Page 91 of Fighting Jacob

This is the first text I’ve received from her in over eight weeks, but it isn't the reason for my gaped jaw. How did she know what was going on today? As I said earlier, neither Emily nor I told anyone about my second brush with the law.

Like a flash of lightning in the sky, it dawns on me. Lola was one of a small handful of people who knew about my first conviction.

Does that mean...?

Did she...?

Am I still in with a chance?

A car behind me honks when I complete an illegal U-turn to direct my car away from the hospital. It's nearly two PM on a Tuesday, meaning the answers I'm seeking are in the opposite direction of the way I was traveling.

My stomach lurches when I enter Hank’s gym, then it leaps when a giggle I’d never forget sounds through my ears. “You’ll get used to it. From what I've been told, the funky smell grows on you—let's hope they mean figuratively.”

After dropping a sweaty towel on the bench next to us, Lola slings her glove-covered hands around my neck. “I’m glad you’re not behind bars. We were getting worried when we didn’t hear anything.”

When she pulls back, it’s the fight of my life to let her go. I wouldn’t if I hadn’t seen Hank jogging toward us from the corner of my eye. “Jacob!” He replaces Lola’s arms with his own. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” After pulling back, he pokes his index finger into my stomach. “If you stay away too much longer, you’ll get pudgy on the inside.”

He’s joking, but it doesn’t stop my spine from straightening when Lola’s hooded gaze floats my way. When she smiles, my heart races. I know that smile. I know it very well. She still digs me.

Once Hank unties her gloves, she smiles before sauntering toward the locker rooms. “It was nice seeing you, Jacob.”

She’s engulfed by steam before I can assure her the pleasure was all mine. I stare at the empty entrance for several heart-thrashing seconds before shifting on my feet to face Hank. “How’s she doing?” She looks tired, but she’s still as gorgeous as ever.

“She’s good." Hank's smile fades into a frown. “Why didn’t you tell me what her ex did to her?”

“She told you about that?” The disbelief in my tone makes my words come out louder than intended. I’m not angry. I’m more shocked than anything. Lola was adamant she didn’t want anyone to know what happened to her, so I’m surprised she was upfront with Hank. Don’t get me wrong, she isn’t a liar, but she’s a pro at sidestepping interrogations.

“Not in so many words, but yeah, she told me, but why didn't you? I was mad for weeks after your arrest. If you’d told me what had happened, I would have understood. I’m not a complete asshole.”

Recalling the words Maggie said to me years ago, I notch up my shoulder. “It wasn’t my story to tell.”

I never understood what Maggie meant that night, but I have more comprehension now. When Callum assaulted Lola, he didn’t just make Lola lose her faith in him; she lost it in everyone. Trust takes years to build, seconds to break, and a lifetime to repair. I should have remembered that when rumors circulated that Lola was back with Callum. She doesn’t trust him because she doesn’t trust anyone—not even me.

With my shoulders hanging lower than they were seconds ago, my eyes drift to the locker room. I can feel Hank’s gaze burning a hole in the side of my head, but nothing can take away from the movie rolling through my head. Lola and I had so much fun in that shower stall. I taught her how to protect herself mere minutes before she taught me she already knew how. That’s why her shell is so hard. She protects herself by keeping everyone away—everyone except me. Not a single fight I've won the past two years was more victorious than breaking through Lola's shell. It was my hardest-fought battle, and I'm not even halfway through it yet.

Spotting my forlorn look, Hank nudges me toward the locker room. “Go talk to her, Jake.”

“I can’t.”

If I endure the hurt look in her eyes one more time, I might snap like I did three days ago when I knocked out the paparazzi's teeth. I don't know who the fuck that man was, but I'm reasonably sure he wasn't me. I don't react in violence. I'm the easy-going, never let anything bother me guy. I just... snapped.

Hank moves to stand in front of me with the same determined look he had every time I argued I wasn’t ready for my first fight. His gloves are on and ready to pummel some sense into me. “Why not?”

I scratch my brow while sighing. “It’s complicated—”

“Complicated, my ass. You two are just too stubborn for your own good!” He gets right up in my face like a drill sergeant screaming orders at a private. “Go and talk to her, or I'll ride your ass so hard, you won't sit for a week.”

He pushes me until I’m standing in front of the women’s locker room entrance. I’m double his weight, so I could easily push him off if I wanted to, but maybe he’s right? Perhaps we should talk. Silence hasn’t gotten me anywhere fast, so perhaps it’s time to try something new.

The nerves jittering in my stomach are audible in my voice when I ask Lola, “Is it safe to come in?”

Hank chuckles at my corniness. He can laugh. He hasn’t experienced the wrath of an angry Lola.

My zipper bites my cock when Lola replies, “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before, Jacob.”

My eyes bug out of my head when I enter. Lola is standing in front of a row of mirrors. She has a tiny towel wrapped around her curvy body. That’s it—just a towel. A. Tiny. Towel.

Pretending I’m not seconds from coming like a virgin dipping his hand into a cookie jar for the first time, I pace closer to her. I try to keep my eyes on her face. I horrifically fail. I’ve spent hours upon hours studying every delicious inch of her body, yet I’ve still got so much left to discover. Her body is pure dynamite. There’s no better word to describe it. Tight, compact, and so explosive, it’ll impact more than your heart when she explodes.

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