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“Please don’t arrest them, sir. It was just a misunderstanding. I just wanted them to stop!”
I cringed when she told them that. I’m glad she called the cops, to be fair. I was ready to leave by the thirteenth punch to my gut. They let me go peacefully. I texted Brock, letting him know I’ll walk and meet him by the beach.
Now that I’ve got that monthly fight out of the way, I can enjoy my trip to Europe. If I’m able to even play.
Brock’s text comes through as I wait by the beach:
BROCK:Sorry, dude. Sarah’s dragging me to the bookstore. Call an Uber?
Well, shit. A walk back to campus it is, then.
That fight felt worse than last time. My left leg feels shot, and I feel like I was dragged through a wringer. I look down at my watch. It’s a bit hard to see, so I squint.Ten more hours. Ten more hours before I’m on a flight to Slovakia.Shit.
LEIA
My legs...have never...seen...this...much...pain.
Coach decided doing plyometric jumps and sprints at the same time was the way to go. One last workout at St. Mary’s Olympic track before leaving the country was definitely her idea, because I would never subject myself to such torture.
Ugh, I can’t wait to get to my dorm and call Jake. It’s been a full day since we’ve seen each other...and I’m kind of worried. He usually texts or calls at least once throughout the day.
It’s almost dark, and nothing’s in sight for a few miles except the beach. As I turn onto the Pacific Coast Highway, I notice a figure...a figure I notice.
But he’s limping. I stop, roll my window down, and my heart sinks when I see the damage done.
“Jake?”
He stops moving and looks to me slowly. A slow smile slides across his face, making him wince, and it breaks me all over again. I jump out, put my arm around his body—nearly 200 lbs.—and put him in my passenger seat. What the hell happened?
We get back to my dorm, and I instantly change into my pajamas. His wounds are going to take a while to mend. But I can’t mend them if Jake won’t stop reaching for my boobs.
“Jake, stop. I’m trying to fix you.”
I’m wearing a white tank top and shorts to match. Luckily, Taya and Sarah said they’re staying at the guys’ frat tonight, so I have the alone time to take care of Jake.
“You can fix me by taking your shirt off, babe. I can cope.”
I can’t stop the smile from forming on my face. “Larson—”
“I wanna see you, baby. Let me see this gorgeous rack.” His face is pleading, but his eyes are focused on my chest. Sighing, I slip my shirt off, and my favorite fuchsia bra is exposed. He growls his content. “That’s more like it. Come here.”
“Jake, I need to clean these wounds. You have my boobs, now you can admire them from a distance.”
He grunts as if I took a lollipop from him. I snort in response. “You don’t play fair.”
I certainly do not. But I also just love teasing him.
“If you wanna play at all, I suggest you let me clean these wounds.” I look at the clock on my side table. It’s 11:08 p.m. I want to laugh. There’s no way we’re doing anything after I clean these wounds. The flight tomorrow is early, and I don’t see myself being lucid enough to do whatever Jake Larson’s eyes say he wants to do.
“Yes, ma’am.” I can spot the smile in his voice. His hands roam over my stomach and reach up, gently squeezing my boobs. The sensation sends heat through my core.
“You have the perfect body, babe.”
“Thanks, babe,” I sigh. He’s making it so hard to treat these wounds.
“I mean, it must’ve been hard work for these legs.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yeah, it was pretty much hard work.” He takes the gauze and peroxide from me. I can tell from the heat in his gaze his wheels are spinning. He puts it beside him on the bed and grabs my hips. “What are you doing?”
