Enjoy the Ride (Winter Games Book 3) Read online

  Tammy sat silently, not needing to add anything to the request. Jerk. I’d spared her earlier and now she was letting me roast.

  Alright, I was going to tell them anyway. I think…

  “Yesterday, he kissed me after work.” Ally began to choke on her drink—and I didn’t blame her; I was choking on the memory, too. They both stared at me. They both knew how big this was. How I’d avoided Chance and all mention of him for so long. And how he hated me for what I’d done.

  “Jessa!” Kyle’s voice broke through the heaviness of my confession. I turned to see my co-worker jog over to our group, guitar around his neck. The band was supposed to start in a few. “I was trying to get your attention.”

  He pulled me in for a hug that I awkwardly returned. “I… uhh…” Forgot that I was even here to see you? “Sorry, it’s crazy here. We were just getting settled.” I looked to my friends. “Kyle, these are my friends, Ally and Tammy.” I kept my eyes focused as they greeted each other even though I could feel Chance’s gaze on me—a warning that I better not be giving away what was his.

  “Nice to meet you guys!” He reached out and shook their hands. “Alright, well I gotta get back up there but maybe I’ll catch you after the show, Jessa?” His eyes were hopeful that the answer would be ‘yes.’

  “If your throng of fans hasn’t overwhelmed you,” I teased, not wanting to make any promises. In my defense, there were a lot of people here to see them.

  With a grin, he disappeared into the crowd. I let my eyes stray too far following him and found myself caught in Chance’s glare. He was with Nick. And Monroe. At the bar. It looked like she was being shared between them—something I knew that Frost wasn’t opposed to.

  In my periphery, I saw Monroe trying to get his attention—because Nick wasn’t enough for her. She was practically plastered to Chance’s side—like white on rice. Only Chance didn’t seem to want anything to do with her; he was completely focused on me.

  And not in the ‘he wanted to devour me’ way, but in the ‘he was about to rip someone’s head off way.’ I felt my skin warm underneath the flames of his anger pulsing off of his body; he’d seen me hug Kyle after he’d warned me that I better not even look at him.

  I knew that stare—that anger. The only way to appease it was to appease his possessiveness. Eight years ago, that stare meant that we’d better find someplace quasi-private because Chance was about to remind me to whom I belonged.

  But this wasn’t eight years ago.

  I ripped my eyes from his and turned back to my friends whose focus was sitting squarely on me.

  Reluctantly, I prepared to continue my explanation. Or at least the important parts.

  “Why did he kiss you? What does he want?” she demanded.

  “Me. On a silver platter.” I groaned.

  “Like as his girlfriend again?” Oh, Tammy. I shook my head.

  “No. Like he wants to make me remember just what I gave up. He wants to remind me just how much I want him and then he wants to crush me the same way that I crushed him,” I admitted pitifully.

  “How do you know that?” Tammy said, unwilling to believe someone capable of wanting something like that.

  “Because he told me, Tam,” I replied, frustrated that she would still try to think otherwise. “He wants to break my heart—as if leaving him hadn’t done that already.”

  “What if you tell him the truth?” Ally interjected. She didn’t know how that wouldn’t be enough and he was still her brother, so I wasn’t going to elaborate.

  I swallowed the last sip of my drink. The alcohol settled into my blood and made everything about the hardness of my words slightly fuzzier for the short term.

  “I think it’s too late for the truth, Ally.”

  The bar turned up the volume since it was getting later which meant that any further conversation was impossible. My foot tapped on the ground and my head nodded and swayed. Neither of which was to the beat of the music, but to the beat of my heart as it thought about the man who refused to let me out of his sight.

  At this point, even the truth wouldn’t free me from his anger.

  Ace of Cups (Reversed): Repressed feelings. So many bottled up emotions that a general ‘numbness’ sets in, seeping into every void. Withholding emotions for fear of being hurt. It’s time to let them go.

  WE’D LEFT THE BAR ABOUT half-way through Kyle’s set the other night. Emmett stopped in and picked Ally up on his way back from Denver; her whisper in my ear as they went to leave informed me that this wasn’t the last of our discussion about her brother.

  At that point, I could tell that Tammy was starting to feel drained so I didn’t want to push it. Not to mention, I wasn’t in any condition to put on a nice face for Kyle. Sorry, bud. I waited until Chance, Nick, and Monroe got up from the bar and disappeared—I told myself it was to go grab a smoke because the other potential option made me nauseous—before I nodded to Tammy that we could head home.

  Tammy hadn’t said much on the way back aside from a few words of caution. She’d been there the first time. She’d seen what breaking him and then leaving him had done to me. She knew the depths to which this could drop me.

  Sunday, I stayed in the apartment—too afraid of who I might run into if I ventured outside. Instead, I worked on prepping exercise programs for my patients for the next few weeks. I was starting two new clients this week, on top of the two that I already had. Thank God, my schedule was starting to fill out. Maybe that would keep my mind off of him.

  I was nervous to see Kyle this morning since we’d bailed before his show was over, but he didn’t seem to be too upset. He was grateful and excited for the turnout that they’d gotten, telling me that the bar had invited them back to play again next month. With that weight off of my shoulders, I went into my morning appointment with Betty in better spirits.

  “I see you are trying to steal my man from me while I’m not looking,” she accused after seeing me chatting with Kyle just before the start of her appointment.

  “I would never.” I feigned outrage for her. “Although, I should for what you did last week.”

  We walked over to the mats to start her session with some hip and leg stretches.

  “What did I do last week?” she asked innocently.

  “Oh, just cornered my afternoon patient to see for yourself who I was confiding to you about.”

  “Me?” Her hand came to her chest in shock.

  Faker.

  “Yes, you.” I watched her face scrunch as I reached the limits of where her hip flexors would stretch.

  “I-I don’t remember, dear. I must have had a senior moment. You’ll understand when you get to be my age.”

  I huffed and rolled my eyes with a wry laugh. She was a piece of work.

  “But…” she continued as I moved to her other leg, “if I did meet such a man, I might understand how you wouldn’t be interested in my sweetheart, Kyle.”

  I burst out laughing. “Yeah, well you don’t know him like I do.”

  “Oh, honey, I wish I did…”

  Well, in that sense… maybe…

  I helped her up—still laughing—as we moved into the pool room where the majority of her exercises today were centered.

  “Well, if you want my opinion,” she was going to give it to me anyway, “I’d start including yourself in some of his exercises. Mmm… mmm… mmm…”

  “You just don’t want any competition for Kyle.”

  I helped her into the pool. “Well, that is an added benefit.”

  “Unfortunately, Miss Betty, it’s not that simple.” I turned on the treadmill. “He doesn’t want me and I shouldn’t want him.”

  “Oh, psh.” She waved her hand, splattering me with water drops. “I saw the way that boy looked at you. Saying he doesn’t want you is like saying that Kim Kardashian doesn’t have a big butt. I mean, have you seen that thing? Anyway, that is the biggest falsehood if I ever heard one.”

  Oh. My. God. This time there were tears i
n my eyes.

  “Ok, I’ll admit that you aren’t completely wrong, but in the end, all he wants is to break my heart.”

  “Sometimes, dear, there is beauty in the breaking.” She paused for a few moments letting her words of wisdom linger.

  I wasn’t sure about that. There was no beauty the last time that I broke. The last time I broke, I ended up losing even more than just Chance.

  Betty continued just as my eyes started to collect tears from the memories that suddenly assaulted me. “What do you want, Miss Jessa?”

  To be his. Whole. Broken. In any way that he would have me. In any way that I could manage to survive.

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know that I can do this… with him… again. It’s all so frustrating.” She didn’t even know the whole story, so I wasn’t sure who exactly I was admitting that to. But hearing the words felt good. Telling them to an unbiased ear felt good.

  “Well, dear, all I know is that you don’t know until you try. If you are frustrated that he is making this difficult, then don’t let him continue to have the upper hand.”

  “Upper hand?” My eyebrows shot up like a freaking Whack-a-Mole. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  Pretty sure that I wasn’t letting him do anything. You don’t let a SnowmassHole do something; they do what they want and everyone else deals with the consequences.

  “All I know is what I see—and what I see tells me that that boy wants to be in your pants just as much as you want him there. So, don’t fool yourself into thinking that wanting him is only putting you at risk.”

  “I can see you aren’t one to mince words.” I felt like my grandmother was telling me that Chance wanted to bang me. On the one hand, it didn’t seem right. On the other… I kept talking. “You are playing pretty fast-and-loose with my heart there,” I said wryly, turning off the HydroWorx and handing her a towel, our session done for the day.

  “I have been in this world a long time, missy, I know what a man who is completely captivated looks like. What I’m telling you is that just because he might never admit to that weakness, doesn’t mean it’s not there. So, stop letting him frustrate you and maybe return the favor a bit.”

  “I—“ I wanted to tell her that Chance didn’t really want me—he just wanted to hurt me. She cut me off before I could.

  “Whether he really thinks he’s going to break your heart is irrelevant. When a man has something… someone… in his sights like this, he will stop at nothing. Men aren’t that smart, dear. Especially when they are being influenced by what’s in their pants. He hasn’t realized that breaking your heart will take you down with him.” She sighed, walking ahead of me towards the door. “The way you look at each other, dear. It’s inevitable. So, why miss out on the fun of the ride?”

  Oh, Betty…

  She was a bad influence. That was what I knew.

  Betty’s words stirred up every rebellious cell in my body, every thought that whispered to me just to give into him—and everything that I wanted. I couldn’t eat lunch I was so anxious to see him after Saturday. The way my body vibrated, you’d think I was having the delirium tremens from being deprived of alcohol, or in this case, my drug of choice… of Chance.

  Ups. Downs. Highs. Lows. Doing this ride again with him might kill me.

  His expression when he walked into the facility managed to be even harder than his jawline—an impressive feat; one that I knew meant that I was in trouble.

  He barely greeted me before heading into the locker room to change. The stony silence continued into the pool room where, today, we were not alone. I sat, crossing my legs as he stripped and climbed into the pool; I’d learned that not even the practical cotton panties that I’d purchased would prevent me from soaking right through my scrubs at the sight of his hard, sculpted body. Whoever told him that those tiny-ass bathing suits were necessary was a Godsend. I increased the incline and he immediately started the treadmill.

  “How is your knee feeling today?”

  “Tight.” Just like his voice. And just like my body.

  “Well, we’ll work back into the week nice and slow, opening up those muscles again.” I spoke mostly just to fill the silence between us, seeing as how the other two groups of patients and therapists were immersed in conversation.

  “Were you there to see him, Jessa?” he interrupted my talk of muscles a minute later.

  My cheeks heated as he returned to his question from the other night.

  “Kyle told me his band was playing and asked if I would come out and support him. So, yes, we did go to see him.” Safe. He was in the water; we weren’t alone. I was safe.

  I wondered if the other people in the room could see the tension that fogged around us. His angered possessiveness clashing with my determined defiance. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t; I couldn’t because he was fucking me with his eyes. His gaze punished me and penetrated me just like his body wanted to—going to the deepest place inside of me where only he had been and where I was afraid it was only he who was able to go. I clenched my legs tighter together as he pushed more furiously through the water. The rhythmic sound of the water lapping at the edge of the pool mimicking the thought of him pushing inside of me over and over again.

  I no longer cared that we were the only group not speaking. I was just lucky that I wasn’t moaning out loud. I bit my lip, watching his muscles strain, itching to dig my fingers into them as he held me.

  One by one, the other two trainers ended their time in the pool room, leaving Chance and me alone.

  My heart was beating louder than the jets in the pool—both of which stopped with a jolt as the timer went off.

  Time’s up.

  The treadmill inside the pool hadn’t even come to a stop before he was hoisting himself out. The water ran in streams over the rippled muscles of his body, evaporating off his skin from the heat of it. His suit was tight on the front. Very tight. He made no move to hide how aroused he was. Or that he was coming for me.

  Grabbing a towel, I stood, ignoring the ache between my thighs.

  I held the towel out and open for him—a white cloth wall and flimsy defense hanging in front of me ready to drop at the first provocation. He grabbed it and pulled it from my hands.

  I was done for.

  I stood frozen, ready… waiting… for whatever was next.

  Betty was right—I needed to know.

  Choking on my breath, I watched as he turned and stalked to the door, water dripping in his path like little breadcrumbs for me to follow him. He was leaving. Was I relieved or disappointed?

  He wasn’t leaving.

  The towel was bunched in his hand as he turned the lock on the door.

  Gulp.

  I began backing up as he turned to face me. “Chance…” My voice was shaking. Way to be convincing here, Jessa. I raised my hand—my finger—up as a last pitiful warning.

  I blinked and he was in front of me again—not touching me. Not yet.

  “W-what’s happening? What are you doing?” I whispered hoarsely.

  “What’s going on between you and that asswipe?” His sculpted face was a study in brooding beauty, his eyes two bright spots of burning blue.

  “Ok, first off, his name is Kyle.” Chance growled at me and stepped closer. The act of breathing now getting my scrubs wet.

  “I don’t give a fuck what his name is, Jessa. Your name, however, is mine.” His harsh breath beat against my skin. “What is going on between the two of you?”

  Anger and desire burned in my stomach. “Nothing! Certainly not as much as what’s going on between you and Monroe.”

  Shit.

  I’d played right into his hand. My face heated as my jealousy got the better of me—but how dare he question me when he was the one fucking my co-worker every afternoon?

  He crowded me against the back wall, fingers gripping my chin. Cornered. Defenseless. I defiantly met his gaze, quickly realizing that the burning desire I felt meant that he was winning t
his war from the inside out.

  “Jealous?” He rubbed my lower lip, teasing the flesh. I fought to not dart my tongue out and lick it—and maybe him. “Let me remind you, J-bird, you were the one who made your bed and didn’t want me in it.”

  Anger sparked inside of my desire and I countered, “You were the one who asked about Kyle first. Are you jealous?”

  Both of our breaths caught in sync. I stared at him and the hard truth that was quickly launching us down a path from which we couldn’t return. I was vulnerable, but he already knew that. Now, though, I saw a hint of vulnerability in him peeking out through the stress fractures in his persona—fractures caused by forcing himself to be too cold and too harsh for too long.

  I wondered if I had done this to him… if he been like this for eight years.

  That was the thought that scared me the most.

  His response was to crush his lips to mine. And mine fought back.

  This kiss was neither tender nor sweet. Our mouths fought for control—fought for possession—fought to not be the one to lose. This was how it had always been—desperately devouring each other. We fought time. We fought pain. We fought through everything that should tear us apart in order to have one moment together.

  I was fucked.

  First, with his eyes. Now, with his mouth.

  My fingers dug into the wall behind me. There was a thin shred of control keeping us from taking this to the floor. I couldn’t tip the balance. Vaguely, I was still conscious of the fact that I was at work.

  His hand cupped my chin, tilting my head back as he pulled my lip between his teeth.

  “How bad do you want me, J-bird?”

  He knew how badly. Asshole.

  “I don’t.”

  He moved the oceans inside of me and I tried to turn it into a sea of lies. I failed.

  The lie earned me another punishing kiss. We had to stop. Someone was going to see. A strangled moan tore from my lips as he pulled back again.

  “I just got out of the pool, Jessa, but I’d bet every remaining miserable piece of my life that that sweet pussy of yours needs this towel far more than I do.”