Do I need to label what we are or what we’re not? “Yeah, sure.”
A few hours later I find myself face to face with the man himself.
“You’re here.” I was surprised to get his call asking me to come to the gym. I honestly thought it was a joke or he was asking me to come to his home gym.
Yes, he has a home gym. Though I’ve never seen his house—not many have—I hear it’s quite spectacular. Maybe not Texas-mansion spectacular, but in my lived-in-a-trailer-park-most-of-my-life perspective, I’ve no doubt it’s huge and impressive.
“Yeah.” He glances over my shoulder before taking my hands. “It was time.”
I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure my smile radiates my inner joy. Maybe this means things are back to normal. He’ll come back to working out here and do more than just kiss me.
Now that it’s been firmly off the table for a while, I realize exactly how much I want Rowdy that way too, and not as a friend. I want more than friendship. I feel capable of more for the first time in my life, and I’m anxious to get on with it.
In the middle of telling me about his earlier call with his sister, Jonah approaches, his gaze darting between Rowdy and me.
Rowdy squeezes my hands and winks.
“Hey, Reese, do you think you could order me some Black Ops shirts? I’ve got holes in most of mine.” He touches my arm, eyes back on Rowdy. “It’s time to replace them.”
“Sure. I’ll send you the link. Just tell me which ones, size, color, and quantity. If I get the order in today, they should be here by early next week.”
“Excellent.” A small pat on my shoulder and he walks away.
That was weird.
Rowdy has a dimpled grin, entirely too happy about something.
“What? You need some logo shirts too?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. How’s your day so far, busy?”
I shrug. “Not bad. Busy is good. Keeps my mind occupied.”
His smile disappears, and lines crease his brow. “Occupied from?”
If he only knew how much I think about him in a day, he’d run far away. “Life.” And apparently, I need to be worrying about the status of our relationship.
Do we have a relationship?
His frown deepens.
Yeah, me too, buddy. Big frown. I’ve no idea how to navigate whatever this is between us.
“Yo, Reesie girl!” Walker comes bounding up, bumping my shoulder. “Did the new PT get with you? She needs to order some of those ice packs I like.”
“Um, no. But I’ll talk to her. She might not realize all orders need to come through me for Cap’s approval.”
“Thanks. That’d be great.” He kisses my cheek in an uncharacteristic move, slaps Rowdy on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you, man. We’ve missed you. Sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Rowdy falls somber.
Walker finger-guns me. “You got this?”
I laugh at his cheesiness. “I’ll get you your ice packs, you big baby.”
“Hey, my body needs what it needs, Reesie.”
I’m sure it does.
“Catch ya later.” He bounds off the same way he came in—with way too much energy.
“I guess I’ve got a few things I need to follow up on. Are you working out?”
“Yeah, I’ll be done when you’re ready to leave.” He kisses my forehead and turns.
“Rowdy?”
“Yeah, Kitten?” He moves in close, cupping my hip.
“Cap invited us to his house on Saturday for a barbeque. Gabriel, Frankie, Ox, Mom, you, me. Do you want to go?”
I see the no on his face before it leaves his lips. “Can’t. Got plans.”
No further explanation. He’s been with me every day for over three weeks. He never has plans that don’t include me, unless I’m at work.
This feels off. “Yeah, okay.”
I mean, what can I say?
No, you must spend every waking hour with me?
What kind of plans? Why am I not invited?
Are we in a relationship?
Are we boyfriend/girlfriend?
Though I try not to be disappointed in his brief, no-details answer, a nagging worry takes root.
I RUB AT THE BURN RADIATING from inside my chest. It started the second I lied to Reese. It was a shit move. I wasn’t prepared for an invite to Cap’s with her family.
I need more time before I’m ready for that.
Coming back to the gym was hard but necessary. I can’t spar or effectively train with myself. I’ve stayed in condition, but I itch to hit someone. I need the release that only happens by fighting a real person, not a fucking sand bag or my Shadow.
It’s nice and weird being back with the guys. They’re great motivation and annoying as hell. But good people. And they helped me out today.
“So—” Jonah spots me on the bench press, eyeing me upside down. “I think it went well this morning, don’t you?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, but you seemed dodgy as hell. You kept side-eyeing me.”
“I was nervous, man. I didn’t want to set her off. I’d never hurt that girl.” He’d never hurt any girl, but I know what he means.
The guys hold Reese in a special place in their hearts. Some of them relate more to her condition than others because of their military service. They all know someone with PTSD or have it themselves. The main difference is why she has it. We’re protective assholes. The idea of someone hurting one of our own, even if we weren’t there in their lives to prevent it, doesn’t settle easily. The fact that she’s a woman and they suspect but don’t know for sure that it was her father doing the hurting, based on Gabriel’s known history, is a thousand times more difficult to swallow.
When I asked Jonah and Walker to help me out this morning, they lapped it up like I offered them sweet pussy. Which I was not. That pussy is mine.
The guys treat her like a stray dog that was traumatized by its previous owner—they want to love the hurt away.
God, I want to do that and so much more.
Since my brother touched her, I’ve been keeping things PG. Besides all the shit going on in my life, I can’t have Reese thinking I only want her for the sex—or sexy stuff, since we’re not actually doing the deed.
Plus, my head is messed up. I’m not taking her virginity when I don’t even know who I am anymore. I was so sure before Mom’s funeral. Now, I haven’t a clue. I can tell Kitten needs me as much as I need her, but my emotional state is all over the place.
I need to talk to someone, but I don’t know who. I’m not the only one impacted by my news. It’s not fair to lay it on one person and expect it to stay a secret. It’s weighing heavy on me. I don’t want to think about the blowback when it becomes common knowledge.
I need to just man up and face it head-on. Talk to the one person who can give me answers.
Or read your mother’s fucking letter.
Jeez, that voice sounded like Drake.
First Mom, now Drake is in my head. I’m cracking up. No doubt about it.
Finishing my reps, I come to my feet, searching the room for my fellow Texan. “Cowboy.”
His head pops up. “Yeah, man?”