Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
It also freed me to break up with Ian, which I immediately did. He didn't take it well, and that was when the stalking began. Which led me to the door of Brooks Boxing Gym and into the arms, literally, of Porter Brooks.
Which then led me to look, apparently, like I'd been hit by a bus.
"It's not that bad," I tell her, sinking on the couch next to Renae and fighting back a wince of pain. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.
"Uh-huh." She snorts. "Tell me again about how you went in for training and ended up being the star pupil for a tall dark and sexy boxer?"
I roll my eyes. "It's not like that."
"Oh no? So you didn't get a full-body blush when he was standing behind you with his hands on your hips? I can see your face, Bails, and it's a dead giveaway."
She's right. Just the memory of him pressed against me makes my cheeks grow red again.
"He's a good guy. A gentleman."
"Yeah, a gentleman who wants to fuck your brains out."
I choke on my sip of tea, my eyes going wide. "Renae!"
"What?" she asks, shrugging. "You can't tell me that he doesn't. Every little detail you've told me makes it seem like he's a wolf and you're a prime steak."
"He is not!" I cry, setting the mug down and standing.
Renae watches me. "Then why are you getting all defensive?"
"Because he's my trainer! I don't know him that well."
"But you'd like to, wouldn't you?" she teases.
"Shut up," I mutter, walking into the kitchen. "He's too old for me. You're wrong. It's not happening."
"Okay, whatever you say. Hey, have you heard from the asshole today?"
I sigh, grateful for the change of subject. "No. He's been radio silent. Maybe he's finally given up."
"Yeah, and maybe you'll win the lottery tomorrow," Renae says dryly. "Bails, the guy is a creep. He's not going to give up unless you make him. You need proof—pictures, videos, or something."
"I know." I pull the container of Chinese takeout from the fridge and grab a fork, walking back into the living room. "It's just … I feel so stupid for ever letting it get to this point, you know?"
"Hey," Renae says softly. "Stop. You aren't stupid. And none of this is your fault. I wish you’d stop blaming yourself."
"It's hard not to."
"I know."
We lapse into silence, and I finish my food, tossing the container back in the fridge and taking a shower. I don't want Ian on my mind, especially when I'm showering, but as soon as I push the thought of him away, Porter is right back at the forefront of my mind.
He's a handsome man, for sure. And his hands were so big, and his voice so warm, and when he looked at me, there was something in his eyes I hadn't seen before.
I shake my head, scrubbing my hair furiously with shampoo. What am I thinking? Even if I want to go there, there's no way it could work. We're not just miles apart in age. He's my trainer, for God's sake.
But … there's something about him. Something I'm drawn to, and the more I think about him, the more I realize that it isn't just a physical attraction. It's so much more than that.
He makes me feel precious, important even.
It's something I've never felt with a man before, and it's definitely foreign.
And dangerous.
The fact that Renae can guess the chemistry between me and Porter just from my descriptions isn't good. It means that I'm not just imagining things, and it's not just the adrenaline of trying something new to protect myself from Ian. I'm actually attracted to Porter.
The thought follows me into the shower and as I lie in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling. There's no way that a guy like Porter would want anything to do with a girl like me. Except … the way his eyes linger on my body makes me think that he does. And I don't think he wants to wine and dine me. At least, that's not the only thing I think he wants.
What is it that Renae said? Porter wants to fuck my brains out? Could he, really? The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating. It's a side of myself I've never explored, and the thought of Porter opening that up, showing me that side of myself, makes me want to scream.
But I don't scream. Instead, I pull my blanket up to my chin and continue to stare at the way the streetlights play on the ceiling, trying and failing to ignore my racing heart.
3
PORTER
I have to be at the gym early to let the contractor in, and after two entire hours of listening to numbers and timelines, I'm ready to go back home. And the day hasn't really even started yet.