She just nods and I can tell she doesn’t care to know much more. She’s never been one for drama and trouble. She just wants to run her club and live peacefully.
The door to the back swings open and Scarlett walks through, strutting over to us in her ridiculously high heels and skimpy outfit.
“Dax baby, we’ve missed you.”
I give her a quick hug and knock my drink back.
“Sorry, Scar, I can’t stay.”
Scarlett wraps her arms around my neck, pushing her body into mine, and licks my collarbone. Sophie smirks from behind the bar.
“I can’t tempt you?” Scarlett says seductively, and if it wasn’t for Rori occupying my every waking thought, I would have caved.
“Oh, Scar baby, he’s found an actual girl now. None of us have any hope.” Sophie chuckles and Scar pouts but winks at me.
“Dax Rhivers, our District bachelor, is finally wifed up?” she mocks and I shake my head at her.
“Goodbye, girls.” I laugh, waving a hand behind me as I walk out.
* * *
I makemy way back into the mansion and head straight to Rori’s bedroom, but she’s not there. In a weak moment of anger, I punch the wall and curse, wishing I knew where she was. Punching the wall again, I shake out my hand and decide to hit the gym to let off some energy. And it’s not until I open the door and see her pounding at the punching bag that I curse myself for not thinking to look here in the first place.
She stops when she hears the door shut behind me, turning to look at me quickly before carrying on.
I approach her and grab some gloves myself, letting out my stress and anger on the punching bag next to her. I watch her from the corner of my eye as she follows the same routine from yesterday in her head. Left, right, hook, hook, up, up.
I take my gloves off and stand in front of the bag she’s hitting, but she doesn’t let up when she sees me. If anything, her punches get harder. As she reaches out for another jab, I grab both of her wrists and pull her into the bag, forcing her up against it and myself against the other side.
She’s breathing heavily and I rub small circles on her arms. She doesn’t move away but stares at me, her face resting against the side of the bag.
“You always fly away from me, Birdie.”
I slowly move my hands further up her arms and down her side, landing them on her hips. She stills a little but relaxes after a few seconds.
“But I always fly back,” she breathes and I squeeze her hips.
She does and fuck am I grateful for it.
“Don’t run again.”
She just looks at me and I slide my hands a little further down, resting just above her ass. I wait for the freeze, the fear in her eyes, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she closes her eyes and rests even further into the punching bag between us.
I lower my hands further and squeeze her ass a little harder, and a small, breathy moan escapes her lips and I can’t help but be drawn to her.
I lean in as close as I can and fan my lips over hers. She keeps her eyes closed and her tongue peeks out to wet her lips and I can’t hold off any longer. I slowly bring one hand to her cheek and lean in, gently brushing my lips over hers, and when she doesn’t lean back, I make my move.
A little firmer, I press my lips to hers and she responds, her lips pressing back with a little pressure. She tilts her head into my hand and I explore her mouth a little further, my tongue resting on her bottom lip when hers gently taps mine.
She pulls away after another second and looks at me softly, my hand still caressing her cheek, the other still firmly gripping her ass.
She’s quiet and I can see her thinking, but I give her the time and space she needs to gather her thoughts.
“That was my first,” she admits shyly and I lean back a little to see her properly.
“Your first?” I question and she blushes.
“Yes.” She dips her head, the flush rising on her cheeks. “My first kiss.”