Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance (18 page)

BOOK: Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance
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“You do the same. Be safe.”

“Don’t worry too much about me.”

She sighed, shut the door, and then took off, but not without looking back at me at least twice. As soon as she was inside the gates and out of my sight, I drove away.

During the whole fucking drive to the Dirty Dawg Pit, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

My mind was racing.

My conscience was all fucked up.

And my cock? It was still as hard as a fucking
rock
when I remembered how damn wet she was for me.

I didn’t know what the hell she was doing to me. I didn’t even know I was capable of having so much fun with a person…but I did. At a goddamn carnival. Who knew?

Funny thing was, I couldn’t wait to get back home later to tell Grandma Marie all about it. She was going to love how I spent my birthday. I already knew.

Shit.

Wait.

I hoped that didn’t make me whipped for Jenny already.

Damn.

If so, the twins really weren’t going to shut the hell up now.

Chapter 16
Jenny


S
o
! Come on, Jen! The scoop! I need to know every single freaking detail.” Kylie was looking at me with wide eyes, her hands waving in a gesture that greedily shouted
“Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!”

I giggled and felt a blush tinge my cheeks as I gripped C.C. in my arms. C.C. was short for Cotton Candy, and C.C. was the pink teddy bear Drake won for me at the carnival.

I fought a grin as I sighed and told Kylie everything, from him picking me up from my house after I dropped my car off, to me suggesting to go to the carnival at the diner, and then about what happened in the confines of his truck.

When I reached the truck part, she gasped loudly, bouncing on the bed. I’m not sure how she was bouncing so much with her legs crossed Indian style on top of the mattress but she was. She was a hyper chick.

“You’re kidding!” she gasped.

“I’m so serious.” I blushed again.

“He actually kissed you?”

“He’s a pretty good kisser,” I admitted.

“Hell, I bet. He looks like one. So… did he touch you anywhere?” She scanned my body with her heavy eyes, a mixture of protectiveness and glee swimming within them.

I nodded bashfully. “Everywhere, really. But the place I remember most is… down
there
.”

“Down there?” she repeated in a whisper, her eyes wider now. “You let him?” she squealed.

“What!?” I laughed. “It felt good! And I honestly didn’t want him to stop or pull away. Things got kinda carried away, but… I could tell he liked it. He had to stop us. He has way more self-control than I do, I’ll tell you that.”

“Nah-uh. How could you tell he liked it? No—wait. Let me guess! He was hard as a fucking brick of gold?” She busted out laughing as she jumped off the bed.

“Bingo,” I sang.

Her laughter continued as she swiped up her cellphone from my vanity. “Wowww. Sounds like things got really hot and heavy between you two last night.” Her eyebrows wiggled and she put on a smirk.

I laughed quietly, but just as Kylie came back to the bed and started to ask me something else, there was a knock on the door.

“Jennifer? Open the door.”

I slightly rolled my eyes. “What?” I called.

“Open the door,” Mom said loudly. “I need to talk to you.”

I glanced at Kylie. She held out her hands and shrugged, and then she pushed off the bed again, making her way towards the door. Unlocking it and swinging it open, Kylie beamed at my mom but Mom hardly returned one.

“Oh… Kylie.” Mom’s mouth went into a thin line as she stepped past my best friend. “I didn’t realize Jenny had company over.”

“That’s because I snuck in through the window like the boys do late at night,” Kylie teased. She was joking around, but Mom’s eyes quickly darted to the open window, watching the curtains billow from soft gusts of wind. “Relax, Mrs. Roscoe.” Kylie held up her hands and waved them. “I was just kidding.”

“All right, then.” Mom looked at me. “Jenny, may I have a word alone with you in the hallway?”

I glanced at Kylie. Kylie slightly rolled her eyes, going for her car keys on the recliner. “Oh, come on. No need for all that, Mrs. Roscoe. I was just on my way out. Jenny, call me later?”

“I will.” And I really wanted to, because I had so much more to gossip with her about, and all of it involved Drake.

Kylie was gone before I knew it and I was left in my bedroom with my witch of a mother. I dropped C.C. on the recliner and stood up, running my fingers through my recently unbraided hair.

“Yes?” I asked impatiently.

“We are having guests over tonight.”

I frowned. “With who?”

“It’s with whom, Jennifer,” Mom corrected, peering around my bedroom. Her nose scrunched with mild disgust. She didn’t like how I’d changed my room from the bubblegum pink she loved, to the teal, grey, and white that I loved. She said it was too boyish. I didn’t care. I loved these colors. “With the Trinibalds.”

I groaned. “Why them again?”

“Because Mr. Trinibald is your father’s stock broker and without him he wouldn’t have made such great investments for your future.”

And her hefty bank account.
“How long will they be over?”

“Until they see fit to leave.” She crossed her arms, tapping her foot in her burgundy heels. She then sighed, dropping her arms and stepping back. “Sue will be serving fish along with your favorite, the honey dipped bread rolls.”

I can’t lie and say my mouth didn’t water for the bread rolls. I loved those things. Made with so much honey and honey butter, flaky and soft. Perfection.

“On the side,” Mom continued when she noticed my guard go down, “some grilled asparagus, and for dessert is chocolate cake with a smooth, delicious ganache filling.”

I never understood why she felt the need to go into such detail about everything. Mentioning the bread rolls was enough. We all knew the cake was for her to sneak in after midnight. Gremlin, she was.

Maybe because she knew I was sort of a foods girl. Food was my weakness—more like my kryptonite—and she hated that I didn’t try harder to burn off the calories or maintain a strict diet like she forced herself to do.

Unlike her, I refused to eat a single pea, drink a full glass of water, and then claim myself full. I’m full when I’m actually full.

“Anyway,” she waved a hand in the air. “I was coming up to tell you so you don’t make plans. Your father would like you there. It will be served at 6:30. Don’t be late to the dinner table.”

“Sure,” I muttered beneath my breath as she walked towards the door.

Before she could go, she glanced back, giving me an odd look as she ran her eyes all over me in my shorts and cami—no bra.

Turning, she said, “Last night, Mrs. Tiller said she saw you getting out of a truck—a truck she’d never seen before. She thought it was a young man driving?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

Mom’s eyes narrowed and her shoulders squared. “Are you dating someone?”

“No,” I lied.

“Who do you know that drives a truck? Was it a friend of Kylie’s? You know, I really don’t like you hanging with that girl. She’s very obnoxious and not very classy. She takes everything as a joke when you need serious peers—people that will steer you in the right direction, which is upwards and beyond, not backwards.”

“Mom, can you get out of my room?” I thinned my eyebrows, staring at her like a hawk. “I don’t care what you think of Kylie. You can’t change our friendship. I hang out with her because she understands me. She’s my best friend because, unlike you and all those serious people, she isn’t judging me all the time or criticizing every aspect of my life. Wait—no. There
was
Mitch, but you know… he’s gone now.” I held my hands out and shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.

Mom’s face went blank, as it always did when I said the name she was so afraid to say, but then something else filled her eyes. I swear it was remorse.

She knew how close Mitchell and I were.

She knew he was my only real friend growing up.

Not only that, but something told me that Mom only came up to my room and talked to me because she wanted to have some sort of connection with me—even if it was an annoying, bitchy type of connection.

That mother and teenage daughter connection.

Without much thought, she straightened herself up, adjusting her red blouse and flipping her curls back. “Be at dinner, Jennifer. Dressed properly and on time.” She walked away with those last words, out of my room and down the stairs.

I didn’t care.

I sat back down, grabbing my cellphone off the pillow. I sent Drake a text before I could start thinking about what I said about Mitchell. I knew Drake was probably working, but I was starting to miss him and now I needed to see him.

I needed to laugh or relax or something. Or maybe I just wanted to be so close to him that all I could feel, all I could think, and all I could do was be consumed by him.

Instead of texting me back, he called, and a grin swept over my face when I saw his name pop up on the screen.

“Hi,” I breathed.

“Hey, Snoop.”

“Are you busy?” I asked. I heard pans clanking in the background and deep laughter. It was most likely the twins.

“On break right now. Was just about to call you.” I can hear the delight in his voice.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m serious. I told you I would call. You just didn’t give me enough time.” He was such a smug little bastard.

“Sure,” I teased. “So how was the showdown thingy last night?”

He was quiet for a moment. “It was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Just okay.”

I sighed. “Did any fighting happen?”

“Jenny, don’t,” he mumbled.

“What?!” I pleaded.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re interested or that you like what I do.”

“But I am interested and I’m okay with what you do.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So fill me in? Any fighting?”

“None. Just a bunch of yelling, showboating, chair throwing.”

“Yeah?”

“Lots of sweat too,” he laughed as if he recalled something funny. “The AC went out. People got irritable.”

“Sounds exactly like the Dawg Pit I visited.”

“Yep.”

I was quiet for a second. I listened to the twins cackling like banshees in the background. Sighing, I focused on C.C. in the recliner.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I frowned. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

“You’re quiet. Are you thinking?”

“I tend to think a lot.”

“What are you thinking about right now?” His voice was relaxed and soothing. I wanted to open right up to him, but I held back.

“I’m just a little aggravated. I have to attend this stupid dinner with my parents and my Dad’s stock broker. I’m not really in the mood.”

“Then don’t join them.”

“I have to.”

“Says who?”

I rearranged my sentence. “Well, I don’t want to, but I will… for my dad.”

“But not for your mom?”

I rolled my eyes, glad he couldn’t see the revolted look I displayed. “Nope.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t overanalyze it.”

“What?” he laughed. “I didn’t say anything.”

I laughed as well.

“My shift is over at seven but I’ll be going to the gym afterwards. After that… maybe I can pick you up—save you from the hell you’re in?”

I cracked a smile. “I would love that.”

“Around nine sound good?”

“Sounds great, Drake.”

He was quiet again for several seconds. “Should I tell you something to get you through your dinner?”

“I don’t think anything you say will make up for the dreadful dinner that’s bound to happen.”

He chuckled, and it was much quieter on his end, as if he’d left from all the chaos. “I think this will help—at least until I see you tonight.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “Fine. Go ahead,
Doom
.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what happened last night. With you and me. Touching you like that…” He paused and breathed deeply, as if he were reliving the memory. I recalled every touch and word in his truck, nearly breathless as he spoke up again. “I thought about it all night at the Showdown and even when I got home. You felt good, Jenny. Really good—almost
too
good. I wanted to do so much more to you, but you’re different and I want to do this right. I don’t want to fuck up. You’re too valuable for fuck-ups, you know?”

“Yeah,” I panted.

He laughed. “You like that?”

I giggled. “Yeah,” I repeated, easing up on my heavy breathing.

“Knew you would.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Cheer up. It’s only dinner. I gotta get back to work but I will call you as soon as I’m on the way.”

“Can’t wait,” I chimed.

“Later, Jenny.”

“Bye, Drake.”

He hung up, and I dropped my phone on the bed, flopping back on my fluffy comforter and grinning like a fool as I stared up at the ceiling.

He was right. Now I was going to be daydreaming about what more we could do together—how much we’d actually play it safe when we saw one another again.

I guess one hour of my life was okay—as long as I got to spend the rest of my night with Drake, it was cool.

A sacrifice for something much greater in the future, that’s what I considered it.

* * *

D
inner was pointless
.

Mom hardly looked at me unless Mr. or Mrs. Trinibald asked me a direct question about school or talked about how great going to Harvard would be for me.

Their questions were just as useless. The only reason my parents wanted me at dinner was because they didn’t want us to look like the weak, broken family we actually were.

The truth was we had horrible family values.

None of us took it seriously anymore, not even Dad, but he still tried a little here and there. Mom, on the other hand, had completely given up, sticking with it for the mega bucks he made.

Around 9:30 p.m. and Drake was calling. I answered rapidly.

“I’m here,” he said huskily into the phone.

I was out of my house and through the gates in no time.

I jumped into Drake’s truck and he pulled off immediately, the loud roar of his engine most likely irritating some nerves again.

BOOK: Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance
7.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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