Page 31 of Work It Out
Blaine cuddled her close to his chest, his heart pounding against her ear. The reckless need that had been missing from his kiss was right there in that frantic beat. Meanwhile her heart had gone sluggish and achy with the knowledge that they would never be the same. And they’d never be together the way he wanted.
He nudged her chin up, searching her eyes. She looked away, knowing he’d see it all, and he’d hate her. She’d lose him, too.
“Aww, Ray-Ray.” Another sigh gusted from his chest, but this one shook in places. “Baby, don’t cry.”
She wasn’t sure why, but that broke something in her.
“Don’t.” Hands shaking, she shoved against his chest. He didn’t hesitate to back away. She touched two quivering fingers to her lips and shook her head. “Just don’t. I can’t… I have to go,” she croaked, forcing the sudden flare of panic down deep as she launched herself off the counter.
“Don’t go to him.” Blaine’s deep whisper cracked at the end. “I won’t push for more. You don’t have to stay with me, just…” He furrowed his fingers into his long, sandy hair and pulled. “Just don’t go to him.”
She bit back the growl growing in her throat. “This isn’t a soap opera. I’m not ‘going to him.’ I’m going home. He just happens to be there.”
His hands dropped to his sides and his eyes turned glacial. “Oh, please. Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen the way you look at him. I know you think you’re a little badass who can do whatever she wants, but you’re not cut out for casual sex, and that’s all a guy like that will ever want from you.”
If he’d slapped her, it might’ve hurt less.
No matter how fierce he said she was, when he looked at her, all he’d ever see was the shattered girl she’d been, the one who wasn’t strong enough or brave enough to be loved by anyone who wasn’t as screwed up as she was.
Maybe that was all she’d ever be.
Maybe it was all either of them would ever be.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes as she picked up her duffel bag. He cursed under his breath, but he didn’t stop her when she strode past him and out the door.
Chapter Nine
Two years ago
Hollywood Tattler
It’s official, ladies! Jake Newman is back on the market. After eighteen steamy months, he and actress Yvonne Vastin have called it quits. We here atThe Tattlerhave to admit, we didn’t see this one coming. Could the sudden split have anything to do with co-star Victoria Miller’s recent eighteenth birthday? Only time will tell.
Pierce hung around the cabin long enough to yell at Jake to drink more water and not be a dumbass. Jake wanted to believe all that angst came from a place of love, but Pierce scoffed. “Hell, no. Rayah cornered me while you were in the locker room. She had that special look in her eye, the one that makes a person do whatever she says and keep a close eye on their coffee.”
Jake might’ve rolled his eyes, except even his eyeballs hurt. When he finally got rid of Pierce, he hauled his stuff out of her room, jumped in the coldest shower he could bear, and moved as little as humanly possible while still getting clean. His muscles weren’t sore exactly. This was the exhausted, shaky kind of Jell-O ache that warned moving tomorrow would be a bitch.
A nice soak in a hot tub might’ve helped, but Rayah’s place only had a shower stall. Probably for the best. Hot water would’ve made him vomit, if he didn’t pass out in the tub and drown himself first. The icy water wasn’t all bad, though. It calmed his system and cleared some of the brain fog from his humiliating trip to the mats. It also reminded Jake junior that sharing a house with his favorite pocket-size goddess wasn’t the same thing as sharing her bed.
He needed to let Rayah know he’d moved his stuff into the smaller bedroom, and that he wasn’t interested in arguing about it. Unfortunately, he sat on the shower’s built-in seat too long. When he finally wrapped a towel around his waist, his only thought was to collapse onto his new bed and hope it was as comfortable as hers.
Though the hour wasn’t terribly late, the sun set early this time of year. Weak rectangles of moonlight drifted through the skylight, giving what little he could see a silvery cast. He stumbled the last few feet and face planted in the middle of the mattress with a groan that came from his toes. Bliss. The thing could’ve been stuffed with rocks for all he cared. Being horizontal felt heavenly. He’d laid out a pair of pajama bottoms to sleep in, but that shit wasn’t happening. Hell, turning the covers down sounded like too much work. His arms and legs weighed a thousand pounds and his eyes…
…
Sometime later, he heard the bedroom door open and close. In the back of his mind, warning bells sounded, but he was trapped in the twilight between sleep and waking and couldn’t pry his tired eyes open. He’d forgotten something, something important, but he couldn’t catch hold of the thought.
More strange noises wafted through his dreams: a heavy thud and two smaller ones, another door shutting, heavy rain and soft sobs. The last nudged at him again. It wasn’t right. She shouldn’t cry. She was too sweet, too good. She deserved cookies, too. But the thoughts continued to drift through his mind like smoke on a breeze until the bed dipped beside him and the lemony scent of her washed over his senses. He loved lemons.
Jake reached out one hand, his fingertips grazing soft, warm skin—
A high-pitched scream and a hard shove woke him in time to experience the full impact of his butt hitting the hardwood.
“Jake?” Rayah screeched. “What are you doing in here?”
He sat up slowly. She stood in a pale patch of moonlight, clutching a towel to her breasts, her hair piled atop her head in a glorious mess. Bits of that silky skin peeked out on either side of the cloth and negated every second Jake junior had spent in the icy water. Man, her curvy little body pushed every one of his buttons.
He should look away. Any second now…
