Home > Fighting for Flight (Fighting #1)(36)

Fighting for Flight (Fighting #1)(36)
Author: J.B. Salsbury

“I know. Me too.” I pull back, breaking the hug. “I’ll text you later tonight when you get off work. Are you sure you’re okay being alone at your place? Jonah said you’re welcome to stay in his guest room for as long as you want.”

“Yeah.” She waves me off with a flick of her hand. “I’m fine, but tell him thanks.”

“I will.” I walk out the door, but pop my head back into the office. “Don’t kill anyone from the male species tonight.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Leaving the restaurant, I can’t help but sympathize with every man who crosses paths with Eve.

***

“Excuse me, miss? You aren’t allowed in there unless you’re on my list,” a large rent-a-cop says as he taps his clipboard.

I’m stopped just short of the Training Center’s doors. I knew Jonah had some of the local media coming to interview him today, but this is like trying to get backstage at a U2 concert.

“Oh, of course. Um, Raven?” I hope Jonah put me on the list or I’m about to feel like a complete idiot.

He pushes his mirrored aviator sunglasses up the bridge of his nose with the tip of his index finger. His gaze starts at my feet and slides up my body. I cross my arms at my chest as I’m visually violated.

“I’m going to need to see some identification.”

He’s really taking this door security seriously. It Llooks like someone didn’t make the cut in cop school. I hand him my ID. He looks at his list, checks my driver’s license, studies my face, and is back to his list.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“All right. You’re all clear.” He hands back my card.

I’m surprised he didn’t need a blood sample. I nod in his direction and push through the doors.

The place is alive with activity. The murmur of voices hums in my ears as I gaze around the lobby. No sign of Jonah. I slide through the groups of people and down the hallway to the main training room. The guys are training as usual, but now they’re surrounded by cameras and news anchors. I push through about a dozen people in suits, most of whom are talking or texting on their cell phones.

Stretching up on my toes to see over their heads, I search for Jonah. I see Rex and Caleb boxing with two trainers I’ve never met. Owen is talking on camera, a very attractive news anchor wearing a low cut v-neck shirt and a miniskirt, holding a microphone to his mouth.

“Baby girl.” I jump and squeak at the sound of Blake’s voice at my shoulder.

“You scared me to death.” I place my hand over my heart.

His face is serious and thoughtful. No wisecrack come-ons or dirty jokes. He steps into my space, his green eyes boring down on me. “I heard about what happened last night.”

“Last night?” Memories of being nak*d above Jonah flood my mind. My cheeks flame. I smack my head with my palm. “Oh,Vince.” Of course, he would be talking about Vince.

“Yeah. Vince.” His eyes narrow and jaw tenses. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” I blow it off with a disinterested shrug and pray the pink drains from my face.

He’s still staring. Blake’s never serious for this long. His face looks pained as he studies the space just above my head. I look up. Nothing there. What in the heck is he doing?

“Blake, you’re freaking me out.”

He looks at me, grief working behind his eyes before he blinks it away. “Look, I know . . .” He grimaces and stares at the floor, like he’s gathering strength from it. “I know what it’s like to have a no-good, a**hole for a father. I’ve lived it. Still living it.” He rubs his shaved head. “It’s one thing to f**k with your son, but to f**k with a girl?” A half groan, half growl rumbles in his chest. His focus is fixed on me. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I got your back. And Jonah’s. You feel me?”

I rub my lips together, trying to smash the inevitable quiver. Whatever happened to Blake in his past is enough that the simple memory erases the man I know and replaces him with a scared, timid boy.

My eyes burn with forced back tears. This is too much. First Jonah and now Blake. They act like they would lay down their lives to protect me. That’s crazy. And unfamiliar. It feels like . . . family.

“Yeah, I feel you.”

His eyes sparkle and his cocksure smile returns. He leans toward me with his hand cupping his ear. “I’m sorry. Did you say you want to feel me?” He runs his hands over his chest. “Anywhere in particular or you want me to make suggestions? There’s one place, down—Ow!”

I smack him in the stomach, happy to see the anguish wiped from his face.

He rubs the spot at his belly where I hit him. “We need to get you in the octagon. Damn, that hurt.”

I shoulder bump him, and he takes his cue to pull me to his side. I don’t say a word, afraid that my voice might show the deep emotions I’m feeling.

“Come on. I’ll take you to your man.”

Twenty-three

Raven

Two days until fight day.

My mind is focused on installing a new timing belt on the Impala while the lulling voice of Al Green being so in love fills the air. I mentally inventory my progress. White wall tires, a paint job, and she’s done.

Bent over with my head under the hood, I feel a tight grip on my hips. Jonah’s touch has become a second skin, as recognizable as my own. I smile and gently press my backside into his groin.

“You wanna tell me what it is you’re hiding from out here?”

He’s managed to figure me out in the short time we’ve been together. Come to think of it, he seemed to read me pretty well after a few days.

I straighten from beneath the hood on a sigh. His hands slide from my h*ps to my stomach and I melt into him. His touch in any capacity renders me totally helpless.

“I’m not hiding. I’m processing.”

With my hair pulled up high on my head, my neck is at his mercy. He kisses his spot before gently nipping. I shiver.

“You’re freakin’ out because that formal dinner is tonight and because my mom is coming into town tomorrow.” His ability to read me can also be incredibly annoying.

“Yeah.” Can’t a girl have a secret? “I don’t do well with parents. What if she doesn’t like me? I’m sure she’s really protective of you. I mean if you were my son I would be too. It’s just . . . I know how my mom feels about me . . .”

I’m unable to finish my thought, not wanting to hear the words out loud. The fact is I’m pretty sure my mom hates my guts. She must blame me for her horrible life. If she never had me, she would have been able to run away from Dominick and have a chance at a real life or love. How could she not hate me? Thinking about it makes me hate myself.

“She’s going to love you, baby. She’ll be charmed by you just like everyone else.”

I wish I had his confidence.

“Besides, you don’t know how your mom feels about you. I know her actions show that she doesn’t care, but maybe she doesn’t know how to show you how she feels. Maybe she thinks you hate her. Hell, you have every right to.”

I usually brush off the subject of my mom when it comes up, but something deep inside tugs at me. His love has given me a safe place to fall. I can give him a piece of me. With his chest pressed to my back, I won’t have to witness the pity in his eyes. I can do this.

“When I was a little girl, I used to sneak into her bed at night.”

His arms tense and his chest flexes against my back.

“I would curl up next to her, desperate to feel the heat from her skin. I remember I would slowly inch my hand closer and closer, so afraid to wake her, until I could touch just the tip of my finger to her back or her arm. Sometimes I would just loop a strand of her long hair around my finger.”

My voice drops to a whisper as I’m taken back to those nights. I feel small and insignificant. Crushed with sadness, my lungs struggle for a full breath.

“I usually only got a minute or two before she’d wake up. It was as if she could sense me, even in her sleep, like my very presence triggered an internal alarm system that told her to get away. She would make me go back to my bed. Some nights I’d be so angry and desperate I’d refuse to leave.” My humorless laughter breaks with emotion. “She would get sick of telling me to get out, and she’d go sleep on the couch. She’d rather sleep on the couch than with her own daughter.”

“Baby . . .” he whispers and kisses my head.

“The saddest part is that those nights were the best. I got to sleep the rest of the night surrounded by her smell. I would wrap myself up tight in her sheets and pretend they were her arms. I’d bury my face in her pillow, smelling her shampoo and night cream.”

Hot tears drip from my jaw, and Jonah’s arms tighten on my waist.

“Anyway, that’s the reason I listen to old music. All those old tapes were my mom’s. I took them when I left. I knew she’d be mad, but I also knew she wouldn’t come for them.” I wipe my cheeks and sniff. “Listening to this music, the music she had playing every day of my entire life, it’s the only way I can be close to her.”

The pressure at my waist is released and he turns me to him. I keep my eyes focused on his chest, not ready to confront the look on his face. His fingers beneath my chin pull my gaze to his. Bending down, his lips softly brush against mine and stay there as he speaks.

“Baby, I promise you that you’ll never want for physical contact again.” His big, strong hands hold my head and he leans his forehead against mine. “I’ll always hold you when you’re scared.” He softly kisses my jaw. “Comfort you when you’re sad.” His lips brush against my cheeks. “Take care of you when you’re sick.” Tilting my head back, he kisses my forehead. He bends down and his hazel eyes narrow into mine. “I’ll make it my life’s mission to make up for every second you were neglected.”

I’m captivated by his stare, which, like his hold on my heart, doesn’t let go. I suck in a ragged breath, overcome with emotion.

“I know I say this all the time, but I love you, Jonah. So much.”

“I love you too, baby. Thank you for telling me about your mom. There’s nothing you need to keep from me. I want to know you, even the stuff you’re not proud of.”

“Okay.”

“My gorgeous girl and her ‘okays.’”

I bury my face in his chest, feeling lighter, having released a heavy burden from my past and placed it on the strong, capable shoulders of the amazing man before me.

“Now, as far as the formal dinner tonight goes? You have nothing to worry about. I won’t leave your side, not even for a second.” His dimples slowly appear as a smile creeps across his face. “I’ll even take you to the bathroom with me.” He kisses my neck. “That might actually make this stupid dinner worth going to.”

I exhale as his playful words bring me peace. And the visual of Jonah and I having bathroom sex also helps to chase away the last of my nerves.

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