Fighting Jacob

by Shandi Boyes

  With my shoulders hanging lower than they were seconds ago, my eyes drift to the locker room. I can feel Hank’s gaze burning a hole in the side of my head, but nothing can take away from the movie rolling through my head. Lola and I had so much fun in that shower stall. I taught her how to protect herself mere minutes before she taught me she already knew how. That’s why her shell is so hard. She protects herself by keeping everyone away—everyone except me. Not a single fight I've won the past two years was more victorious than breaking through Lola's shell. It was my hardest-fought battle, and I'm not even halfway through it yet.

  Spotting my forlorn look, Hank nudges me toward the locker room. “Go talk to her, Jake.”

  “I can’t.”

  If I endure the hurt look in her eyes one more time, I might snap like I did three days ago when I knocked out the paparazzi's teeth. I don't know who the fuck that man was, but I'm reasonably sure he wasn't me. I don't react in violence. I'm the easy-going, never let anything bother me guy. I just... snapped.

  Hank moves to stand in front of me with the same determined look he had every time I argued I wasn’t ready for my first fight. His gloves are on and ready to pummel some sense into me. “Why not?”

  I scratch my brow while sighing. “It’s complicated—”

  “Complicated, my ass. You two are just too stubborn for your own good!” He gets right up in my face like a drill sergeant screaming orders at a private. “Go and talk to her, or I'll ride your ass so hard, you won't sit for a week.”

  He pushes me until I’m standing in front of the women’s locker room entrance. I’m double his weight, so I could easily push him off if I wanted to, but maybe he’s right? Perhaps we should talk. Silence hasn’t gotten me anywhere fast, so perhaps it’s time to try something new.

  The nerves jittering in my stomach are audible in my voice when I ask Lola, “Is it safe to come in?”

  Hank chuckles at my corniness. He can laugh. He hasn’t experienced the wrath of an angry Lola.

  My zipper bites my cock when Lola replies, “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before, Jacob.”

  My eyes bug out of my head when I enter. Lola is standing in front of a row of mirrors. She has a tiny towel wrapped around her curvy body. That’s it—just a towel. A. Tiny. Towel.

  Pretending I’m not seconds from coming like a virgin dipping his hand into a cookie jar for the first time, I pace closer to her. I try to keep my eyes on her face. I horrifically fail. I’ve spent hours upon hours studying every delicious inch of her body, yet I’ve still got so much left to discover. Her body is pure dynamite. There’s no better word to describe it. Tight, compact, and so explosive, it’ll impact more than your heart when she explodes.

  Noticing my not-so-inconspicuous gawk, Lola stops brushing her hair to gaze at me in the mirror. “How long has it been?” She shakes like someone just walked over her grave. “Actually, I don’t want to know.”

  Her uneasy expression reminds me why I’m here. “Did you get my original conviction overturned?”

  She cranks her back to peer at me, her mouth as open as her eyes. “It got overturned?” When I nod, she spins, spans the distance between us, then leaps into my arms. “Holy shit, I didn’t think it would get overturned!”

  Her beautiful scent is enough to have my cock raring to life, much less the heat of her body plastered to mine. Relishing having her in my arms again, I hold her close before inhaling her scent. She smells fresh and pure, a smell a woman as seductive as her shouldn’t be able to pull off.

  When she wiggles, requesting to be set down, I comply—reluctantly. Her request for space comes to light when her eyes drop to the crotch of my pants. “You need to watch where you point that thing. I don’t recall signing up for pole vaulting classes.”

  I’m hard enough to drill the soap scum off the tiles surrounding us without a jackhammer. “Sorry.” I adjust my cock so it's not pitching a tent. Now it’s just peeking out the top of pants like a creeper about to get freaky in the bushes outside. “I’ll wait for you outside. I can’t control this…” I nudge my head down. “…with you looking like that.”

  Lola proves why she’s deserving of her nickname when she giggles.

  Fuck, I’ve missed her laugh, but nowhere near as much as I’ve missed her.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Lola

  When Jacob bolts out of the locker room, uneasy excitement trickles into my veins. My ego is stoked I can still spark a reaction out of him, but I'm also apprehensive. Not even the best battery operated boyfriend can compete with the real thing, and when you've felt the best of the best rubbing against your stomach, it will take more than a multi-combination vibrator to forget it.

  Fake it until you make it, Lola, I chant to myself.

  After getting dressed and prepping my face for no particular reason, I exit the locker room. Although Jacob said he’d wait for me outside, I’m still shocked to see him leaning against the interior wall of the gym. I’m not a person who gets ready in two minutes, so I figured he’d have better ways to occupy his time than waiting around for me.

  “Hey?” Don’t ask why my greeting sounded like a question. I don’t know why I’m a ditz with half a brain when I’m with Jacob, so how could I possibly give you an explanation for the insanity?

  “Hey.” Jacob drags his eyes down my body before returning them to my face. “Clothes aren’t helping.”

  When he adjusts his crotch, the tension bristling between us floats away. He’s not a metaphor. He’s Jacob, the man who knows me better than anyone.

  "Where's Hank?" His office light is off, and he's nowhere in sight.

  “He had to head home. He asked if we could lock up for him once we’re done.” Missing the alarmed expression on my face, Jacob nudges his head to the front door. “Do you have time to talk?”

  “Umm...” I drop my eyes to my watch. “Yeah. I’m not due at work for another two hours.”

  While following Jacob outside, I scan the premises. Hank has to be here because he has nowhere else to go. I find him hiding in the alleyway of the gym, watching Jacob and me like a hawk. When he raises his index finger to his lips, requesting I keep quiet, I nod. Relief crosses his features. I don't know why. I only agreed to keep his secret because Jacob has enough on his plate right now. Once the groove between his brows smooths, I won’t hesitate to tell him precisely what I think about Hank's living conditions.

  After slipping the key under the mat, Jacob curls his hand around mine before guiding me to his car. His chivalry isn't unusual, but holding his hand in public is foreign. Excluding Bronte's Peak, we've never done PDA. Expensive misdemeanor fines would make even the most affectionate couple cautious.

  “Don’t,” Jacob murmurs under his breath when he opens my door for me.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything.” I was, but I’m not now.

  Jacob’s cheeky grin remains on his face for the ten minutes of our trip, then it bounces to mine when he pulls into the parking lot at the back of Mavericks. I haven’t been to Mavs in years, but it will always feel like home to me.

  Although Jacob doesn't open my door for me, he continues to hold my hand as we make our way to the bar. It's the same as it’s always been, just a couple of years older. With Maggie nowhere in sight, Jacob places an order for two beers from a beautiful blonde behind the counter. For how often she bats her eyelashes at him, anyone would swear he ordered her for dessert. Her flirting pisses me off. He's holding my hand, for fuck's sake, yet she still goes there. Someone call up the old biddies. There’s a new harlot in town.

  The envy turning me green slides away when Jacob doesn’t flirt back with her. He’s too busy peering at me beneath lowered lashes to pay her any attention, and I’m not the only one noticing. When the hostess slams down our beers hard enough to froth the tops, I give her a snarky wink.

  Take that, bitch. Not even your fake titties could persuade him to take a second look.

  I sip on my beer, smiling like a
smug bitch as Jacob guides us to a booth at the back of the bar. I’m still not a fan of beer, but if I don’t drink something, nothing will douse the victorious fire raring in my gut.

  After slipping into the seat across from me, Jacob’s eyes float across his old stomping ground. “Being back here nearly makes me forget everything going on.”

  Because his comment is more rhetorical, I don’t say anything. I put the silence to good use by roaming my eyes over his face. Dark rings circle his eyes, and the scruff on his chin is the thickest I’ve ever seen it, but he’s still gorgeous. I just wish I could see what’s going on in that head of his. He dropped everything to support Noah like he has many times in his short almost twenty-four years. That’s a massive burden to be placed on anyone's shoulders, even if they're as strong as Jacob's.

  I slant my head to the side when an accented voice says, “There’s the final piece of the puzzle I’ve been seeking the past two months.”

  Flynn is standing next to our table. He has a beer in his hand and a broad grin etched on his handsome face, although I don't see it lasting with how many daggers Jacob is shooting his way. He's glaring at him. I don't mean a friendly, hey mate, how’s it going? glare. He’s staring like he’s seconds from digging his intestines out via his back entrance.

  Either oblivious to Jacob's anger or blindly brave, Flynn locks his eyes with me. “It was Jacob, wasn’t it? The one you ran off for?” His tone is neither angry or upset. He’s more curious than anything.

  One of Jacob’s daggers misses its mark when I timidly nod. I’m not agreeing with Flynn to save his life. I just hate lying.

  “I knew it.” The neck of Flynn’s beer bottle can’t hide his mammoth grin. “Then I guess I should leave you love birds to talk.” His eye drift to Jacob. “Nice seeing you again, mate.”

  When Jacob jerks up his chin, Flynn moseys to his bandmates sitting at the table Rise Up once commanded. Although Jacob’s anger isn’t as volatile as when Flynn interrupted us, his angry scowl remains. His gaze is enough to set my skin on fire, and not in a bad way. I’m heating up everywhere, which equally frustrates and excites me.

  “I didn’t sleep with Flynn.” Huffing, I fold my arms under my chest. “But you have no right to question me, Jacob. Not after what you had splashed all over the internet.”

  His scowl is replaced with confusion. “You didn’t sleep with Flynn?”

  Typical male, only hearing what he wants to hear.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  My heart skips a beat when a massive grin raises his cheeks high. I haven’t seen him smile like this in months, and as much as it pains me to admit, I’ve missed it so much.

  When my tongue darts out to replenish my lips, the sexual tension brewing between us turns blistering. It’s as hot and heavy as the pulse in my pussy from his smile.

  “Don’t even think about it.” I give him a stern finger point. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do before you’ll ever get into my panties again.”

  Groaning, he adjusts his crotch. “Please don’t say panties again. I’m wound up so fucking tight right now, I might explode.” He sounds like he's in pain. “I found out weeks ago that blue balls do exist. I thought it was just a manufactured line guys use to get into a girl’s cookie jar, but it isn’t. It’s a real medical issue.”

  When I giggle, he glares at me. "I'm deadly serious.”

  I laugh even louder. It’s not a ladylike laugh. I chuckle so hard, tears stream down my face, and I’m hit with an urgent need to pee. “God save the lady who has to handle that eruption. I hope she’s confident—”

  “Confident enough to know I’d never want anyone but her.”

  My spine snaps straight as my eyes rocket to Jacob. He’s staring straight at me, ensuring that even if I missed the innuendo in his tone, I can’t miss the honesty in his eyes.

  The hope in his eyes fades away when I slump low in my chair. There’s nothing more I'd like to do than climb onto his lap and take out my sexual frustration on him, but I’m still hurt about the pictures I saw months ago. Why can he question me about Flynn, but not expect to face his own interrogation when he gets “friendly” with a random blonde at a bachelor party? That’s not fair. We never agreed to be exclusive, but what’s good for one is good for the other.

  Trying to push our conversation back onto mutual ground, I ask, “What happened in court today?”

  I’m dying to discover what happened with Jacob and the blonde in the photos, but now is not the time to ask him. He’s juggling too many things at the moment. If I add another prickly subject matter, who’s to say he won’t drop everything? I want to pretend I don’t know the man sitting across from me, but I do. I know him well enough to say he’s only holding on by a thread. That’s why I refuse to cut it. I don’t mind being seen as his predator, but I never want to be seen as his destroyer.

  “I got six months’ probation and community service. My community service will be served at Hopeton House. It’s a youth home for kids who have nowhere else to go.” He glances past my shoulder, staring at nothing in particular. “The only negative is they scheduled me to be at the house twenty-four hours a day, Monday through Friday, starting this week, which means I have to break my promise to Noah.”

  “I’m sure he’ll understand.” He’s been there for Noah more than anyone ever expected, so I’m confident in my declaration. “If not, I’ll be sure to kick his ass when he wakes.”

  Jacob laughs, taking my comment as I had intended: playfully.

  After taking a swig of his beer, he returns his eyes to mine. I’m glad they’re not as pained as they were when we arrived. “How did you get the conviction overturned?”

  “Who said it was me?”

  He cocks his brow, calling out my deceit without words.

  I shrug like it wasn’t a big deal. “I threatened to press charges against Callum if he didn’t change his statement. Although he wasn’t pleased I showed up uninvited, he did as requested.”

  Jacob lets out a low growl. “Please tell me you didn’t go to his house alone?”

  “I didn’t...” He releases a sharp breath that’s quickly redrawn when I add on, “I took Hank with me.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Jacob

  Shock is the first thing that hits me from Lola’s confession, closely followed by relief. Hank is harmless... until you piss him off. I found out just how tough he is in the days following my arrest. He didn't hold back in the ring, meaning I was sporting more than just bruised knuckles. Because I understood his anger, I took it in stride. My arrests didn't just flush my dreams down the toilet; they killed Hank’s as well. I plan to make it up to him. I just haven’t worked out how yet.

  I’m drawn from my thoughts when Lola says, “I’m sorry, Jacob, but I have to go. I’m due at work in an hour, and I’ve still got to get back to Erkinsvale.”

  Nodding, I slip out of my seat. “I should head out too. Em is most likely panicked out of her mind that I’ve been gone so long.”

  If it were any other person but Lola standing across from me, the possessiveness in my tone would have caused conflict. Mercifully, Lola is as confident as she is beautiful. She knows I’m not supporting Emily because I want to get into her panties. It’s because not everyone is as strong as her.

  We make our trip back to Hank’s Gym in silence. It isn’t awkward, more that Lola needs a few minutes to figure out what she wants to say. I understand the cause of her long deliberation when my car pulling in beside her Jeep coincides with her lips landing on my mouth. It’s the briefest peck, but the accompanying words are enough to coerce the most suicidal man off the ledge. “I miss you, Jacob.”

  I lose the chance to tell her I miss her too when she bolts out of my car, jumps into her Jeep, then races out of the parking lot like a woman on a mission. I hate the missed opportunity, but nothing can wipe the smile off my face. Today has been a good day. I escaped a jail sentence, found out Lola didn’t sleep with Flynn, and she admitted s
he misses me. Some may say the last one isn’t a victory, but they obviously don’t know Lola. Just her admitting she misses me is huge—nearly as big as those other three little words I’d give my left nut to hear come out of her mouth.

  When I strut back into Noah’s hospital room—yeah, I’m strutting like a peacock—I notice Emily is on a call. Not wanting to interrupt her, I prop my shoulder on the doorframe to wait. It’s only when she asks her caller if Lola has seen me do I announce my arrival with a cough. Her eyes snap to mine so fast, I’m certain she’s now dizzy.

  She tells her caller she has to go before racing across the room to throw herself into my arms. “You’re back!” The vanilla cloud that engulfs me pops a reckless, yet hopeful idea into my head.

  After tugging Emily closer to my body, I move to stand next to Noah’s bed. “Come on, Noah, don’t act like you don’t want to get out of that bed and kick my ass.” If anything will get a rise out of Noah, it will be me using Emily as bait. “I have your girl in my arms, and you’re not going to do anything about it?”

  Not recognizing my ploy to stimulate a response from Noah, Emily slaps me across the chest. “Don’t be an ass, Jacob.”

  With my mind still hazy from my unexpected afternoon, a chuckle rumbles in my chest. One, Emily can’t scowl no matter how hard she tries, and two, she hits like a girl. She and Lola couldn’t be more opposite if they tried. Lola would put me on my ass for laughing at her, but Emily’s slap was like a fly colliding with my chest.

  My laughter is nipped in the bud when I realize my ploy worked. Noah's fist is clenched. It isn't as tight as the one he shook at me when I let gaping holes in the defensive line back in our football days, but it's still a fist all the same.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself.” After setting Emily on her feet, I curl my hand around his fist. It firms even more. "Come on, wake up and kick my ass." Then I won’t need to break my promise. “You know I wasn’t just hugging her. My crotch also got friendly with her thigh. What can I say? I'm a horny dog, and her leg was mighty enticing.”