Chapter 7
Jax
The drive from the gym to Mav’s is about half an hour. By the time I get back, the tightness in my head has just started to descend. It’s a fucking pain in the arse, but I’ve got to keep reminding myself that it could be worse. Rule numero uno, kids, always wear safety gear when riding a bike.
The thirty minutes it takes me to get to Mav’s still isn’t enough to get Bentley out of my head. She’s a firecracker. I smile as I remember her spunk, then rub my dick. The poor dude may never fully recover from the torture grip she had him in. I know I won’t ever recover from our meeting today. As I walk into the house, I can’t wipe the smile off my face.
“What’s with you?” Mav asks when he sees me.
“Just a beautiful day to be alive, brother,” I tell him.
“Yeah,” he says, “but there’s more.”
“Can’t a guy be happy he’s been given the all-clear to resume a light training schedule?” I ask.
“Course you can,” my bro says as he snuggles with his lady on the couch, “but there’s more to your smile than exercise-related happiness.”
I smile and swagger over to a recliner. “I think I’m in love.”
Both Mav and Aubrey stop what they were doing to stare at me.
“Wha—” Mav begins.
“Who?” Aubrey asks.
Mav shakes his head. “In love? Really?” I nod. “So who’s the lucky lady?”
“Her name is Bentley. She’s a fighter at Bert’s gym.”
“That’s ah, that’s great,” Mav says, sounding very unconvincing.
“Yeah, really great,” Aubrey echoes. “So was it, um, love at first sight for her too?”
“Nah, but it will be.” Mav and Aubrey look at each other.
“What do you mean it will be?” Mav asks.
“We kind of kicked things off on a rough note,” I explain. “But that’s probably shock on her part. She hasn’t realised she’s met her Prince Charming yet.”
“Right,” Mav says.
“But it’s all good, I have a plan,” I tell them.
“Of course you do,” Aubrey says under her breath, but I still hear her.
“So what is this master plan?” Mav asks.
“Well,” I say, and flick the footrest out on the recliner. The chair leans back quicker than I anticipated and I lose my bearings for a second.
“Balance still not back yet?” Mav asks, a concerned look on his face.
“I’m fine,” I tell him for the fifty-seven-thousandth time. “The doc said it’s not uncommon for the effects of a concussion to last this long, and given this isn’t my first rodeo it’s kind of to be expected.” Expected, but still enough to get me and the wider BMX community wondering if this is it.
“You always were hard-headed.”
I give him the finger. “Anyway, my master plan is not to give her a chance to say no to me. I know I’m irresistible, I just need to make sure she knows it and that I’m around when she does.”
“Right,” Mav says again.
“To that end, I’m thinking of going to a yoga class tomoz, wanna come?” I ask.
Aubrey snorts. “Yoga? You?”
I nod. “Helps keep me flexible and get extra extension on my tricks. The judges love that shit.”
“And the fact that this Bentley could be there—”
“Is all part of my master plan,” I finish for her. “So you in?” I ask Mav.
“Sure,” he says.
“You think Josh would want to come?” I ask.
“What are you planning?” Mav asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I just think it would be good for the dude to get out, get in shape, you know, get a life that isn’t wholly connected to yours or a computer.” That’s the God’s honest truth too. I feel sorry for the dude and want to help him out. The fact that it might make me a bit more agreeable in Bentley’s eyes is icing on the cake.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Aubrey says.
“You do?” Mav asks his fiancée.
She nods. “I think it’d be good for Josh to get out a bit.”
I clap my hands. “So it’s all settled then, awesome.”
Mav gives me a look that says he knows there’s something else going on but isn’t going to push it. Yet.
The following day, Mav, Josh, and I all pile into Mav’s souped-up Subaru BRZ and head to Bert’s.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Josh says as we walk into the room where the yoga class is being held.
I pull him aside and motion for Mav to set up our mats. “What’s up, dude?” I ask.
He looks around the room. “We’re the only guys here,” he whispers.
“So?” I shrug.
“So won’t we look wimpy?”
“Nah, dude, we’re smart. Think about it, two single guys up close and personal with all these hot, flexible ladies. It’s a freaking gold mine.”
“But it’s yoga,” he says.
“It’s a good workout,” I tell him. “I do it all the time at home.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. It’s good for the body and the mind.” He looks at me sceptically. “Look, just do one class. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to come back, but,” I say before he gets carried away, “I do think you need to do something besides play video games all day.” He takes a breath and nods. “Good man. And hey, it’s not like I’m forcing you to eat a bowl of mushy peas.” I shudder. “We’re working out in a room chock-full of hot women. Life could be much, much worse, man.”
He takes a look around the room again, surveying the faces of the women in here with us. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
I slap him on the back. “Of course I am. Come on, it’s about to start.”
In the end Josh did really fucking well in the class. For a shy computer geek, the dude has moves. Me, not so much. My shoulder is tight because I haven’t been able to move it for six weeks due to my collarbone, and balancing is difficult because of my concussion. We were doing the cat pose when my balance completely left me. Again. It took me a bit to regain my bearings, so I stepped out for a sec. I’m sitting on a bench outside the classroom, my head resting against the wall with my eyes closed, when someone sits down next to me. I open an eye and tilt my head to see Bentley. Her hair is a bright rainbow today. A smile crosses my face before I even realise it.
“Told you, you wouldn’t be able to get enough of me,” I say.
She scoffs. “Hardly.”
“And what, this is the only free seat in the whole gym?” I ask. “Don’t fool yourself, darlin’; you want me, you just don’t want to admit it.”
“I came over to see if you were okay, which clearly, you are,” she says, and goes to get up. I grab her wrist and drag her back down again.
“Don’t go,” I say. I hate the weakness in my voice. I hate the fact women are always leaving me. I hate the fact that I hate all of that. Beneath my fingers I feel her relax, and I let her go. “Thank you.”
“Still struggling with the concussion, or did you get kicked out of class for spending the whole time flirting?” The corner of her mouth ticks up in a slight smile.
“Darlin’, you’re the only woman for me,” I tell her. She just rolls her eyes. “But yeah, this concussion is still throwing me for a loop.” I nod and have to grab on to the bench for balance.
“Whoa there, sailor,” she says as she steadies me.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Haven’t gotten your balance back yet, huh?”
“Nah,” I say, trying to brush off what just happened, “I downed a litre of bourbon before I came here this morning.”
She huffs and gets up again. “You don’t have to be such an arse all the time, you know,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why?” I say, anger rising. “It’s what you expect from me, isn’t it? It’s what everyone expects from me.”
“I don’t expect it from you,” she says.
I scoff. “Yeah, you do. You just don’t like being called on it. Don’t worry, it’s no biggie. I’m Jax Ryan, the cheeky one, the one no one takes seriously.” I didn’t mean to say all that stuff, it just came out. I look up to see a shocked expression on her face. It gives me a kind of perverse pleasure to know that I got to her, but I hate the fact I’m being so weak. “Sorry,” I say, “a bit of misplaced frustration there.” She sits down once more. “You won’t need a workout with all that getting up and sitting down again,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. She smiles, but I can tell she’s still thinking about my outburst. I kind of like that I was able to shock her, that maybe, just maybe I’m getting under her skin. I’m not going to lie, I want Bentley, badly. She acts all tough, but I think there’s more to her. This reaction she’s having to what I just said proves that. It gives me hope that I may just be able to break down those walls she’s hiding behind. It only seems fair, seeing as though she’s breaking down some of my own.
“You want to talk about it?” she asks.
“Talk about what?”
“Whatever it is that’s got you so tied up.”
“Why would you want to help me?” I ask. “You can’t stand me.”
She blows out a breath. “One of my friends at work says I have a knack for attracting lost souls and trying to fix them.”
“You think I’m lost?”
“I think you need someone who doesn’t know you to talk to.”
“How about we not talk and get to know each other in a much more intimate way?” I suggest. She glares at me. I’m taking that as a no. I try a different tack, anything to change the topic. “I thought you do know me. Remember yesterday when you were telling me all about my epic failure at the Extreme Games?”
She winces when I mention our first interaction.
“Okay, so I was a bit of a bitch yesterday.”
“A bit?” I ask. “The bruise on my stomach says differently.”
“You came up behind me in an empty car park while I was alone. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t go for my dick then, huh?” I ask. “Although….” Her face flushes bright red, matching the tip of her hair.
“Okay, so I was a mega bitch yesterday,” she concedes.
“Nah, you were fine, I was being a dick,” I tell her.
“So are you okay?”
“Most of the time,” I say.
“It’s been six weeks since your accident?”
“Yeah.”
“How many concussions have you had?”
“This is my fourth,” I say. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot.”
“Have you thought about—”
“About quitting?” I ask, cutting her off.
“Well, yeah.”
I shake my head. “This is who I am and I fucking love it. Plus, I don’t want to go out this way. When I do eventually decide to hang up my helmet, it’ll be because I’ve done all I think I can. I know I haven’t reached that point yet.” I don’t know why I’m telling Bentley all of this. It’s quite clear she doesn’t like me, but it feels good to get it all out. It may come back to bite me in the arse, but hey, since when is that something new?
We’re silent for a long time after that, both of us lost in our own worlds, I suppose. “Anyway,” I say, just as she says, “So I was thinking—” We both stop and laugh.
“Go on,” I tell her.
“So I was thinking,” she says as she fiddles with a loose thread on her gym shorts.
“Yes?” I prompt.
“Maybe we could train together. You know, work on getting your balance back.”
“Why?” I ask. “Why are you offering to help me?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I saw you sitting here, looking all pathetic, and it got to me.”
“Geez, darlin’, don’t spare my feelings or anything,” I say.
She ignores that and glares. “So what do you think?”
“Is there a possibility of us hooking up afterwards?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.
“Not a chance,” she says, getting up again. “But the offer still stands.”
I pretend to think it over. “And you’re certain there’s no chance of us hooking up?” She crosses her arms and glares at me. In reply, I laugh. “Fine, but just so you know, I’m not giving up on getting in those tight-arse shorts of yours.”
“You’re a pig, Jax Ryan.”
“You love it,” I tell her as she walks away. It’s probably best we leave it as friends/training partners. Women have a nasty habit of leaving me, and I don’t know if I could handle another one being added to that list.