by Alex Wolf
Me: Hilarious.
Asshole: i’m dead serious
I grind my teeth at his lack of capitalizing his first word and lack of punctuation. How is this man a CEO?
Me: Could you at least attempt to use correct grammar and punctuation?
Asshole: does this bother you
Me: Oh, did you want an answer? I wasn’t sure if that was a question.
Asshole: it was a question :) there, I used a colon
I want to gouge his eyes out for making me read this!
He’s not making you. You’re doing it all on your own.
Me: When hell freezes over, when Jesus comes back, when the Cubs win the World Series, take your pick.
Asshole: i’ll take the Cubs, seems most likely
I grin at his reply, but only because he can’t see me do it. He can actually be kind of nice and endearing sometimes, like when we were talking about his past. I shake my head. It’s just a crush, but it will pass. It will pass. I say it in my head about twenty more times, trying to drive the point home.
Me: You’re wasting your time.
Asshole: i don’t think I am
Why am I smiling so much right now, like a cheesing idiot? This man literally just groped me next to my car.
Me: I know you think persistence always pays, but in this case, you’re going up a hill that can’t be climbed.
Asshole: i’ll climb everest barehanded, I don’t give a shit
Me: I’m going to bed.
Asshole: should come over here and get some sleep, my bed is better
Holy shit. Why did something just jolt through my entire body? The thought of going to bed again with Cole Miller, just, shit. I’m not going to be able to sleep now, no matter how hard I try.
Me: Something tells me I wouldn’t get that much sleep.
Asshole: You definitely wouldn’t. That’s a fucking promise, Collins.
Son of a bitch! He waited to use punctuation on the one text he knew would drive me insane. I look down. My hand is twitching, just wanting to go between my legs, and I have to fight it with everything I have. This man is turning me into a nympho. I have to put an end to this, because he clearly knows how to push every one of my buttons.
Me: Goodnight
Asshole: tomorrow, after work
Me: Excuse me?
My phone immediately pings with three messages in rapid succession.
Asshole: date number two
Asshole: it’s happening after work
Asshole: don’t make me come get you
Me: Not happening.
Asshole: is* happening
Me: Fuck off, I’m not going to dinner with you.
Asshole: who said anything about dinner
Me: I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.
Asshole: be at my gym, team miller, tomorrow after work or I’ll come find you
Me: Why the hell would I go there?
Asshole: i’m going to teach you to actually defend yourself, because you’re too fucking stubborn to not walk to your car alone
The thought of rolling around on a mat with Cole Miller is appealing in ways I can’t even describe. Also, if my cousins found out I could tell them I’m just learning self-defense. Could it really be that bad to go? I mentally smack myself. It’s a terrible idea on so many levels, and I’m over here trying to rationalize this. How stupid can I be?
Me: I’m good, thanks though.
Asshole: You’ll be there. :)
Did he really just add that fucking smiley face on there and use punctuation again?
Me: Gonna be hanging out solo.
Asshole: we’ll see :)
Me: Bye.
I shove my phone over on the nightstand and it pings again.
Don’t fucking look.
I look.
Asshole: Night. Try not to touch yourself thinking about me.
Goddamn it!
I pull the covers up to my neck and flip over, fighting the urge. Fighting it with everything I have. I scissor my legs, trying to get comfortable and roll over on my side. The throb between my legs is damn near unbearable, like an itch I can’t scratch.
I lie there, breathing heavily, incredibly frustrated. More than I’ve ever been in my life.
“Son of a bitch.” I fly out of bed and grab my vibrator. I look up a picture of Cole Miller on Google, of which there are plenty to choose from, and prop my phone up on my nightstand so he’s staring right at me.
It doesn’t take long for me to get off. Record time, in fact. And of course, I say his name, pretend it’s him the entire time my hips raise from the bed, and I moan repeatedly.
I sit there afterward, staring at his picture on my phone, like he’s in the room with me.
“You’re such an asshole.”
I shake my head as I say it, because I already know what I’m going to do. I know exactly what’s going to happen the second I get off work tomorrow, and I know the only thing I’ll be able to think about.
Like an idiot, I’ll go to his gym. Why am I going to let him win?
Because you want him to. Because you want him, bad.
Chapter Thirteen
Cole Miller
Bill and Pedro are doing drills on the mat, and I’m in the corner hitting a bag, trying to get the blood flowing.
She’ll show up.
Won’t she?
Of course, she will. She can fight it all she wants but that same fire is there, burning a hole in her chest. I glance at the clock. She was supposed to be here five minutes ago. This woman makes me insane, and yet I can’t get enough of her.
“Waiting on someone?” Pedro grins right at me.
He and Bill must’ve wrapped up what they’re doing and they’re both standing there watching me with shit-eating grins on their faces.
I shrug, trying to play it off. “Maybe. Why?”
“No reason, just don’t see you in here as much as we used to. Too busy making the big money.” Bill jabs Pedro like he’s amused with this whole situation.
They’re both snickering. Part of me wants to tell them to piss off and part of me loves being here with them. It’s like I’m watching myself grow up all over again through Pedro, and I like what I see. I know what I’ve become and I’m proud of that, and I hope Pedro gets the same kind of life I’ve had so far. It was always my goal for him.
“Don’t you assholes have something better to do?”
Pedro walks over to me, eyeing me up and down. “You’re nervous.”
I look away. Not the smartest thing to do. I start to say something and then I just scoff. “Pfft. Whatever.”
Now they’re both staring back at each other, even more amused. Fuck, why am I so flustered right now?
I know exactly why. It’s the temptress from hell, my best friend’s little cousin with light blue eyes and a fireball inside her that’s damn near nuclear. Part of me is worried she’s not going to show, too. I’m nervous. That’s what this is, and I never get nervous, not before fights, not before board meetings. Never.
“You’re really meeting someone here?”
Pedro laughs his ass off. “Only Miller would bring a date to the gym.”
I point a finger at them, halfway chuckling. “Can the two of you fuck off now?”
They both sit there, cheeks puffed out like they’re about to explode with laughter. I guess it’s only fair. I would give them both this exact same amount of shit if the roles were reversed, so I have this coming.
Bill starts to say something and then freezes.
All I hear is a throat clear behind me, and I would know that sound anywhere. My heartrate spikes to eleven, the same way it always does anytime she’s in the remote vicinity. It’s like I can feel her presence in the room.
Turn around, pussy. The woman of your dreams is waiting on you.
I plaster a smirk on my face, because there’s no way in hell I’ll let her know I’m anxious, even though my palms are already clamming up.
I’m no
t ready at all for what I see.
I turn around slowly, and holy fuck, it’s like she gets more gorgeous every time I see her.
She’s standing there, hip cocked out, like she’s been waiting for an hour. Those icy blue eyes of hers drill into my chest, like lasers, burning a hole right through me. Her jaw is set, like she argued with herself about coming here for an hour, but finally got dressed and showed up.
She’s in the same workout gear she wore at Curve when I ran into her. Black sports bra, tight black stretch pants. Her hair is up in a ponytail which makes her high cheek bones even more pronounced. There’s a gym bag draped over her shoulder.
I want to gasp at how beautiful she is, but I can’t. Like an idiot, I just stare at her, knowing she should be off-limits and not giving a single fuck about any relationships I might destroy, just for a chance to kiss her one more time.
“Well, well, welcome to Team Miller.” Bill starts toward her, turning on his old-man charm like I’ve never seen before. “How can we help you here?”
This old bastard. Part of me thanks him for it, because Harlow cracks a light smile when he does it, helping relieve some of the tension in the air.
He makes his way up to her. “I’m Bill, the proprietor of this fine establishment.”
Who the hell is he right now? She’ll see right through this shit. She sees right through everything.
“Harlow Collins.” She holds out a hand.
“Well, Ms. Collins, what can we do for you?”
I glance over and Pedro’s about to die laughing. He walks up to me and smacks me on the back. “Better get in there, chief. Bill’s gonna steal your woman.”
I don’t know why, but I grit my teeth and say, “She’s not my woman,” but fuck if I don’t want her to be. Bad.
“Sure, she’s not,” Pedro mumbles to himself and walks off toward the locker rooms.
I look back and Bill is already making her laugh. I mean, she’s laughing hard, and I didn’t even know she was capable.
“Seriously, only you would bring a fucking date to the gym.” Pedro cracks up again as he disappears through the door to the locker rooms.
Do something, dipshit.
I walk over there and grab Bill on the shoulder, just as he’s giving her a sales pitch on all the services he could offer. “She already has an instructor.”
“I do?” Harlow’s eyes dart up to mine and her icy demeanor comes back to the surface.
“Best in the world.” I give her the cold stare right back, then turn to Bill. “Thanks for your time, old man. I’ll take it from here.”
He holds up both hands. “Ohh, my mistake, sir.” He snickers. “It was nice to meet you, Harlow. You let me know if this one is not a perfect gentleman.”
Harlow smiles again and turns to him, eyes wide. “Oh, I will berate him on a comment card if he doesn’t behave.”
Bill winks. “Don’t even hesitate. He might act tough, but I remember when he was a boy—”
“Okay, I think that’s about enough.” I grab him by the shoulders and turn him toward the locker rooms. “Go make sure Pedro gets some ice, he always tries to get out of the tub early.”
“Okay, boss.” Bill walks off and disappears through the doors.
We’re alone.
I turn around and face Harlow; she’s half smiling but still looks like she wants to kick me right in the nuts.
Good, I love her like this.
She holds her hands out to her sides. “What now? You got me here.”
I smirk right at her. “Knew you’d come.”
She huffs out a sigh and turns like she’s going to walk away.
“Do you give up in fights as easily as you do in conversations?”
She whips back around like she was just waiting for me to say something. “Why am I even here?”
I point a finger at my chest. “Are you asking me or yourself?”
She sighs. “Both, really.”
I take a step toward her. “Well, I can only speak for myself, and I think we both know the answer to that one.”
She sits there, grinding her jaw, shaking her head at me. “You are so fucking cocky.”
“I call it confidence.”
“I call it being a douchebag.”
I take another step toward her. “I think you like it.” I lean down next to her ear. “I think you’re used to walking all over people, and you can’t do that shit with me, and it’s driving you fucking mad.” My body is buzzing right now, this close to her, her petite yet rock-hard body just inches from mine. I don’t know how I’m going to get her on the mat and show her anything without my dick getting hard. It’ll take a small miracle.
“You gonna show me some moves or not?” She does air quotes when she says “moves.” And rolls her eyes.
“I already showed you some moves after the wedding. I’m going to teach you something practical tonight, since you’re hell-bent on being reckless with your personal safety.”
“You don’t know shit about what I do when you’re not around.” She drops her bag and walks off toward the makeshift octagon where Pedro trains. “You coming or what? I don’t have all fucking night.”
The one thing I’ve noticed about Harlow is she’s definitely tough as shit already. I can just tell. She carries that confidence, or swagger about her, which tells me she’s probably never lost a fight in her life, if she’s ever even been in one. She’s fearless.
Still, that’s no match for someone like me, or even a man twice her size who halfway knows what he’s doing. She needs to be more careful and it drives me up the fucking wall.
The other thing I notice about her, is when she speaks it sounds like she wants nothing to do with me, like she knows she shouldn’t have anything to do with me. But she’s here right now. All her actions are the exact opposite of what she says.
Yeah, she wants me as bad as I want her. Always watch what someone does, not what they say.
I follow her over there and we both hop up into the ring.
Once we’re in the middle, we square up with each other.
She looks past me and grins.
I look over and Pedro and Bill are watching from the door. I shoot them a death glare from hell and they both scatter back into the locker room. Fuckers.
When I look back, Harlow is still grinning in that direction. I fly off my front foot and wrap her up in a headlock. I don’t choke her, but I do it hard enough to make a point. It definitely catches her off guard.
She squirms, trying to get out, but there’s just no way it’s going to happen. I’m twice her size and have more experience.
I make sure to laugh, just to piss her off even more, and get right next to her face. “See this. You don’t expect someone to come out of the shadows in a dark alley. The headlock is the main thing most people in a street fight will resort to.” I grip her a little tighter, then move my hand back and forth like I’m throwing fake punches at her head. “And when you struggle and fight, you’re wasting energy. He’s wearing you down until you’re exhausted, and then he can do whatever he wants to you. He’ll pound on your face until he has you dazed, then steal your purse, maybe something even worse.”
To my surprise, she goes completely still, doesn’t fight against me. Most people continue to squirm and thrash and try to get away. Harlow remains calm and collected.
Before I expect it, she grips my opposite arm with both hands and lowers her center of gravity.
What the fuck?
As soon as I start to counter, she basically sits down on her ass and rolls me right over the top of her, a classic Jiu Jitsu self-defense technique. We collide with the mat, and she flips over on top of me and pins me beneath her.
Fucking hell. She’s breathing hard, her flushed face inches from mine, tits pressed against my chest.
She pins my arms down, and all I can do is stare into her eyes.
It’s so fucking hot. Maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s just—perfect.
I
know it’s coming, and it does, immediately. That smug, satisfied grin of hers.
I want to say a million things, but I can’t because she’s so damn beautiful. It looks like she has the exact same problem, like her brain is searching for words, but they won’t come out. The chemistry between us is undeniable.
I should flip her around and subdue her, just to make a point, but honestly, I don’t want to. I like her on top of me like this. I like it when she feels like she’s in control, like she just won. I like it when she’s—happy.
She stares at me for a long second, and all the hate and irritation leaves her eyes. It’s like we have an entire conversation without words.
Then, before either of us say anything, our mouths crash into each other, and fuck if it isn’t the most intense kiss of my life. Her hips grind up against me, and our tongues intertwine. I immediately reach up and grip her ponytail, forcing her mouth down even harder on me.
My cock’s so hard I wonder if I could fuck her through the Lycra pants she’s wearing. Our tongues dance and roll and it’s like this unbelievable happiness takes over my entire body. Like I could float away up to the ceiling. Everything disappears, and I’m only focused on one thing—her. There are no boardrooms, fights, gyms. I don’t care if Pedro and Bill see us, or the whole damn world for that matter. It’s just me and her, in this moment.
Finally, our mouths part, and we just stare at each other. We both know this is a terrible idea, us being together. It’s like I can read her thoughts right now, know everything about her, every reservation. It’s like we’re both on the same exact frequency, in tune to each other at a cellular level.
I hear a door squeak and my eyes roll over to spot four little beady eyes watching us from the locker room.
What are they, like fucking seven?
I try to wave them away where Harlow can’t see. The classic hand motion that says get the fuck out of here.
They still sit there, like a couple teenage boys spying over the fence at the hot neighbor sunbathing by the pool. I glance up.
Harlow sees them, and I do not like the look on her face one bit.
She rolls off me, and without thinking, I pop up and take off right toward them. The door slams shut, and I run over there and rip it open.
