Too Consumed

Page 11

“All of the above.”
He laughs once and slaps the steering wheel. “I knew you weren’t going to tell me, I’m such a sucker! I guess we’re going to have to do them all.”
“All of them?” I squeeze my thighs tighter at the thought.
He nods. “I’ll decide which one drives you crazy the most.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you’d turn this into a challenge.”
“Hell, yes, and it just might be my favorite challenge yet.”
***
The car rolls to a stop in front of my house and I linger in my seat a little longer before I unclip my belt. I hate leaving Seth and I hate sleeping without him.
“Don’t worry about your car. I’ll pick it up for you tomorrow morning and bring it back before you start work.”
I smile, remembering that my work is managing my father’s old gym with my current professional fighter boyfriend. My life was so different a few months ago…who would’ve thought I’d be here now.
“You don’t have to. I can catch a bus to the gym or walk.”
“Fuck that. Your car will be here waiting for you when you’re ready to leave.”
I nod, not wanting to upset Mr. Bossyboots. I lean across the center console and kiss him on his lips. “Thank you.”
He kisses me back. “I’ll see you in the morning. Tell your brother I said hi.”
“I will.” I grab my backpack off the floor between my feet and exit the car. Before I close the door, I turn to Seth and say, “It’s sitting on you, by the way.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Hm?”
I casually sling my backpack over my shoulder. “My favorite position…it’s sitting on you.”
His lips part as I close the door and step onto the sidewalk. Without looking back, I open the gate, walk up the path, and enter the house. My body buzzes at the thought of sexually frustrating him, and if that isn’t going to keep him up tonight, then I don’t know what will.
Chapter Five
Seth
Holy fucking hell. I have half a mind to turn my car around, kick her door down and force her to ride me…I can’t imagine her mother or her brother appreciating that very much, though. I smile to myself. What a sexy little minx. She did it on purpose, too; undoubtedly because I chose not to have sex in the shower tonight which, by the way, was a fucking hard decision, especially after I already had her taste on my tongue. I didn’t avoid having sex with her purely because I wanted to rock her world without demeaning her in front of Jackson and Selena who, let’s face it, love to torment her every chance they get. I also didn’t have sex with her because I wanted to show her that I’m more than happy taking care of her without wanting anything in return…girl’s love that shit, right?
“I like being close to your lips…I like to feel your breath on my face or in my ear and I like it when your hands glide over my arms and shoulders.”
To think the whole time I was thinking romantically, Olivia’s train of thought was the complete opposite of mine—naughty. I never intended to say that to her. It just flowed so easily from me, without thought and it wasn’t the first time today I’d said something I never intended to. I told her this afternoon that we’d have forever to do other things. What the hell was I thinking? Olivia and I haven’t really spoken about the future. I’m certain I want to marry her and be with her forever, but I know she doesn’t expect that from me and I don’t want to come off too strong. Will I ever have the balls to ask her what she wants? Will I ever have the balls to ask her to marry me? I’ve come close to asking a million times, but I pussy out at the last minute. It’s not like me. I’m very upfront. I say what I want and ignore the consequences, but I can’t fuck this up. It needs to be perfect. It needs to be everything she’s ever wanted. When I said ‘forever,’ I felt her eyes on me—analyzing me. I wanted to look at her, to read her expression, but I didn’t for sake of being scared to see her displeased. I felt the disbelief in her posture. It was an uncertain hunch, like she was unsure if I’m for real or not.
I am.
I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I need Olivia. I need her to wear the ring I give her, carry my last name, and live in the house I buy for us and our family, if we have one. I haven’t asked her yet because I’m scared. What if she says no? What if this relationship is only fun—temporary? I can’t handle that. I can’t take no for an answer and I won’t. To be without her isn’t an option. I run my hand over my face. There I go sounding like a fucking serial killer again. I can’t help it, though. In my mind it’s her or nothing.
***
I open my door with caution, unsure of what I’m walking into. Knowing Jackson, he’d start in the pool and finish somewhere between the kitchen and the front door, doing God knows what. I slip inside and close the door behind me. The house is quiet. There are no moans—or screams—it’s silent, as if everyone is in bed. With a sigh of relief, I kick off my shoes and pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping to fend off some of my tiredness until I get into bed.
“Hey man, you’re back.”
I stop in my tracks, slowly turning my head toward my living room. Jackson is sitting on the couch shirtless, but with pants on—thank fuck—and a cold beer in his hand. I scan the living room, looking for Selena. I wait a few seconds before I respond, expecting her to pop out from somewhere. She doesn’t.
“She’s sleeping,” Jackson says, sipping on his beer.
I notice the way his jaw clenches and on Jackson, that’s never a good sign. I wasn’t gone longer than an hour, but I guess that’s plenty of time for them to fuck and fight.
I stroll into the living room and drop into the armchair, crossing my legs at the ankles. I never ask Jackson what happened. Usually, I wait until he finds the right words.
“I think I fucked up…”
I don’t say anything, not yet.
“She called me again.”
My chest tightens and I sit forward in my chair. “Amelia?”
He nods, taking another large sip at his beer. “She hasn’t called me in months, not since I moved to Portland…I wasn’t expecting her to call me ever again.”
“What did she want?”
“I don’t know. I told Selena to check my phone, thinking it was you, and she asked me who Amelia was.”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell her, Seth. I don’t ever want her knowing who Amelia is…what she did—what I did.”
I nod. Amelia was Jackson’s first love. The woman who literally chewed him up and spat him back out. She’s a real piece of work—a sadistic, controlling whore who loves nothing more than to fuck with people’s minds. Feelings, love and sex…to her it’s one big game.
“Always playing games,” I scoff, crossing my arms.
“You should have seen Selena’s face…” Jackson rakes a hand through his hair.
“She went to bed straight after that?”
“Yeah…”
I frown. “And you haven’t gone up yet?”
He shakes his head, his eyes flicking to his mobile phone. Motherfucker. He’s waiting for Amelia to call back. Fuck no! She’ll never talk to him again, not if I have anything to do with it. I launch myself out of my armchair, grab Jackson’s phone and throw it, sending it crashing against my wall and falling into bits and pieces on the carpet.
“Fuck that shit, Jacks. What are you doing sitting down here and waiting for her to call you back? Don’t you remember what state you were in the last time you let her sink her claws into you?”
I do. I remember it clearly. He was fucked up on everything, drugs and alcohol—he was borderlining a trip to the mental hospital, that’s how fucked up he was. No way am I going to let him go through that shit again.
Jackson barely bats an eyelid as I tower over him.
“Put the goddamn beer down and get your ass upstairs before you do anymore damage.”
Jackson may not admit it—ever—(and I can’t believe I’m admitting it) but Selena is good for him. She’s a lot like him in a way and can certainly take a lot of his shit. I thought Jackson was moving on from Amelia, the grown-ass woman who ruined his teenage years.
Obviously not.
I can’t say what happened between them exactly because I don’t know. Jackson refuses to tell anyone the full story.
“I don’t want to go up there.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t look her in the face, I can’t explain what just happened.”
“Then don’t, but don’t sit down here leaving her alone all night upstairs with her own thoughts. You know how girls are, they over-think things.”
He drops his head.
“Look at me,” I demand, my voice coming out a lot more aggressive than I really feel. He hesitates before dragging his green gaze to mine. “When you first met Selena I told you to stay away because I didn’t want your fucked up issues to ruin my chances with Olivia and somehow, I get the feeling you not going upstairs right now will do just that. You might be having fun and Selena might not mean much to you, but Olivia means the world to me and I won’t let you fuck it up.”
He grits his teeth before raking the top row across his bottom lip. “You’re wrong.”
“What?”
“Selena means a lot to me…”
I feel my face straighten out in surprise. There isn’t much that can surprise me anymore, I’ve seen it all…but this I didn’t see coming. “Then prove it.”
With a heavy sigh, Jackson rises to his feet and slams back the rest of his beer. He hands the empty bottle to me and I take it.
“You owe me a phone.”
“Gladly.”
I don’t move until he disappears through the kitchen. When he’s gone, I stroll from the living room into the kitchen. I drop the empty beer bottle into the bin and flick out the lights before sauntering up the stairs in the darkness. When I reach the top, I hear quiet murmurs of conversation coming from their room. I hope he tells her and I hope she takes it well—whatever ‘it’ is, and if he doesn’t tell her, I hope one day he’ll reveal his story, if not to me, then at least to someone he loves.
***
(T-minus five days until Vegas)
“Roll into him, get away from his legs!” Darryl orders and I follow, rolling my hips and getting out of Jackson’s submission. I push off of him, my chest burning heavily. Coming mainly from boxing, my ground work isn’t too great and it takes a lot out of me once I’m down. My main goal in any fight is to keep standing, be quick, and never give my back to the opponent. I get that once you’re on the ground it’s difficult to defend yourself when they’re on top and punching you in the face, but the last thing you should do is roll over and give them your back. Rear naked chokes fucking suck and will have you tapping out like a bitch within seconds. Unfortunately for me, my first opponent is world wrestling champion, Junior Moset, known for his killer ground game and hardcore submissions.
“Good.” Darryl exhales, putting his stopwatch down and stepping onto the mat.
We turned one of the training rooms into a private room for me, complete with my very own cage and training mats. The MMAC had issues with the way I trained and would prefer me to follow some of their methods—mats, ropes, gloves—everything.
“Now I’ll show you how to prevent a rear naked choke,” he says, sitting on the mat. He nods his head to Jackson and he slides in behind Darryl. “Most rear naked chokes will come in from behind.”
He shifts backwards and Jackson wraps his legs around Darryl’s waist, attempting to hold him across the chest.
“What we don’t want is for your opponent to connect his hands, because it won’t take long for him to wrap that arm around your neck. As one hand comes over the shoulder and the other underneath the opposite arm, push your shoulders up and keep your chin down. Then, grab the upper and clamp down on the second so he has no mobility. When you’ve done that, drive to the underhook side and put the back of your head on the floor.”
I watch as Darryl plays it out with Jackson.
“As that happens, let go of his arm and wriggle until your shoulders and hips are firmly on the ground. As you get out—and any good grappler will do this—your opponent is going to try and roll on top. When he does,” Darryl slides out from underneath his opponent, establishing a half guard. “Go either half guard or full guard, keep him away with your legs, and work on getting yourself back to your feet.”
Darryl jumps to his feet. “Try it.”
I drop into a seated position on the mat as Jackson wraps his legs around my waist. As his hands come around to choke me from behind, I grab his arm, clamp down, and drive myself to the side. I follow Darryl’s orders step by step until I’m on my back and keeping my opponent away with my feet.
“Great,” Darryl cheers. “A few more techniques and hopefully we can perfect your ground work before the fight.”
I climb to my feet and Darryl slaps me on the back as Jackson hands me a bottle of water. He smiles at me—a genuine smile—and I assume he and Selena made up last night. They were gone before I got up this morning. I stroll over to the windows and hit the button so I can see out into the gym. We’re doing pretty well today—especially for this early in the morning. Classes are cranking, we have boxers, runners, cyclists, and rowers all doing their thing. It’s good to see Rick’s gym thriving without him. He’d be very proud if he was here with us now. The elevated, happy feeling I’ve got in the pit of my stomach drops the moment I see him step through the door. My stare rakes over his bald head and seedy face.