Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
I think back to the park with Ever. She ran immediately to the swings, leaving Jules and me behind.
“Come on, Gage. Let’s do something else. I brought a ball.”
Gage looked at me, pumping his legs back and forth, going as high as he could. “Nah.”
“Come on,” I begged, looking around for someone else to play with. Gage would play on the swings all day. They bored me. “I’m going to look for something else to do.”
“Ya gotta stay here, Crew. We have to stay together.”
I head into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My body is lean and looks strong. It feels strong. It looks and feels like it’s capable of doing what I’m sure I was born to do—fight.
I miss wrestling. Fighting is in my blood, wrapped tightly into my DNA, and to be told I could never wrestle again was like a bomb being dropped on my life.
“Crew, if you continue wrestling, if you forgo our warnings, you could end up paralyzed. That’s a best-case scenario. Your spinal column simply cannot handle another blow like you just sustained. You’re lucky you’re young or you wouldn’t be walking out of here this time.”
The recovery wasn’t as bad as they said it was going to be. Besides a shooting pain here and there across the top portion of my back, I didn’t feel that injured. Physically, anyway. Mentally, I was devastated. Emotionally, I was destroyed.
Wrestling had been my life and fighting was my future. A contract with the North American Fighting League, or NAFL, was dangled in front of me and then ripped away after my injury. Wrestling had given me all the hope in the world. It was my Golden Ticket, my way out. It had taken absofuckinglutely everything that mattered to me away, too.
When I took the job on the docks, the doctors said that I shouldn’t. That loading and lifting would strain my neck and back, but I really didn’t give a fuck. All I knew then was I couldn’t do what I loved. I just needed a paycheck until I checked out. Fuck it.
Week after week, month after month, I didn’t feel like I was deteriorating. Not once. While that’s a good thing, it’s also a bad one. It makes me wonder, seriously fucking consider, that I could’ve still fought. That the doctors were wrong. That I gave up my dreams for nothing.
My hand is on the knob to the shower when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and look at the screen.
“Hey, Jordyn.”
“Hi.”
“What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
I hear her tap her tongue off the roof of her mouth and I grin. I know that sound.
“Well, I figured you were getting off work and I happen to be in your neighborhood. I was gonna stop by.”
“People don’t just stop by. Is that a nice way of saying you need fucked?”
Jordyn and I have a very friendly relationship. Neither of us are looking for anything serious and we both like to fuck. It works. It’s refreshingly uncomplicated.
“Well, when you put it so eloquently . . .” she says, a door closing in the background. “I’m coming up the walkway now.”
I end the call and head towards the door. When I open it, she’s standing there, looking at her phone. She glances up at me, smiles and walks in, her fingers still flying across the screen.
I grab the phone out of her hand before she knows what happens. “Hey,” she says, reaching for it. I hold it up where she can’t reach it.
The screen says “Elijah.” I laugh, recognizing the guy’s name from the bar. I type out a quick text while she watches, one hand on her hip.
Elijah—I’m about to get fucked. I’ll message you later.
“Give me my phone, asshole.” Her voice has a hint of a laugh and I know she’s not really pissed. Not that I give a damn if she is.
I drop her phone into her purse and toss it unceremoniously to the floor. She looks hot as fuck in a white top that shows off her chest and a pair of black yoga pants.
I back her against the wall and grab her face in my hands. My body is charged, lit up. This wasn’t the release I thought I was going to get tonight, but it’s sure as fuck better than push-ups. Not to mention, I’m fucking horny as hell. She’s not mine and I don’t want her to be but knowing that she was messaging another guy when she walked in here gives me something to prove. A reason to up my game, show her what’s up.
I kiss her roughly, my lips pressing firmly against hers. She grabs the back of my head and works her fingers through my hair. I bite down on her bottom lip, making her half yelp and half moan. The sound goes straight to my cock.