Page 139 of Finding Hope

I don’t want to sleep in hotel beds.

I prefer mine.

I don’t want to be in another city, another state, and away from Bambie. I definitely prefer the routine we have going now. She’s barely five miles away from me at all times. And some afternoons, she’s in my gym watching me train.

It would be a lie if I said I didn’t push harder, lift heavier, move faster, simply because she’s watching.

I want to impress her.

I want her to have the choice of any man in the whole world, then I want her to choose me.

Her clever hands continue to knead my muscles until my head droops with exhaustion.

I’m tempted to take my shirt off, to have her skin on mine, but my family will be home soon. Being half naked with Bambie on my sister’s couch wouldn’t be my smartest move.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with me? I can have flights and shit booked for you right now. We could stay in hotels. I’ll take you out to fancy restaurants.”

“Nuh-uh.” She digs her thumb in. “I don’t want fancy restaurants, Jack. I want hotdogs on the hood of your car. I wanna dance in the rain.”

“We can do that, too. Any time you want.”

“When you get back,” she promises on a sigh. “But I can’t come with you this week. I have school.”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

“Jack!” Kit dips her fingers in her water glass and flicks the droplets at my face. “Put your phone away and eat.”

“Shh.” My fingers fly across the screen as I text Bambie. She’s telling me all about what she may or may not be wearing right now.

I don’t give two shits if I’m in a restaurant with my brothers and sister. I don’t care that it’s dinner time. I don’t care about anything except the fact that it’s Wednesday, I haven’t seen Britt in five days, we’re on opposite sides of the country, and I miss the fuck out of her.

My girl wants to send me dirty texts, I’m going to reply.

I smile and try to keep the dirty chuckling to a minimum when she sends me a boob photo, but it’s simply side boob, a little ink, and her middle finger. She’s teasing me.

And it’s working.

My dick literally touches the underside of the table, and my steak has gone forgotten.

Me:Show me more.

“Jack!” Aiden snaps. “We’re talking here, pay attention.”

“No.” I angle my phone so no one can see the screen.

Me:Show me your pretties.

Bambie:Which one?

My dick swells and throbs.

Me:Clit. I wanna kiss it.

“Hi, there. You’re The Jackhammer, right?”

I slam my phone down on the table and look up into a woman’s big brown eyes. My family snort and tease my fight name, but I simply catalogue the strange woman and curse her to Hades for scaring the shit out of me.

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