UFL Training Center
Las Vegas, NV
February 14th
Jonah
I’m cranking out my last tricep press when the door to the gym opens. From the reflection in the mirror I watch as Blake and his little brother Braeden head my way. Where Brae is all swag and confidence, Blake’s looking a little tore up.
I rack my weight and turn to them. “You assholes are late.”
Brae shakes his head and throws a thumb to his brother. “Because of this dickhead.”
Blake cringes and—shit, is he limping?
“You okay, B?”
He comes closer then drops down on the weight bench, his knees wide and an arm propped behind him so he can lean back. “No. I’m very much not fucking okay.”
Brae cough-laughs then covers his mouth with a mumbled apology.
Wiping the sweat from my face, I prop a hip on the weight stack. “What happened? You injured?”
“Yeah, bro.” The younger Daniels grins into his shoulder and clears his throat. “Why don’t you tell Jonah what happened.”
Blake glares at his brother and then shifts his ass on the seat and groans. “Valentine’s Day. That’s what happened.”
I know V-Day is a big deal to Blake and Layla, after all, it was the night their worlds fucking imploded and what ultimately brought them together. But that doesn’t explain why the guy is acting like he has a hot coal shoved up his ass.
“Um…” Braeden lifts his eyebrows. “That’s not exactly the whole story.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you, fucker.” Blake moves to get up and hisses through his teeth then drops back down.
“Someone better start talking. If you’re injured you need to see the doc.”
A laugh bursts out of Brae’s lips, but like before he covers it and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I just…” More throat clearing. “I don’t think there’s anything the doc can do for my brother.” Annnd more laughing.
“What the fuck?” I’m practically growling and I swear I’d shake the information out of Blake if he didn’t look like he was hurting so badly. “Talk.”
Blake heaves out a heavy sigh and leans forward although the action looks hella painful. He eyeballs the room, the only other people in here are clear across the thousand square foot space working the cardio machines. Once he’s convinced he won’t be heard he mouths something to me.
I squint. “Your flow and flick?”
His eyes grow wide. “No!”
He mouths it again, this time in a whisper but I can’t hear shit over Braeden who’s choking on his own laughter.
“You…grow a stick.”
“Dude,” Blake growls.
“What? I can’t fucking hear you—”
“I broke my dick!”
There’s a collective gasp from everyone in the room, all except Brae who is now doubled over, hands on his knees, trying to suck in precious oxygen.
My hand instinctively goes to my junk where I cup and massage my shit saying a silent prayer of thanks that it’s in good health. “How the hell did you do that?”
He closes his eyes and does some labor breathing through what I assume to be a twinge of pain, then focuses on me after it passes. “I wanted to do something special for Layla, ya know, this being Valentine’s Day and all.”
Brae waves his hand around, his face red, tears building in his eyes. “I can’t…this is too fucking funny…stop…my stomach.”
Blake lunges, smacks his brother upside the head, only to fall back with both hands between his legs. “Damn, see what you did?”
Braeden’s laugh now has zero sound.
“Go on.” I cross my arms over my chest and focus on all the brightly colored tats on my forearms to keep from joining the younger Daniels. I haven’t even heard the story yet, but knowing Blake I can only imagine the dickface did something stupid.
“So I woke her up, ya know?” For the first time since he stepped in here, he smiles and it’s all kinds of dirty.
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Right, so I hooked her up first.” He winks. “Twice.”
“Nice.”
“You can imagine how things were going…down there.” He nods to the space between his legs. “I was roarin’ to go, if you know what I mea—”
“I know what you mean.”
“But it’s a special day for us, so…” He glares at his brother who’s now crouched and still sucking air where he can get it. “I wanted to do something special.”
“Please tell me you didn’t put your dick somewhere it doesn’t belong.” I pinch the bridge of my nose feeling like asking Blake to explain might have been a bad idea. They don’t make brain bleach strong enough to erase the images he’s capable of burning into my head.
“No. I didn’t. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m not some kind of perv.”
Another snort from Brae.
“I…” His gaze slides around the room then he leans in. “I gave her a show, ya know?”
“A show.” Wait, did he…?
“The wiener dance.”
Okay, so not totally pervy. Any guy out there who says he’s never blessed his woman with a little dick-helicopter action is a liar. “That doesn’t make sense, I mean how…” My eyes widen when realization hits. “Oh shit…”
He recoils and nods. “Yeah.”
“Dude, Blake, you can’t do an aggressive wiener dance when you’re rock hard, man.”
He stares up at me with a dry expression. “You don’t say.”
“Tell him the rest.” Brae’s back to his feet, but he’s wiping tears from his eyes.
“I was braced, had good form, hands on my hips, great rotation, and then bam! It hurt like hell. Felt like someone took a Samurai sword to my good-n-plenties.” He huffs out a breath. “I dropped hard. Fell straight to the floor and rolled to my stomach—”
I suck in air through my teeth. “Ouch.”
“Exactly. And tonight is always the best night for us, but I fucked it all up.”
“I got this, dude.” Brae pats his chest and there’s humor in his voice. “I’ll take care of Layla tonight—”
Blake rushes him again, but Brae dodges him, which is easy to do since he’s moving at a slugs pace. “I hate you.”
“You love me.” His brother winks and moves to the leg press machine mumbling, “Fuck, that’s some funny shit.”
“You good to workout?” I’m fighting a grin.
“Hell.” He stands and hobbles to the weights. “It’s the only kind of workout I’ll be able to get for a while, so…fuck. This sucks.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll survive to fuck another day, bro.”
“Stupid helicopter,” he mumbles.
And then I proceed to lose it.
“Laugh it up.” He glares at me. “Happy Valentine’s Day, prick.”