Page 50 of Second Chance Ex
I glance sideways at Ryan who is now standing right beside me, ready to jump in if he needs to.
“Is this guy for fucking real, or what?” I ask Ryan, pointing a thumb at Adam.
Ryan shakes his head. “Man stop, there are cameras,” he says quietly, warningly.
I know there are cameras; there are people pointing cameras at me wherever I go. And I know that the last thing my agent wants to deal with is negative pressaround the League’s golden boy knocking out dickheads in broad daylight, but right now, I don’t care. And frankly, my right hook has a mind of its own. And before I can stop myself, before Ryan or any of the other guys can step in, my fist connects with Adam’s jaw, knocking him flat on his ass.
The people around us scramble, and I hear someone gasp, someone shriek, someone cheer. But I ignore them all, staring down at Adam as he looks up at me clutching his face, eyes wide like he can’t believe I actually punched him. But even now, the fucker is still smirking. I’ve just knocked him on his sorry ass, and he’s fucking smiling at me? I’ve never kicked a man when he’s down, but my foot is straight up begging for release.
Heath crouches down and pulls Adam up by the scruff of his jacket. Ryan pulls me back. The other guys start doing damage control with the people seated out on the deck, telling everyone it’s just a little harmless fun between friends, offering to shout a round. Meanwhile it’s taking all I have not to climb over Ryan to get another shot at the sorry sack of shit.
I’m finishing up getting dressed when I hear the loud ruckus of what sounds like the guys returning back from the mountain. Tonight, we’re all headed out for dinner, drinks and dancing. And while normally a nightclub isn’t my kind of scene, after a day like today, I need to let loose.
The spa was just what I needed to ease the tension in my muscles, but I still can’t rid the tension in mind at the memory of Joey’s glorious dick pressed against me in the butler’s pantry this morning. Especially now, since I know Joey and Jessie aren’t really together, that I don’t need to feel guilty about grinding on another girl’s man. It’s still all matters of fucked up, but I’m hoping wine helps. Wine, and maybe a little tequila.Famous last words, I’m sure.
Checking my reflection in the mirror, I’m filled with doubt and regret. I only packed one outfit to wear for our designated night out. And Ichose this dress in particular because it hugs my curves and shows off the body I usually try to hide most days; chosen strictly to remind Joey exactly of what is no longer his. Now, after grinding all over him, I feel like an idiot. A clingy black dress with a pair of sky-high heels that will no doubt cause me to end up on my ass, red lips, winged liner and a slicked back bun, I can’t deny I look good. But, now I’m not really in the mood to show Joey what he lost; now I kind of want him to take whatever he feels like and have his way with it. And I am not at all happy to admit that shameful fact.
The bedroom door opens and I glance over as Adam walks in.
I smile. “Hey, how was the—oh my god, Adam, what the hell happened?”
I run across the room, reaching for his chin, forcing him to look at me. There’s a big welt bruising the left side of his jaw, obvious swelling, and a bloody, raw split in his bottom lip. I gawp at him, my eyes bouncing between his, waiting for a response. But he won’t meet my gaze, instead he looks down at the floor.
"Adam?” I press.
He shrugs a shoulder. “No big deal. I just fell.”
“Youfell?” I’m incredulous, because exactly how dumb does he think I am.
He nods. “Yeah… onto Joey Tanner’s fist.”
My jaw drops. “Hepunchedyou?”
Adam nods, but then he shrugs another shoulder, walking past me and into the bathroom. “But I mean, I guess I did kind of deserve it.”
I tail him, staring at his back as he starts wiping at the split in his lip. “What on earth—what happened? Why did he punch you?”
“He called me a rapist.”
“Awhat?”
“A rapist,” he repeats the word as if being called a rapist isn’t a huge fucking deal. “I’m not, by the way,” he quickly adds, glancing back at me. “There was this story going around about me from college that I assaulted a girl. She went to the police and everything. I almost got kicked out of school. But she came out afterwards and said I was innocent and that she made the whole thing up because she was pissed off that I didn’t want anything more serious with her.”
I take a moment to process that piece of information. “Oh my god, Adam, that’s… horrible.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
He shrugs again. “It’s okay. She apologized and I forgave her. We all do dumb shit when we’re hurt. No biggie.”
His words resonate with me because doing dumb shit when we’re hurt; ain’t that the truth.
I continue watching as he goes back to cleaning up his face. “So why exactly did Joey punch you? Sounds like he’s the one who deserves an ass-kicking?”
Adam snorts, glancing back at me, his eyes incredulously wide. “Would you punch a six-foot-five defensive lineman?”
I roll my eyes.
Adam chuckles. “He punched me because I told him it was really killing him to see his girl with someone new, someone like me. Which is straight-up facts, by the way.”
“Again, with the wholehis girlbullshit.” I groan. “What is this? 1955?”
