Page 128 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“Heart set on a gold medalist?”
My stomach flips from the mention of Reese being a gold medalist and then I remember, he hasn’t spoken to me since he’s been home. That last little ray of hope I had for when he returned vanished the minute he didn’t come see me. And still hasn’t.
But what did I really expect? I left him during the most important time of his life, probably mind-fucked him pretty good, and didn’t even give him an explanation. Hell, I would stop talking to me as well.
I shrug. “It’s all could have beens by now. But I’m happy for him, so beyond happy for him.”
Jasper doesn’t say anything, just thins his lips as he seems to ponder what I said.
Breaking the silence, he asks, “So, are you in?”
“Absolutely,” I respond, loving that at least one piece of my life is back in the game.
“Good, because you’re the only one I want. You start tomorrow. Now, I will take the peanut butter pancakes, a side of bacon, and some orange juice.”
“You got it.” I smile, feeling a little renewed. Looks like Jonathan is still looking out for me. I owe him a lot, just not a flash of my boobs. Those are saved for one man . . . well, at least they used to be.
I walk back to the register and key in Jonathan’s order while my hearts sags in my chest. Yes, I might have a job, but I’ve realized it’s not what is going to make me happy on this roller coaster of life. I once thought I was the type of person who was career-driven and wanted nothing but to climb the professional ladder. There might be a little bit of that spirit inside me, but what makes me truly happy, where nothing can probe through my joy, is being in Reese’s arms, listening to his husky voice speak closely in my ear while his hand twirls my hair.
He makes me happy. He is the reason there was a smile on my face when I woke up in the morning.
Without him, I feel empty, lost, and broken. He’s changed my entire perspective on life and made me see that a strong bond between two souls provides more happiness than any job or raise ever will.
If only I could keep him. But a girl can’t be that lucky. She can’t have everything.
If I had the choice, I would keep him over any job, too bad that wasn’t the ultimatum Bellini gave me.
Chapter Thirty
**REESE**
Being an Olympic athlete, I’m used to pressure, I’m used to feeling the heat of a situation, so you would think I would be mentally prepared for what I’m about to face. However, by no means am I ready.
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen Paisley, since she was forced out of Brazil and away from me. I had wanted to fly back immediately to find her, but unfortunately, I had interview obligations and couldn’t catch the next flight like I wanted. Apparently being an athlete who’s won one single gold puts you on the top of the list of most important people. I’ve answered the question, “How does it feel to FINALLY have a gold?” so many damn times I’m about ready to punch the next person who asks.
When I got back to the States, I didn’t rush to Paisley either, not because I didn’t want her, not because she wasn’t on my mind every second of the day, but because I wanted her in all the right ways, on good terms. That’s why I had to get out of my contract withRollin’ in The Bacon, which was surprisingly pretty easy. Thank you, test viewers. In addition to contractually separating myself from Bellini, I had to verbally tell her as well. If you can believe it, it wasn’t the best conversation I’ve ever had.
I was called every insult in the Bellini handbook ranging from an open-mouth carp face, to barnacle breath, to pre-pubescent mer-man. I then had to listen to her pray with Pope Francis about my sins who looked at me with the least judgmental eyes, silently giving me his blessing.
You think it’s stupid that I can tell if a dog is judging me or not, don’t you? Well, have you ever had a dog give you side-eyes? If you have, you know what I’m talking about. Any dog who side-eyes you straight up is judging the fuck out of you. But not Pope Francis, he exudes kindness. Pretty sure he was begging me to free him from the purgatory he is living in. Poor fella.
After I dealt with Satan’s Mistress, I got my affairs in order, talked to my lawyer and started the Children’s Swim camp I’d always wanted to establish. I have little camps here and there, but this was something I wanted to do year around. And thanks to my epic last race, Ashley was able to score me multiple endorsements to help my camp become a reality.
I finally felt like I was in the right frame of mind to devote myself to Paisley. There was only one thing standing in my way.
The door in front of me opens and I’m greeted with a frown.
“She’s not here, dickhead,” Jonathan says as he goes to shut the door.
I palm the wood and stop him from closing it all the way. “I’m here to talk to you.”
A little shocked, he opens the door and says, “Me? What the hell do you want to talk to me about?”
I nod at the living room. “Let me in and then we can discuss it. I would rather not do this in the hallway of your apartment.”
Rolling his eyes, he leaves the door open and goes back to his cold beer on the coffee table in front of his couch. Loving the warm welcome, I step inside, shut his door, and help myself to a beer only to sit on the couch next to him.
Baseball highlights play on the television as we both stare in that direction, not saying a word. Thankfully, my training days are over so I can enjoy the full-strength beer I’m drinking. It feels good not to have to watch every single thing I put in my body, refreshing actually. But don’t get me wrong, I won’t be one of those athletes who “let’s themselves go.” Fuck, no. I plan on keeping a good body for my girl.
