He searches my eyes and I keep my composure.
“Fair enough. Want me to start a fire?” he asks, his voice rough.
God, do I ever. I swear his green eyes darken but then I blink, and it's gone.
“S-sure,” I stutter.
I feel my cheeks blush, thinking of Miguel and I really heating things up. A buzz in my veins circulates throughout my body and this time I welcome it; lust, want, desire.
Shit, shit, shit.
Miguel
I close my eyes with my back to Alessandra getting myself under control. I take a long sip from my wine and once the fire is started, I turn around and take my place next to her but the other side of the couch.
“Sorry if I embarrassed you. I kinda have a short fuse.”
“Kinda?” she laughs. “I'd say just a little bit,” she smiles making a motion with her thumb and pointer finger.
I grab her hand and she giggles, which makes me laugh too. I pull on her hand and before I know what I'm doing she's in my lap, my hand on her chin and I'm tilting her face to look at me.
Her gaze drops to my lips and I lick them, watching her baby blue eyes darken to almost navy.
“Do you even realize how captivatin’ you are, Alessandra? You're doin’ something to me...”
“I...”
I put my thumb against her bottom lip, pulling it down and watch her eyes close, her breathing pick up. The hot air from her rapid breaths touches my thumb and I groan, knowing full well I can't do a fucking thing about this.
“You should go to bed,” I rasp taking my hand off of her.
“Wh-what?” she stutters opening her eyes.
“Or I will. We can't do this,” I say motioning between the two of us.
She furrows her brows and nods as she gets off my lap and to her feet.
“Right, well thank you for dinner. Goodnight, Miguel.”
She looks at me one last time then stomps towards her bedroom and shuts the door with force. I flinch at the sound, cursing to myself.
These past few weeks have made me so comfortable with her and Peter. It's made me want things I have no business wanting, like Alessandra Thompson in my bed.
She's different, I have to treat her differently. I have to be a different man for her, and I don't know how to do that.
How badly I just wanted to take her right here, my cock straining in my shorts. How am I going to survive her living here and not take what I want, what she clearly wants too?
Simple answer, I'm not.
Chapter 6
Alessandra
The weekend comes fairly quick and my nerves spike. I haven't had a get together with friends in years. I wouldn't even really consider these people friends since we've never met before, but I'm hoping that it'll maybe turn into that. It would be great to have friends with a kid around Peters age. Normal Alessandra could enjoy this, could get excited for this.
“You decent?” asks Miguel from the other side of the door.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. My off the shoulder plain black t-shirt, skinny jeans and loose wavy hair is definitely fitting for a normal night in with friends.
“Yes!” I call through the door.
It's been weird between Miguel and I the past few days, avoiding the subject of our almost kiss, the big elephant in the room.
“Ollie texted, they'll be here in 10. Just wanted to make sure you were dressed and...”
His voice trails off as he comes into the room, staring at me.
“What? Is this not okay?” I ask confused.
“It's fine,” he says his voice gruff.
He turns and leaves the room and I huff out a breath. God, that man!
There's a knock on the outside door as I stride into the hall ready to give Miguel a piece of my mind. Peter runs over, helping him welcome the guests and I smile walking over.
“Ollie, Britt, and Liam, this is Alessandra and Peter,” Miguel introduces.
“Nice to meet you,” I say smiling.
“Nice to meet you! I'm so happy for a chick friend. I don't give a shit about brackets and touch runs or-”
“Touchdowns and home runs, babe. Pretty sure my bracket win got you those fancy shoes you like,” Oliver says laughing.
“Don't act like I don't make my own money, Oliver Wells,” she says slapping his chest.
I laugh at their banter and Liam walks forward, putting a hand out for Peter to slap. They give each other a high five, laugh and then run down the hall together; instant best friends. Ah, to be a kid.
“Beers?” Miguel asks as we all walk into the kitchen.
“You know it. So, how's my man treatin’ you here, Alessandra? Puttin’ the seat down? Sprayin’ that fancy stuff after he takes a shit? Cleanin’ up his laundry?”
“Ollie!” Britt admonishes.
“He's been great,” I say laughing. “For the most part.”
I arch a brow and Miguel clears his throat, popping the caps off the beers as I reach for my water bottle.
“Ah shit, you fucked her man? Come on! Don't you know how to ravish a woman!”
“No...we didn't-”
“Oliver! Stop talkin’ like you're Mr. Prince Charmin’,” Britt says interrupting my denial. “You took me for the first time in the backseat of your car at the Piggly Wiggly after your shift.”
We all laugh as Oliver throws his hands up, then takes a swig of his beer.
“For real, what's the deal?” Oliver asks pointing between me and Miguel.
“We're just friends,” Miguel says quickly.
“Yeah,” I agree taking a long sip from my water. “Just friends.”
Oliver and Britt exchange a “yeah right” look but luckily, they drop the subject.
The rest of the night is spent laughing and drinking and I feel more at ease with Oliver and Britt than I have in a long, long time. I feel my age again, just a normal mom on a weekend getting together with friends. I would have never been able to do this three years ago, and now here I am. The pride I feel for myself overwhelms me and I smile. One day at a time, Ali, one day at a time.
-------
I glance at my phone again and let out a frustrated breath. 5 AM. There's no way I'm going back to sleep. It's been like this for two weeks now. Since that almost kiss and couple night with Oliver and Britt. All my dreams are of Miguel, doing things to me I only wish he had the balls to do in real life.
We've skirted around each other, kept conversation brief and haven't had a night at the fireplace since. He watches Peter for me when I go to work, he eats dinner with us and then goes to his room or leaves the apartment and gets in at God knows what time. It pisses me off and it shouldn't, it makes me jealous and again I have no right to be.
Is he finding someone else to take his tension out with? Why not me, dammit, and why do I even care? Staying away from men and all the problems they bring was the plan. My plan didn't account for Miguel Jameson though.
I get out of bed and go to my closet, changing into a sports bra and leggings and walk quietly down the hall to the door for the gym. It's about time I do something with my tension and sleeping with a complete stranger isn't gonna be it. This is a new life, a new Alessandra. The next time I let a man inside my body, it'll be a man worthy of it, a man I actually want there.
I get to the bottom of the stairs and turn on the lights, walking past the heavy bags to a pair of hand wraps on the side. Normani bought them for me, hoping she would be able to coax me into learning to fight.
I wrap my hands like she taught me to do and walk over to a bag in the corner.
Hitting it with my left hand, I immediately feel my frustrations seep out of my pores. I hit it again with my right this time, throwing my body into the punch. Shit, that feels good, that feels really good.
I see Frankie's face on the next punch, then Marco's. The faces of all the disgusting men I had to succumb to in order to be free of Marco and the debt I owed to him. I punch harder and harder, my breathing so rapid I'm ha
ving a hard time catching my breath, but it doesn't stop me. I keep punching, left then right, left then right, grunting, vocally letting out my resentment for my life and the mess I've made of it.
The familiar feeling of needing bliss overwhelms me and I drop to the mat on my hands and knees, gasping for air, my head taking me back to a time when I used poison to escape.
“No,” I gasp. “No, no, no.”
“Hey,” says a voice from behind me.
I turn and clutch my chest seeing Miguel walking over to me with a concerned look on his face.
“Are you okay?”
“I-I'm fine,” I say getting to my feet. “Just...needed to let some stuff out.”
He smiles, a small smile and nods.
“I know what you mean, believe me.”
“Oh, do you? Seems to me you've been probably letting out a lot of tension quite frequently the past two weeks,” I snap taking the wraps off my hands.
“Leave them on, let me teach you,” he says putting a hand on top of mine.
I eye him curiously and relent, leaving the wraps on and turn towards the bag.
“Keep your hips sideways,” he says putting his hands on my hips, turning them.
Bad idea, Alessandra. Really bad idea.
He puts his hands on my shoulders and tells me to extend my front fist.
“This is your jab, it's quick and then comes back to protect your face.”
I nod and throw a jab, connecting with the rubber of the bag.
“Good, faster. Punch and bring it back.”
I do it again, a little faster this time and then Miguel's hands are back on my hips.
“Now try a cross. You're gonna jab and then turn these hips forward, put your weight into it to follow up with the cross, okay?”
“Yeah.”
I jab and then turn my hips, throwing my body into a punch with the other hand and turn back, Miguel's fingers making an imprint on my skin. He travels higher, above my leggings and his fingers touch the skin by my ribs, making me shiver.
“Good,” he encourages. “Quick again. Jab, cross. Jab, cross.”
I repeat the punches a few more times and then his hand comes down to my forearms, his chest and hips flush against my back and ass.
“Keep these hands here,” he whispers holding my hands up in front of my body. His forearm rests on my chest and my breathing picks up. “And for the record, I haven't been relievin’ tension the way you suggested I have. I haven't really wanted to be with one woman when all I would be thinkin’ about is a different one.”
My mouth drops open at his confession as sweat drips down my forehead, into my eye and I wipe it away.
“Shit, Alessandra, don't cry. I just wanted you to know.”
“I'm not crying,” I snap. “I have sweat in my eyes, don't flatter yourself. Do what you want, you don't have to answer to me.”
“But I want you to know,” he says grabbing my bicep as I try to brush past him.
I glance down at his hand and he takes it off as if it burned him.
“I'm sorry,” he says quickly.
“Stop apologizing, god dammit! No, hold that! If you want to apologize, apologize for being an indecisive jerk. You can't almost kiss me, then ignore me for two weeks and come down here and touch me and say things like that!”
“I'm...I told you I can't do this with you, Alessandra,” he groans.
“Then don't! Stop looking at me like you want to lick every inch of my body! Stop trying to seduce me with that sexy voice and accent! Stop picturing me on my knees because I know you do!”
Jesus, since when did I ever talk like that? I look down and see the large bulge and smirk. Hmmm.
“I'm a man, Alessandra. You can't say those things and expect me to stay soft. Especially when they're true,” he whispers walking closer to me.
“What is holding you back then? Tell me,” I respond putting my hand on his chest to stop his movement towards me.
“You. I can't do this with you. Just trust me, Alessandra.”
“Me?” I ask with a sarcastic laugh. “I see. I'm being punished for a past I really had no control over, huh? No, I did, let me rephrase that. I screwed up and I get it, but I should be able to move on from it, dammit! I'm trying to move on from it!”
“I…”
He has no words. None.
“I came here with the intention of starting a new life. Being independent for myself and Peter, not getting involved with anyone because it's nothing but trouble. Then you...you're acting all perfect and everything is jumbled in my head. So, thank you for bringing me back to reality and reminding me, that yes, you are just a man.”
I brush past him and stomp up the stairs to the bathroom. Locking the door, I strip, saving the tears for the shower, where they blend with the water. Where I can pretend I'm not crying, my heart is not breaking at never escaping my past, the mistakes I made. Never being that girl again, the girl before the destruction, the girl who a man could love. The girl who could let a man love her, who could love herself.
I let them flow until I have no more and shampoo my hair, wash my body and get out, drying myself off and picking myself up. I look at myself in the mirror and grit my teeth.
You are not your past, you are not your mistakes. You are worthy of change.
Chapter 7
Alessandra
I text Miguel that I'm working later than usual and ask if he could get Peter into bed for me. I was just going to heat up leftovers from last night because I've been exhausted.
Miguel: No problem.
I toss my phone down harder on my desk, annoyed at Miguel's short text. The past month has been draining. Pretending everything is normal between Miguel and I, and Thanksgiving approaching has got me all wound up. Truthfully, what I have going on in the office can wait until tomorrow, but I just need some more time before I head home and face him tonight.
Home.
How quickly Peter and I have gotten used to Miguel's place. I know it can't be forever, and lately I've realized I need to start looking for my own place. I'm close to being able to afford a cute two-bedroom house to rent, or just an apartment for now.
I gave Nico back the money I borrowed from him, now I'm just working on the money that man from the club gave me. If I'm starting a new life, I need to make sure everything from my past is dealt with. I would feel terrible knowing that I used another person’s suffering to relieve my own. I told Lacey I plan on giving it to the Second Chances Orphanage and I'm going to follow through with that.
A knock from the door of my office breaks my thoughts.
I graduated officially a few weeks ago so Lacey, Charlotte and Savannah surprised me with an official full-time job and my own office. Even if my love life is a mess, at least my work life has been a dream come true.
“What are you still doin’ here? You're not workin’ on that campaign I gave you after lunch, are you? That ain't a top priority, Ali,” says Charlotte from my doorway.
“I uh...it's okay. I don't mind going through it now."
She smiles and walks into my office sitting at the chair opposite my desk.
“Ya know, back when Gabriel and I were tryin’ to sort through our stuff, I threw myself into this job when Savannah gave it to me. There were times I slept in my office, just so I didn't have to go home. The twins were out of the house, and the silence just made me think of him. Savannah, too with Jax. Buryin’ things that are botherin’ us with work ain't gonna fix it. It’s still gonna be there when you leave here.”
I nod and let out a breath.
“I just...this job is amazing and I'm so happy you ladies gave me a chance. It's a dream working here, I've learned so much already.”
“But…”
“But...I'm just...I don't know, feeling a little lost. I did some things when I was younger, made mistakes, big ones, that I still feel like...I don't know, I can't let go of lately. I can't move past them.”
“Everyone's made mistakes, Ali. It's wh
at you do after, what you learn from them, that defines you. Hell, I raised two kids until they were damn near eighteen without even tellin’ their father about them. There were so many things I wished I did differently, but things happen the way they were meant to.”
“I know.”
Last Round (Double Play Series Book 6) Page 6
