That’s my reward.” By the time I’ve finished my spiel I’m almost pressed up against her. Her breathing is fast, her pupils dilated, and yep, her nipples are hard.

  She shakes her head, and I see my spell break. “Sounds like an ego trip to me,” she says as she brushes past me and heads towards the cage door.

  “And knocking that guy out wasn’t?” I call after her.

  She spins to face me. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, knocking that guy out wasn’t an ego trip? Or sparring against him in the first place? Tell me, Bentley, why would a woman put herself up against a man?”

  Her hackles rise at my challenge, and I smile, inwardly of course. “I put myself up against Harley because he’s the best,” she says.

  “And you want to beat the best, right?” I ask.

  She nods. “Bet your arse I do.”

  “Why?”

  “To prove….” She trails off.

  “To prove you’re the best, right?” I finish for her.

  “Whatever,” she huffs. “I might want to challenge myself, but at least I’m not a chauvinistic arsehole.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “Oh, darlin’, I’m all about women’s equality. Bottom, top, from behind, reverse cowgirl, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “You’re a pig,” she sneers.

  “Doesn’t mean you don’t want me though, does it? Do yourself a favour, don’t fight it, it’ll only make it worse.”

  With a huff, she turns and exits the cage before stomping off toward the locker room.

  “I think I’m in love,” I tell Bert as we watch her go.

  Chapter 6

  Bentley

  Ugh, this day couldn’t get any worse. First, it was my car breaking down before work, then it was running out of time to dye my hair. I absolutely hate having my hair its natural blonde; it reminds me too much of the girl I used to be. A girl who got herself into a bad situation. So now I dye it all manner of strong, bright colours so that my world is never as dark as it was then. But because I was in a rush this weekend, I only had time to strip the old colour. And now I have to put up with BMX “god” Jax Ryan at my gym. Okay, so it’s not really my gym, but I’m here so much it may as well be. Of course all of this had to happen today of all days. Today marks four years since the incident that changed my life. The scars I bear are a constant reminder that not everyone is as they seem.

  Jax Ryan is not one of those people, however. I’ve followed freestyle BMX and motocross for a while. His brother, Mav, is a genius when it comes to doing tricks on bikes. I heard he lives on the Coast now, but I’ve never seen him around. Trust me, I’ve been looking. He seems so quiet and in control, strong yet not dominating. He seems like the perfect guy for me.

  His brother, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. I think back to our interaction in the cage and feel my anger rise. Mixed in with that is heat of a different kind. His expression when he was describing what it’s like to fly through the air, a glint in his brown eyes, a cheeky grin on his good-looking face. He got so close to me I could smell his cologne, spicy and fresh, and now I feel like it’s permanently embedded in my brain. I smile unwittingly when I remember his parting words to me. He’s a cocky little shit, a player for sure, and one who’s probably going to give it his best shot at getting in my pants, but I’ll be damned if I let him in.

  I shower, throw my hair in a messy knot on top of my head, and change before heading out. I wave to Bert as I leave, noticing to my immense relief that he’s Jax-free, and head to the car park, hoping with everything I’ve got that my car starts.

  “You know—” a voice says behind me as I enter the car park. I spin and without thinking, I bury my fist in the offender’s stomach. “Ooof,” Jax says, bowing over. “What the fuck was that for?”

  “What the fuck are you doing lurking in a car park like a creep?” I retort.

  “I was waiting for you,” he says, slowly straightening. “Shit, woman, I think you almost broke my stomach.”

  “You can’t break a stomach,” I tell him.

  “O
h yeah?” he says, and pulls up his shirt, exposing a glorious set of abs that have a fist-sized bruise forming on them. “Want to rub it and check?” That cheeky grin from before is back.

  “No, but I’ll give you a matching bruise if you’d like,” I say, batting my eyelashes and smiling sweetly.

  “Seriously though,” he lowers his shirt, “I just wanted to talk to you, there’s no need to get violent.”

  “I’m a single woman walking to her car alone. I can’t afford to take chances. Besides, who waits in a car park for someone?”

  “Well I would’ve invited myself into your locker room, but Bert started talking about fees or some shit like that and I had to get out of there.”

  I nod sympathetically. “I understand simple maths may be difficult for you.” He scoffs. “No, really, it’s okay. Some people are academically gifted; others are better seen, not heard.”

  His grin changes from cheeky to predatory. “Is that your roundabout way of saying you think I’m pretty?” he asks, slowly moving closer to me. “Usually Liam’s the pretty one out of the lot of us, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me borrowing his title.”

  “What?” I stammer. “No, I do-don’t think you’re pretty.”

  “You sure?” he asks, coming closer still. “It’s okay if you do, you wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last either.”

  “You’re a dick,” I say.

  “Yep,” he says, “a big one. I’d be happy to show it to you some day. Maybe even today if you play your cards right.”

  “Oh, please,” I scoff.

  “Hey, I’m nothing but honest.”

  I look down and see an admittedly impressive bulge in his shorts. “I can see that,” I say, closing the gap between us, my hand caressing his length over his clothes. He groans, closes his eyes, and throws his head back. “Mmmm, you like that?” I ask as I massage him.

  “Fuck yeah,” he says, breathlessly. Without warning, I switch from massaging him to squeezing him tight, too tight. “Ow! Fuck! What are you doing?” he demands as he tries to escape my hold.

  “You offer to show me this or any other part of you and I’ll cut it off,” I tell him. “Got it?”

  “Ah, fuck, yeah, I get it. Don’t make the beautiful woman angry.”

  I loosen my hold. “Good.” I walk to my car, a sway in my hips and a smile on my face. Maybe today isn’t so bad after all.

  Chapter 7

  Jax

  The drive from the gym to Mav’s is about half an hour. By the time I get back, the tightness in my head has just started to descend. It’s a fucking pain in the arse, but I’ve got to keep reminding myself that it could be worse. Rule numero uno, kids, always wear safety gear when riding a bike.

  The thirty minutes it takes me to get to Mav’s still isn’t enough to get Bentley out of my head. She’s a firecracker. I smile as I remember her spunk, then rub my dick. The poor dude may never fully recover from the torture grip she had him in. I know I won’t ever recover from our meeting today. As I walk into the house, I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

  “What’s with you?” Mav asks when he sees me.

  “Just a beautiful day to be alive, brother,” I tell him.

  “Yeah,” he says, “but there’s more.”

  “Can’t a guy be happy he’s been given the all-clear to resume a light training schedule?” I ask.

  “Course you can,” my bro says as he snuggles with his lady on the couch, “but there’s more to your smile than exercise-related happiness.”

  I smile and swagger over to a recliner. “I think I’m in love.”

  Both Mav and Aubrey stop what they were doing to stare at me.

  “Wha—” Mav begins.

  “Who?” Aubrey asks.

  Mav shakes his head. “In love? Really?” I nod. “So who’s the lucky lady?”

  “Her name is Bentley. She’s a fighter at Bert’s gym.”

  “That’s ah, that’s great,” Mav says, sounding very unconvincing.

  “Yeah, really great,” Aubrey echoes. “So was it, um, love at first sight for her too?”

  “Nah, but it will be.” Mav and Aubrey look at each other.

  “What do you mean it will be?” Mav asks.

  “We kind of kicked things off on a rough note,” I explain. “But that’s probably shock on her part. She hasn’t realised she’s met her Prince Charming yet.”

  “Right,” Mav says.

  “But it’s all good, I have a plan,” I tell them.

  “Of course you do,” Aubrey says under her breath, but I still hear her.

  “So what is this master plan?” Mav asks.

  “Well,” I say, and flick the footrest out on the recliner. The chair leans back quicker than I anticipated and I lose my bearings for a second.

  “Balance still not back yet?” Mav asks, a concerned look on his face.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him for the fifty-seven-thousandth time. “The doc said it’s not uncommon for the effects of a concussion to last this long, and given this isn’t my first rodeo it’s kind of to be expected.” Expected, but still enough to get me and the wider BMX community wondering if this is it.

  “You always were hard-headed.”

  I give him the finger. “Anyway, my master plan is not to give her a chance to say no to me. I know I’m irresistible, I just need to make sure she knows it and that I’m around when she does.”

  “Right,” Mav says again.

  “To that end, I’m thinking of going to a yoga class tomoz, wanna come?” I ask.

  Aubrey snorts. “Yoga? You?”

  I nod. “Helps keep me flexible and get extra extension on my tricks. The judges love that shit.”

  “And the fact that this Bentley could be there—”

  “Is all part of my master plan,” I finish for her. “So you in?” I ask Mav.

  “Sure,” he says.

  “You think Josh would want to come?” I ask.

  “What are you planning?” Mav asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “I just think it would be good for the dude to get out, get in shape, you know, get a life that isn’t wholly connected to yours or a computer.” That’s the God’s honest truth too. I feel sorry for the dude and want to help him out. The fact that it might make me a bit more agreeable in Bentley’s eyes is icing on the cake.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Aubrey says.

  “You do?” Mav asks his fiancée.

  She nods. “I think it’d be good for Josh to get out a bit.”

  I clap my hands. “So it’s all settled then, awesome.”

  Mav gives me a look that says he knows there’s something else going on but isn’t going to push it. Yet.

  The following day, Mav, Josh, and I all pile into Mav’s souped-up Subaru BRZ and head to Bert’s.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Josh says as we walk into the room where the yoga class is being held.

  I pull him aside and motion for Mav to set up our mats. “What’s up, dude?” I ask.

  He looks around the room. “We’re the only guys here,” he whispers.

  “So?” I shrug.

  “So won’t we look wimpy?”

  “Nah, dude, we’re smart. Think about it, two single guys up close and personal with all these hot, flexible ladies. It’s a freaking gold mine.”

  “But it’s yoga,” he says.

  “It’s a good workout,” I tell him. “I do it all the time at home.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. It’s good for the body and the mind.” He looks at me sceptically. “Look, just do one class. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to come back, but,” I say before he gets carried away, “I do think you need to do something besides play video games all day.” He takes a breath and nods. “Good man. And hey, it’s not like I’m forcing you to eat a bowl of mushy peas.” I shudder. “We’re working out in a room chock-full of hot women. Life could be much, much worse, man.”

  He takes a look aroun
d the room again, surveying the faces of the women in here with us. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  I slap him on the back. “Of course I am. Come on, it’s about to start.”

  In the end Josh did really fucking well in the class. For a shy computer geek, the dude has moves. Me, not so much. My shoulder is tight because I haven’t been able to move it for six weeks due to my collarbone, and balancing is difficult because of my concussion. We were doing the cat pose when my balance completely left me. Again. It took me a bit to regain my bearings, so I stepped out for a sec. I’m sitting on a bench outside the classroom, my head resting against the wall with my eyes closed, when someone sits down next to me. I open an eye and tilt my head to see Bentley. Her hair is a bright rainbow today. A smile crosses my face before I even realise it.

  “Told you, you wouldn’t be able to get enough of me,” I say.

  She scoffs. “Hardly.”

  “And what, this is the only free seat in the whole gym?” I ask. “Don’t fool yourself, darlin’; you want me, you just don’t want to admit it.”

  “I came over to see if you were okay, which clearly, you are,” she says, and goes to get up. I grab her wrist and drag her back down again.

  “Don’t go,” I say. I hate the weakness in my voice. I hate the fact women are always leaving me. I hate the fact that I hate all of that. Beneath my fingers I feel her relax, and I let her go. “Thank you.”

  “Still struggling with the concussion, or did you get kicked out of class for spending the whole time flirting?” The corner of her mouth ticks up in a slight smile.

  “Darlin’, you’re the only woman for me,” I tell her. She just rolls her eyes. “But yeah, this concussion is still throwing me for a loop.” I nod and have to grab on to the bench for balance.

  “Whoa there, sailor,” she says as she steadies me.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  “Haven’t gotten your balance back yet, huh?”

  “Nah,” I say, trying to brush off what just happened, “I downed a litre of bourbon before I came here this morning.”