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Bliss
Everything hurts. There are muscles that are tightening that I didn't even know I had. I feel as if I fell from a building and got ran over by a semi. This pain was all thanks to the pole dancing class India talked me into taking this morning with her. Yes, I guess dancing on a metal pole really takes the life out of you. I have a new appreciation for strippers, they have the strength of a mule to pull themselves up that thing.
After a hot bath, I collapse on my bed, my towel still tightly wrapped around me. I have no energy to get dressed. Getting out of the tub was hard enough, my poor little arms. Looking at the clock, I see I have two hours to get dressed and get over to Cuba's place for our study session. I want to cancel, but the thought of learning more about him was too tempting. At this point, I'm intrigued. India has been biting her lip ever since I told her where I was going. I feel that if she felt I was in any kind of danger she would have told me, maybe Nick was just being dramatic. Cuba came off as an asshole, but dangerous? Not in the least.
I lie here for a few more minutes and groan at the thought of having to move. Maybe I can push the time back a little, I start to convince myself. Give my body time to heal. Yeah right, then I’ll never leave my bed. Like ever.
Moaning, I roll on to my side and rise onto my elbow. I quickly collapse. This is ridiculous, there is no way I can be this sore. The one time I need Indi’s help she isn’t home. Whore.
Mustering up some strength, I push myself to sit upright. It’s going to be a long day, a very long day.
It takes me almost forty-five minutes to get dressed in my favorite, soft grey leggings and worn, black off the shoulder top that I cut from one of Dex’s baseball t-shirts. At least he was good for something. Staring in the mirror, I frown at myself. I need to dye my hair soon, the whole new growth and fading blonde hair thing is starting to look a mess. Gathering my hair into a high ponytail, I ponder if I should put on make-up, I’ll pass. Skipping my contacts, I slide on my black ray bans that are held together with silver glitter tape on the nose. I snapped them in half one drunken night when I was a freshman and I refuse to part with them. My dad has tried buying me a new pair but nope, they have character, it’s not as if I wear them outside the house until now. Smiling, I wiggle my eyebrows at myself in the mirror. You’re hot stuff, Bliss.
Slipping on my glitter chucks, I grab my bag. They used to be white at one point, and I didn’t want to throw them away, Pinterest saved the day. I might come from money, but I’m never the one to show it off. I live on needs not wants. I drive a freaking lime green Prius, my way of saying go green. I’m pretty much half hippie, well, only half because I love a bacon cheeseburger as much as the next person and Chick-fil-A is life.
Grabbing my keys, I slide out the door, locking up behind me. I hope India has her key, I can’t cut Cuba’s session short again, he might get cocky and think I’m avoiding him. I let it slip that I was impressed until he opened his mouth, all he heard was I was impressed, the rest flew right over his head. Still I can’t believe I really agreed to come to him. Do I want to get to know him that bad? Ugh, yes, yes, I really do. I blame the part of my brain that needs to know everything and not the fact that Cuba is beyond sexy.
I get to his place ten minutes later, I didn’t realize he lived so close until I entered his address on Google maps. The condo complex he lives at is closer to the beach, I can see board walk in the distance as I park on the street. If it wasn’t for my back up camera, I would never would be able to parallel park.
Grabbing my messenger bag, I get out the car and wait until I hear the two beeps confirming that my doors locked. His place was easy to find since it was a few doors down from the street. I wonder if he has a roommate, these condos are big for one person. Knocking on the door, I take a deep breath and wait. I never come to my clients’ place or dorm room so I’m out of my element.
The door swings open and I come face to face with Cuba’s bare, wet chest. I can’t help but follow a drip of water as it slides down his ripped abs to his narrow hips that a towel hangs from. Oh, why must you temp me? Playing off my little stare, I shake my head and meet his eyes.
“Did you lose your shirt or something?” I try to sound annoyed, but my voice is anything but.
His hazel eyes shine, and his perfect lips are in that ‘I caught you’ smirk.
“I just got back from the gym, time must have gotten away from me.” He doesn’t sound too sorry that I’m seeing him like this.
“Right, so you want to get dressed? My time is precious, ya know.” We both know I have nowhere to be, but I cock an eyebrow as if I’m annoyed.
Stepping aside, he waves me in. “Make yourself at home.” He closes the door and disappears up the stairs on the left. “I’ll be right back.”
My eyes leave his naked, tattooed back and take in his place. You can tell a lot by someone’s personal space. Where they’ve been, who they are, and where they are going. Cuba letting me in here is telling me more then I bet he wants me to know. The smell of fresh linen and Cuba’s own personal scent of musk fills my senses. Signed basketball jerseys are in glass frames hanging on the wall. I don’t know much about the sport, but the name of the teams looks familiar. Under them is a dark brown leather couch. I bet it would mold to my body, that’s how soft and comfy it looks, a matching love seat sits to the right, with a dark glass coffee table in the middle. Sports magazines lay perfectly under the glass and an encased basketball sits on the corner table. He’s defiantly a basketball fan. I knew I wasn’t supposed to bring up the sport, but this isn’t making it any easier. Turning around, I continue my lurking, a huge flat screen hangs on the wall with the news playing so low I didn’t even know a T.V. was on. Two more jersey’s hang opposite of the T.V., this time I know the team, it’s the school basketball team. The last names Knight and Emmett are in white letters stitched on to the back of the blue and yellow jersey’s, numbers one and two under the names. He played for the school, no wonder India and Nick knew him. I’m going to guess Emmett is Jackson’s last name. Indi said this was Cuba post Jackson. What does that mean? Is Jackson gone?
I hear Cuba’s footsteps on the staircase and I hurry to the couch, taking my bag off, I flop back on the couch and groan. I forgot how sore I am, and I was right, the couch is so comfy I could settle here for the whole session.
“You okay? I thought I heard you groan.” He comes around from the hall. Gym shorts are now hanging low on his hips and a black tee hugs his broad shoulders and stretches against his chest.
His hazel eyes show concern.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just sore from this stupid class my roommate made me take this morning.” I wave him off, and start to pull out my laptop and notebook.
“What kind of class?”
I almost don't tell him what class but since he wants to open the door half naked I might as well play his little game, because I would be lying if I said there wasn’t any kind of attraction between us.
“Pole dancing.” I look up at him innocently. “Who knew it was such a workout.”
His eyes grow dark and sweep over my body quickly then he smiles. “I got some icy hot, need me to rub you down?”
Rolling my eyes, I set my laptop on the coffee table. “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather get started on our session.”
He shrugs. “Your loss, Ms. McQueen. You eat pizza, right? You're not a vegan or whatever?” He takes his phone out of his pocket. “I'm starving.”
“Yes, I eat meat, Cuba.” I roll my eyes. “Could we order from Niko's instead, I could go for a burger right now.”
His eyes widen. “Since when does Niko's deliver?”
