Page 24 of I Am Lioness

“Blondes, Emmanuel. Blondes are my type.”

Manny threw his head back, barking out a full-bellied laugh at the same moment my eyes bugged out of my head and Bernie muttered aJesus Christ.

He can't possibly be referring to me...

Could he? No, right? That would be ridiculous.

I gaped long and hard in his direction through Manny’s howling but Jason wouldn't look at me, his line of sight trained firmly on his plate. It wasn't until he lifted the coffee mug to his lips that he regarded me for a fleeting moment before returning to his breakfast, as if nothing had happened.

From the corner of my eye I could see Bernie shaking his head disapprovingly. Being the wise man he was though, he chose not to comment more than he already had. I decided to follow his lead and keep my mouth shut as well because asking what exactly his admission meant would only make the situation more awkward than it already was. And believe me, it was about as awkward as I could take.

Silence engulfed the table once more and everyone seemed to be cleaning their plates minus myself. My food was suddenly not so appealing anymore. I don't know if I was shocked or just downright disgusted but I couldn't bring myself to touch any of it. Not even the bacon, which spoke volumes.

I was poking my food around, debating whether or not I should pull Jason aside later and ask him the million dollar question, when suddenly a now familiar voice boomed beside the table.

“Good morning.”

The deep, velvety sound hit me like a freight train, jolting me in place. White-hot goosebumps flourished over my skin, singeing each layer down to the blood rushing through my veins. I peeked up into crystal blue eyes and gasped as all the air rushed out of my lungs.

Oh. Fuck.

If it seemsto good to be true, it probably is. That’s how the saying goes, right?

As I sat on the edge of the bed, back in the solitary confines of my room, I couldn’t think of a time when a phrase had ever been more true.

Scoffing, I dropped my head into my heads, mentally chastising myself for going balls to wall over Hazel Perry in the first place. What the hell was I thinking?

If I’d been more level-headed and played it cool—like I did with any other woman—there was a great possibility I wouldn’t been sitting here now, feeling like a dejected asshole. Even Luis, who never interfered with my “love life”, had essentially told me to take a deep breath and calm the fuck down.

But it was out of my control. Whatever this was,itcontrolled me. My thoughts, my actions, everything was consumed by this crazed, insatiable need for Hazel, and I would’ve trampled over anything standing in the way of her and I if it meant I could have her.

Perhaps it was because I knew this wasn’t a one way street, that the pull between us was undoubtedly as strong for her as it was for me. I'd seen it firsthand in the smile that lit up her beautiful face, or the way her eyes smoldered when she looked at me, or how every light touch, every brush of our fingers set us both aflame. It was undeniably real and something neither of us could seem to ignore, and coming to Vegas had solidified it all.

Or so I thought.

Aside from Jason abruptly ending our night long before we were ready, everything had been perfect. From the casual conversation, tothatkiss,and everything else in between, I’d gone to bed under the impression we were moving along in the right direction. The morning’s events, however, proved I could not have been more wrong.

I don't know what exactly I was expecting when I strolled up to Hazel’s table but what actually took place was far from it. Her reaction was disheartening. How she tensed at the sound of my voice and peeked up at me with panic in her eyes.

The fire I’d seen burning there hours before was gone. But I brushed it off as the initial shock of yet another surprise and waited for her to say something, anything. Instead she glanced frantically between the three men seated around her like a deer caught in the headlights. I couldn’t decide if she was more worried about what they thought of me or that she would have to explain who I was.

How would she begin to define us anyway? This thing had collided our lives with such force that we had no choice—ready or not—but to grab hold and ride the wave. And because of that, we’d bypassed the just friends zone before we even hit the ground running. Where that left us, I wasn’t so sure.

I didn’t have to dwell on it long though. The answer became very clear when I noticed Hazel truly struggling to introduce me to the older gentleman beside her.

Terrified, she stumbled and stammered over her words, wringing her fingers nervously in her lap, until finally she managed to say,he’s friends with Reyna.Talk about a bitter pill to swallow. It felt like she’d slapped me in the face and kneed me in the gut in one swift move.

To say it stung barely began to scratch the surface, but amidst my chagrin, I stood tall and extended my hand to the man, throwing in a friendly smile for good measure. He introduced himself as Bernie, death-gripping my hand in the process, while observing me with stern brown eyes.

Something about the way he looked at me and how Hazel seemed most concerned about his reaction, told me he wasn't just her coach. I made a mental note to ask her about it later, if there would even be a later, that is.

Not wanting to feel like more of a fool than I already did, I took off shortly after that. I also decided to skip breakfast with Luis and Reyna. Whatever appetite I had prior to seeing Hazel had vanished and I was in no mood to be questioned by the two. They'd known me long to enough to sense when something was off and they would not hesitate to give me the third degree.

I shot them a quick text and hightailed it straight up to my room, hoping the solitude would quiet my racing thoughts. Much to my dismay, however, being alone did nothing to calm my nerves or abolish the sense of imminent doom that hung over my head. In fact, it did quite the opposite, giving me far too much time to over-analyze every detail of the exchange and torment myself with the why’s and what if’s.

After trying—and royally fucking failing—to figure out what I’d done for her to make such a drastic 180 from last night to this morning, I pulled out my phone to answer a few emails I’d seen come through late yesterday afternoon.

It was merely a temporary distraction but I needed something to do other than stare at the ceiling and mentally berate myself for being such an idiot.

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