Grabbing her belongings, Jasmine stood and made her way to the other side of the pool closer to where Maddox’s chair was. She placed her things a few chairs down from his and continued to watch him swim, like some sort of aquatic stalker. His tan skin fit tightly over the muscles in his back, which flexed with each stroke. Maddox’s movements were fluid like the water itself, and it didn’t seem like he ever tired. The man was truly a machine.
Finally, he stopped at the other end of the pool and leaned against the side. Jaz wondered when, if at all, Maddox would see her and if she’d be able to recognize it when he did. She watched him for a few minutes, but he gave no indication that he’d seen her. When he began swimming again, she prepared herself for his exit out of the water, which she was certain would be one of the hottest things she’d seen in recent memory.
And it didn’t disappoint. A few seconds later, Maddox’s head emerged from the water, and he placed both hands on the deck of the pool as he pushed himself up. In Jasmine’s mind, the moment played out in slow motion—each bead of water dropping off his hair and skin lazily until it splashed silently onto the ground. The man looked like he was cut from stone, every inch of him hard and defined. He wiped a hand over his face to get some of the water off and began walking toward his chair.
She’d come over here so easily, but now that she was faced with…facing Maddox, she felt like her presence here would seem too convenient, even though it had been a complete coincidence that she’d chosen to use the trial pass for today. He’d probably think she was there to rope him into some sort of freaky threesome he wanted no part of. She’d barely spoken to him since their morning-after chat, and though she missed their easy conversation and how Maddox had seemed so open with her, she had no idea what to say now that he was only a few feet away.
But it turned out she didn’t need to. Because without even noticing she was there, Maddox found his place back in his chair and closed his eyes. She watched him for a moment, the muscles in his face relaxing and his chest rising slowly with each breath. He looked peaceful. And the last thing she wanted to do was be the one to ruin that.
She’d already ruined so much else.
Chapter Thirteen
Yoga classes weren’t exactly Mad’s scene, but he couldn’t actually say that for sure because this was the first one he’d ever been to. He’d promised Jasmine weeks ago that he’d observe one of her classes and give her some honest feedback, and though fulfilling that promise was now awkward as fuck, he was a man of his word. And he could definitely keep his business and personal life separate.
Until he’d arrived in the room, he hadn’t considered how weird it would be to watch her class without actually taking the class, even though that was what he’d originally planned to do. That way he wouldn’t make a fool of himself or have to let Jaz help him get himself unstuck from whatever position he wound up in. But now that he was faced with the decision, he felt he couldn’t just sit in the back in a chair and look on as members of his gym contorted themselves into cats or camels. So he grabbed one of the extra mats and found a space on the wood floor closer to the side of the room in the second row. He felt like maybe that spot would make it seem like he was somewhere between wanting to get a good view of the instruction and being as unobtrusive as possible. It made him feel like he was picking the seat in his first class as a college freshman—wanting to make a good impression without becoming the target of the professor’s attention, especially since, at twenty-five, he’d been significantly older than the other students in his class.
Jasmine smiled at him when he’d entered and thanked him for coming as if she hadn’t been sure he would. It made him feel like shit, but he wasn’t sure that anything he could’ve done would’ve made her think differently.
The first thing Mad noticed was that the turnout for the class was larger than it had been since Jaz had begun teaching it, which he took as a good sign. With sixteen people there, the room was nearly at capacity. She’d begun the class with some breathing exercises on their backs, and after a few minutes, Maddox felt himself begin to unwind—as if his body and mind seemed to melt into the mat. The tension left his jaw, and his open hands felt light. Jasmine’s voice floated through the studio, the soft tones mingling with the low music playing in the background.
He’d never really noticed her voice before now—how soothing her pentameter could be and how every syllable felt heavy with importance. He wondered if it was the class that had his senses heightened or the fact that it simply gave him a chance to appreciate Jasmine in a way he hadn’t since the night they’d hooked up. Images of their dance—and their kiss—filled his mind, and he tried desperately to push his thoughts to the side. Recognize any errant thoughts and move on, as Jaz had instructed the class to do. But it was an impossible task. There was no way Maddox could think of anything but Jasmine in this setting, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking of him too.
Had she looked at him at all since the class began? Or had she avoided even a glance in his direction? He had no idea, and it scared him how much it mattered what she thought of him. Because as much as Maddox hated to admit it, he had a thing for this woman, and whatever that thing was wouldn’t go away. He told himself it was a crush, a sexual attraction that would lessen with time until it eventually disappeared completely. But even as he tried to convince himself of that, he knew he was lying.
The majority of the class passed without the need for Jasmine to interact with Maddox, but when she helped them stabilize themselves into some position that he’d already forgotten the name of, Jaz made her way through the room, subtly correcting people’s positions so that they were individually challenging. Mad knew he was trying too hard, forcing himself into a static place where he feared he might be stuck for all of eternity. There were people in the room more than twice his age who were able to hold themselves for minutes in a place that Maddox knew he wouldn’t be able to come close to mirroring.
“Relax your shoulder blades,” Jasmine said, approaching him from behind and placing a hand on his upper back. “Reach over with your body, not only your arm. Like you’re opening yourself up from your core.”
Maddox wished he knew what the hell she was talking about. In theory, he did. But putting her suggestions into practice was a different story entirely. He felt tight all over, rigid in a way he knew was the opposite of yoga’s purpose.
When he didn’t adjust his stance, Jasmine spoke. “May I?” she asked, touching her fingertips to his chest.
“Sure,” he nearly grunted out.
Then she pulled gently on his chest, pressing his back against her body and pulling his arm over farther than he would’ve ever been able to get it on his own. “Like you’re a fan,” she said. “It’s not just the blades moving. It’s the whole mechanism.”
The analogy made sense to Maddox, and he said, “Don’t move, though, or this fan’s gonna fall over.”
He heard her laugh but unfortunately couldn’t see it in the position he was in. She remained there for support until she directed them to stand up slowly, which, to his embarrassment, she helped him do.
After Jaz had attended to Maddox, he’d noticed her do the same with a few other people, though they definitely didn’t need as much help as he did. There seemed to be a variety of ages and experience levels, but none of them looked like it was their first class. Most of the class kept up relatively well with Jasmine’s directions, and with some concentration, Maddox was able to as well. Only twice did he mix up his left and right legs, but he corrected it before Jasmine noticed. He knew his left from right, but the whole thing was so overwhelming to him, he had trouble keeping up.
By the time the class was winding down, Maddox’s muscles were more fatigued than he’d expected them to be. He didn’t go into the class thinking yoga was an easy exercise by any means, but he definitely hadn’t anticipated feeling like this. After class, he took a few minutes to introduce himself to the new members and watched as Jasmine inte
racted with many of them. She didn’t seem to know them well necessarily, and that didn’t surprise him since it was one of her first yoga classes. But she had a way of making a personal connection with each of them—asking how their knee was feeling, if they’d had a good trip to the beach this past weekend.
Once everyone had left, Maddox approached her. “That was some workout.” He wiped some sweat from his forehead.
“You thought so?” Jasmine’s voice rose like she was excited at the comment, and he figured it was probably much more of a compliment to her than he’d realized.
“I definitely broke a sweat. I’m a strong guy, but I couldn’t hold most of those poses for more than a few seconds. And some of them I couldn’t get into at all.”
“Yoga’s a different kind of strong,” she explained, and he couldn’t be sure if her comment was said for the purpose of providing information or making him feel better. “There are plenty of people who can lift a ton of weight but have trouble with even beginner yoga.”
Jasmine busied herself with wiping down some of the mats that belonged to the gym, and Maddox was suddenly aware that he was standing there watching her. “Let me give you a hand,” he said before moving toward the wipe dispenser and grabbing a few.
“So what do I need to fix?” she asked. She didn’t sound discouraged but rather eager to hear his recommendations.
It was definitely a welcome change from other employees who hated to hear any sort of criticism, even during their formal evaluations. But now that he was standing in front of someone who valued his opinion—asked for it, even—he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say other than, “Nothing. I think you’re great.”
She smiled at him and, looking almost embarrassed, said, “Come on, Maddox. There’s gotta be something.”
“No, seriously. I loved it.”
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes locking with his in a way that seemed like she was studying the truth in them. “’Kay,” she said finally before turning to put the rest of the mats back.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s something,” Maddox insisted.
She squared herself to him, crossing her arms and waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t, she said, “I don’t believe you.”
“Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
“Because there’s no way Maddox Gibson is going to sit through an hour-long class with a new trainer and not have at least one suggestion.”
“Well, that’s exactly what I just did.”
There was a rigidity to Jasmine’s jaw that Maddox noticed, and it made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t identify. Why did everything this woman did seem to elicit some sort of physical reaction in him?
“I know,” she said, sounding irritated. And though he didn’t really understand why, he was hoping she might tell him. She looked like she was about to speak again, but shaking her head, she dropped her arms and turned toward the door. Then she said, “I’ll just get Wild to do it.”
The words stung more than they probably should have—and certainly more than she’d meant for them to—but given what had happened between all of them, the last thing he wanted was for Jasmine to go to Wild because Mad couldn’t be counted on to do something he’d promised to do. The problem was that Maddox honestly didn’t have any suggestions. She was a professional and knew more about yoga than he did.
“I don’t have any criticism for you. You don’t have to go to Wild for it,” he said sternly.
“Look,” Jasmine said, sounding calmer than she had only a moment ago. She played with the knot at the bottom of her tank top—pulling it tighter as she spoke. “The last thing I wanted was to cause a problem between you and Wild.”
He realized that his comment about not going to Wild had probably been misinterpreted. He just didn’t want her thinking he was placating her by telling her she was a good yoga teacher. “There’s no problem between Wild and me.” It was the truth. He and Wilder hadn’t exactly talked about anything Jasmine-related since she’d left their apartment that day, but they were best friends. Bros before hos and all that. Not that Jasmine was a ho. Just because she liked both of them didn’t mean she was promiscuous. The way she’d explained it had actually made sense. Logically, at least. And also if it had applied to someone other than Maddox. But there was simply no way he could get on board with the idea. “The whole thing just weirded us out a little bit. Not that you’re weird,” he said quickly. “It’s just not for us, that’s all.”
“You already said all this.”
“I know.”
Then, without speaking, they stared at each other, the air between them thickening with every silent second that passed.
“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” Jaz asked him. There was a light in her eyes—a glimmer of something that excited him in a way he couldn’t remember feeling. Combine that with the curl to her lip, and there was no way he couldn’t answer.
“Good crazy or bad crazy?”
She shrugged. “Crazy’s crazy, right?”
Maddox let out a long sigh as he warred with himself. For a reason he couldn’t explain, he’d wanted so badly to tell her about that time in his life, because she had a light to her that would brighten even the darkest moment in his life just by sharing it. But another part of him worried about what she might say—or rather what she might think of him. That he was weak or selfish. And the last thing Maddox wanted was for the woman he cared so much for to think less of him.
But something told him that no matter what he revealed to Jasmine, it wouldn’t change her opinion of him. So before he could chicken out, he said, “I tried to kill myself.” Saying the words out loud was strange—considering he’d never told another person, not even Wild. Though he’d assumed Wild always suspected what Mad was up to when they met on top of the bridge, Mad staring at the depths below, they’d never spoken of it after Wild had convinced Mad to join him for dinner. The rest had been history, and Mad had never wanted to bring it up. Had never wanted to confirm just how big a mess he’d been when he’d been discharged from the army with nowhere to go and no skills to fall back on.
Jasmine’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Maddox was grateful for it.
“Wild stopped me,” he added. “It’s how we met, actually.” He almost expanded on the story, but Jaz’s expression prevented it. She looked like she might cry, like she was surely regretting asking the question, and it made Mad’s throat dry up. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. He reached up to tug on his hair a bit but thought better of it because he figured the gesture would probably make Jasmine think he was even more insane. “I’m sure that wasn’t what you had in mind when you asked that.”
“No,” she said. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean for you to think of that. It must be such a painful memory. I had no idea.”
“How could you?” Mad wasn’t sure when they’d gotten closer or who had entered whose space, but they were close enough now for him to smell the soap on her skin, the coconut and mint of her hair. She smelled like fucking summer, and he couldn’t breathe in enough of her.
“Can I ask why you did it?” she said, her voice so quiet, so cautious, that if they weren’t as close as they were, he probably wouldn’t have heard her.
“Because I was fucked up,” he explained. “I’m still fucked up.”
He didn’t resist when she took his hand, and he wasn’t sure if it was just because he welcomed the comfort or because it went against his every instinct to reject any type of physical contact from her.
“I think everyone is some kind of fucked up,” she said.
They were both quiet for a long time, and Maddox wondered if she could hear how fast his heart was beating. “I can’t be who you want me to be,” he said at last.
She put a hand up to touch his cheek. Her touch was soft, slow, like she was scared the action might startle him. “I think you already are,” she whispered.
Maddox
put a hand over hers and brought it down to their sides before releasing it. “You know what I mean,” he said. “I want you, Jaz. I think that’s pretty obvious. But I can’t be a guy who looks the other way while you screw my best friend.”
“I never said you had to turn around.” She laughed, but it faded when she realized her attempt at humor didn’t land. “I’m kidding.”
“Are you, though? I mean, really.” He took a few steps back, suddenly needing the space. His mind was so fucking jumbled, his body so full of feeling that he didn’t trust himself not to kiss her when she was that close. “How does something like that even work? Like…like one of us takes you out and then you spend the night with that person? Or we all go out and you choose one of us?” Now he pulled at his hair, not giving a fuck what it looked like. Why the hell he was even asking about this, he couldn’t explain, because there was absolutely no fucking way he’d ever try it. Not a chance.
“It can work however we want it to. That’s what I was trying to explain at your apartment. It’d be our relationship. Mine and yours and Wild’s. There are no rules other than the ones we’d make.”
“This is ridiculous,” Maddox said.
“Is it? You keep saying that, but the fact that we’re talking about it now—and that you were okay with it that night—”
“I was drunk!” Even though he’d already been called out on this lie, he couldn’t help it from spilling from his lips a second time.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “We both know Maddox Gibson never really gets drunk. Not drunk enough to do something he wouldn’t do sober, at least.”
She had a point, though he’d never admit to it.
“You want to know why I asked you what the craziest thing you ever did was?”
He paused for a moment, his arms settling over his chest and his breathing slowing some. “Why?”
Misadventures in a Threesome Page 9
