Page 79 of Work It Out
Motherfucker. Jake squeezed her to him, pressed his face to her hair, and breathed in her lemony scent. She was here. She was safe. And last night she’d told him she’d never technically had intercourse. But still…
“After that, I made excuses to avoid physical therapy, but that only worked for a couple of weeks. I was going to lose my spot in the program if I didn’t figure something out. By the time I gathered the courage to talk to Dad, Mom was in hospice care.” A quiver entered her voice, and her words tumbled out on a broken whisper. “He told me I’d better get good at giving head, because if I got kicked off the team, he’d bury me next to Mom. Going to the Olympics was the only thing that had mattered to him since I did my first cartwheel. It was worse after Mom got sick, though. He was obsessed.”
“Back up.” Jake’s voice had gone icy enough to frighten himself. “Your father actually said that to you?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Her shoulders sagged. “Dad wouldn’t let me quit competing, which meant I had to keep seeing Dr. Orman. But I made a way out. Orman was escalating, and I couldn’t let him—” She shuddered. “I tried to talk to my coach, but he called me a liar and refused to report it. Word got back to my team, and all the girls turned on me. When Mom died, I just… I stopped caring about anything. I didn’t care what Dad said or what it cost me.
“I took a dive off the high bar and landed on my bad shoulder. I did it on purpose, Jake. It still wasn’t enough for Dad. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, didn’t have any money. The few endorsement deals I had, Dad managed. He made me go back to Orman for more rehab. That last time, I—” A hint of steel went back into her spine, and her stare dared him to judge her. “I bit him so hard, he needed ten stitches.”
And he’d joked about her biting him. God, he was an ass.
Jake ran a quaking hand over her hair. “I’d say I wish you’d bit the damn thing off, but that would’ve been more traumatic for you.”
She burrowed into his shoulder. “They kicked me out of the program, of course. My shoulder was a lot worse the second time around anyway. I arranged to go to a rehab facility on the other side of the country. They worked with vets a lot, too.”
“Including Blaine.”
“Including Blaine. After the allegations hit the media, Samuel’s uncle found other women Orman had abused, though none of them were willing to come forward. He’d been doing it for years, but only ever one girl at a time. Always the quiet one with problems at home—the one least likely to be believed or supported.
“It took years, Jake. I had to see him over and over and over for years. Samuel found a good therapist for me, but Orman stole years of my life. I won’t let him steal anything else from me. Certainly not this.” She ran one hand down the center of his chest and wiggled her ass against his lap. “I want this piece of my life back, and I want it with you. I just need you to be patient with me.”
“I’m not perfect. I can be a demanding diva and an insensitive ass. But for you? Yeah, for you, patience is an easy promise to make.” He chuckled at how true that was and stuck out his pinky. “Promise. Anything you need.”
Her lips quirked as she wrapped her pinky around his. “Is this going to become a thing?”
“If it makes you smile like that? Hell, yeah.” Slowly, he leaned in, rubbing his nose along her cheek and brushing her ear. She relaxed against him, her fears and uncertainty seeming to ease along with the tension in her muscles.
Rayah turned to press her lips to his. This kiss was different than any they’d shared before—a mere press of her soft mouth against his—and yet, somehow, so much more. The connection that had sizzled between them from the first day was almost tangible now. As her hands tangled in his hair, the realization of what she meant to him rocked him like an earthquake.
If she asked him to give it all up, to leave the career he lived and breathed and bled for for years, he wouldn’t hesitate. If she turned those big brown eyes on him and asked for the moon, he’d go to his grave trying to pull it from the sky.
Once, long, long ago, during his pre-girl-crazy years, Jake asked his grandpa why people got married if it meant getting bossed around all the time and having to do stuff they didn’t want to do. Gramps had laughed and said, “One day, you’ll meet someone who makes you feel like a hero for doing all that stuff you don’t want to do. When she bosses you around, you’ll just want to crow about the fact that she’syourboss and no one else’s. When the way she needs you isn’t a suffocating weight but the air you breathe, you’ll know she was meant to be yours, and you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she feels the same way about you.”
He’d heard that speech again almost word for word the first time he’d been dumped, then again when he’d almost married Yvonne. Every time he heard it, he’d thought his Gramps had gone senile awfully young. As he held Rayah against his heart, he finally understood what Gramps had meant.
This was what it felt like to love another person more than he loved himself.
Chapter Twenty-Six
November 8
Bigbone Community Facebook Group
Multiple spiny sightings have been reported already this morning. If you think you see one, comment here. This one’s just a baby. We’ve got to catch it!
-Z
Rayah needed a new word for late. “Late” was not being wherever she was supposed to be thirty minutes before she was supposed to be there. Arriving more than an hour after the appointed time… Yeah, “late” wasn’t harsh enough a word.
Still, even with dozens and dozens of judgmental glares accusing her of gross crimes against common courtesy, she couldn’t bring herself to care much. Her body hummed and her heart ached. For once, the pain in her chest wasn’t a bad thing.
Every athlete knew the trials of Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness, the deep, throbbing pain they were in for a day or two after working a muscle hard, especially if that muscle had gone unchallenged for some time. This was that kind of ache. Emotional DOMS.
She hadn’t ignored her heart exactly. She’d poured a whole lot of love into her business and her staff. She’d become exceptionally skilled at holding herself apart, however, watching over people she cared about without ever allowing them close enough to reciprocate—or close enough to fail to give back that same love. Blaine was the only possible exception but, even with him, she’d played it safe.
Muscles are far less likely to sustain injury when used regularly without overworking them. A static regimen, however, leaves no room for evolution. Muscle fibers require incredible trauma to grow. They must literally be ripped apart on a cellular level and allowed the time and nutrients necessary to rebuild bigger and stronger than before.
Over and over and over again.
