Broken #3 (The Broken Series - Book #3) (7 page)

“What do you mean?”

“Well for one, we have had sex
multiple times and it's never been sober. I actually grew a brain last night
and walked out of his room before we did it again. Being around him and
drinking lowers my
inhibitions,
and I feel free when
I'm with him. In part, I think that's okay, because I think he brings me out of
my shell, but I also end up on my death bed the next day.”

She nodded. “Well to be honest, I
think you need to start figuring out what Jet means to you, and what you really
want from him. ‘Cause if you genuinely don't want anything more from him than
friendship, then you need to kill the sex, really. But if you do want more,
then I think you owe it to both of you to have that conversation so you can
stop sitting on the fence. I think that's why you're doing all
this―because you're on the fence.”

“Maybe.
Thanks a lot Julie. You helped me a lot.”

She reached over and pulled me in
for a hug. When we separated, I plopped myself back into my pillows to finish
my tea.

“Thanks for the tea, too, by the
way.”

She smiled and headed out the
door, closing it behind her. I lay back and closed my eyes, thinking about the
things that Julie had said. The truth of the matter was I didn't know what the
hell I wanted. I opened my eyes and reached for my phone. I sent a message to
Jet and asked if he would come over tonight to pose for a drawing. He replied
in about half a minute and said he would be there. I set my phone down, and
curled into my pillow for another nap.

When Jet arrived that evening he
looked a little sheepish. When I opened the door, he came straight in and sat
on the couch.

“Hey, Jet, would you like
something to drink?”

“What are you having?”

“Oh, you pretty much destroyed me
last night, so I'm drinking water and coffee and this point. But you are
welcome to have a beer if you want.”

He laughed. “
Ahh
no, I've been feeling sort of rough myself since I got up, so I'll have a
coffee as well.”

I went into the kitchen, and
grabbed a mug out of the cupboard. I picked up the pot of coffee I had brewed
and poured him a cup. It was hot and steamy as it rose from the cup.

“What do you take in it?” I
asked.

“Just cream for me, thanks.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don't intake a lot of
sugar, believe it or not.”

I nodded and retrieved the cream
from the fridge. I poured it into the mug and stirred it with a spoon. I
carried the cup into the living room, and handed it to him. I sat beside him on
the couch.

He stared at me almost longingly,
and I had the urge to touch him. I restrained myself, however, and waited for
him to say something to me. I didn't wait long.

“Can I ask you something,
Natalie?”

“Of course,” I answered, although
I was a little fearful of what he was about to say.”

“Did I do something wrong last
night?”

Surprised, I said, “No of course not;
I had fun at the bar. Why would you ask that?”

“Well, because you came over and
started kissing me, and fifteen minutes later you were walking out my door.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's a little unusual, don't you think?” He
laughed nervously.

It was exactly what Julie and I
had discussed that day, and I was embarrassed that it was so blatantly obvious
to Jet as well. I was a mess, and even he was noticing it.

I chuckled, unsure how to explain
myself. Well, my mother always taught me that honesty was the best policy.
“Look, Jet, every time we get into these situations that involve alcohol, I end
up naked in your bed. I'm not entirely sure that would ever happen if I wasn't
drunk. So it makes me wonder how I actually feel about you in the light of day.
That's why I always bail on you the next day, because I don't know what else to
do. I regret the impulses that get me into those situations, and because I
can't deal with them, I just bail. But it happens all the time with us, so I
think it's just making things worse between us.”

I sighed, feeling better that I
had unleashed all that confusion onto Jet, for better or worse.

“Wow, that's heavy.”

I laughed. “Well, you asked for
it.”

He ran his hands through his
hair. “Yeah, man, I guess I did.”

I smiled and took a sip of my
coffee. This was one of those times when a guy could run screaming into the
night if he really wanted to.

“I understand some of what you're
saying, Natalie, and I understand that there are some things you need to figure
out.” I nodded while he talked. “But I can assure you that I'm on the same page
as you are with regard to the drunken sex; I think it has gotten out of hand. I
promise I won't put you in that position again. If we are ever intimate again
in the future, we won't be drunk when it happens.”

Surprise came across my face, and
I smiled. I didn't expect him to come out with that, but I was glad that we
seemed to be relatively on the same page.

“Shall we get started?”

“Yeah, of course.
So what am I taking off this
time?
My pants, because you did miss out on seeing that
action last night?”

I giggled. “It's not like I
haven't seen it before, Jet.” I winked at him as his eyes went wide.

“Fair enough, so what am I taking
off?”

“Socks.”

“Socks?” he repeated,
incredulously. “Are you serious? You really don't want me to drop my drawers?”

“No, not yet, anyway.
It's too obvious, you know?
That's where the audience would expect me to go next, so I'm surprising them by
doing what they don't expect.”

“I see.
Brilliant,
and yet not very sexy.”

“Well, Jet, this isn't all about
you, ya know?”

“Clearly.”

I laughed. “Okay, get over there
and remove your socks.” I walked over to the dining room table and grabbed one
of the chairs. I positioned it where he normally stood.

“This time we are going to use
the chair. I want you to sit in in cross-legged.”

“It doesn't matter that I'm not
in the same position?”

“No, of course not.
The drawings aren't about the
position it's about the consecutive changes you make.” He nodded, understanding
my viewpoint.

“Gotcha.”
He pulled off his socks, and I giggled as he threw them
at me. He took off his shirt as well, to match what we had done the last time.

“Yuck, those had better be
clean.”

“Of course not, they are the ones
that I wore to the gym today.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, and
started setting up my easel for the drawing. I sharpened my pencils, sat myself
down, and got ready to draw.
 
I looked up
at him, and he looked very much at ease in the position I put him in.

I once again, I started with an
outline. This picture would be a little more difficult because of all the extra
angles. He wasn't in a standing position this time which is easier to draw.
With him sitting with his legs crossed, there were so many different angles.
The fabric of his pants would be scrunched, as well as I would have to depict
his crossed legs without losing it completely for the audience.

“Has anyone ever told you how
beautiful you are when you are concentrating on a drawing?”

I looked up at him again and
smiled. “Well you're the only one who has ever seen me this way, aside from
class, of course. But I think everyone is paying attention to their own thing
instead of looking at my obvious beauty,” I said sarcastically as I laughed.

“Well you are.”

“Thank you.”

When I finished the outline, I
gave him a break to stretch his legs. Instead of grabbing wine like we did last
time, I replenished his coffee mug, and mine, as well. The warm coffee soothed
me, and tasted just like caramel.
 
He
took the coffee mug from me and stepped around to look at the drawing. There
wasn't much to see at that point, aside from the idea behind the drawing. He
seemed to appreciate it all the same.

“It starts out so simply, doesn't
it?”

“Yup, but doesn't everything?”

He set his coffee mug on the
coffee table, and took a quick bathroom break before we continued. When he
returned, he picked up his mug again and took a long swallow. He then set it
down and returned to his position.

The rest of the drawing went
well, and although there were more angles to master, I did so without any
hiccups. I drew in the last stroke of the picture and announced that we were
finished for the evening. He slipped back into his shirt and went in search of
his socks. He found them one at a time, and came to take a look at the drawing.

“It's definitely my favorite so
far.”

“Yeah?
Why's that?” I asked him.

“It seems so casual. You
definitely caught my relaxed state. I like it; you are so good at this.”

I smiled as I looked down at the
drawing. He was right; I had been able to catch his state of relaxation.
“Thanks, Jet.”

He bent down and kissed me on the
cheek. It was soft and subtle, and didn't go any further.

“Thanks for the coffee. I'll talk
to you later, okay?”

I nodded, and watched him as he
walked out the door.

Chapter Six

Jet

Fight night had arrived once
again for me, and I was pretty jacked up to get back into the cage. I wanted to
go to war once again, and take down my opponent. It was the conference
semifinals, and the school was having a press conference beforehand. It was
moments like this which provided a window into the life that I could one day
have in the MMA world. All the fighters that were taking part in the conference
lined up at a table, answering questions from the press.

One reporter called out, “Jet,
what form of attack do you plan on going with tonight?”

“Well, everyone knows that I'm a
natural striker. Although I feel like I have a solid ground game, I like
punching people in the face. It makes me happy.”

There was laughter around the
room. The other fighters began answering similar questions. Before long, the
press conference was over, and we were packing up to get ready for the fights.

We had to prepare. We were
meeting up at another school for the night, so we had a lot of gear to pack,
and Coach wanted us to head out earlier to get our team set up at the school.

I made sure to have my fight
outfit ready to go, and I packed all the essential fighting pieces that I would
need. I met up with Coach in our locker room, and he patted my shoulder. “So,
champ, are you ready for another big fight?”

“Yeah, I can't wait.”

“Conference semifinals are a big
deal. You win this and you are going to the finals. That will be the start of a
great career for you.”

“I'm on it, Coach. I got
this―don't worry about me. I'm going to get there, believe me. It's the
only thing I've ever wanted to do.”

“That's my boy!” he pounded me on
the back. We laughed as we continued to pack up the gear. We left soon after,
piled into the school van, and headed to the school.

We were finally situated in our
own locker area, getting ready for the fight. I had taken a peek outside a few
times, and the gymnasium was jam-packed full of people. It just made the
excitement that much better. I could not wait to get out there. Unfortunately,
I had to wait for everyone else to fight. I was the main card and would fight
last. I had my hands taped, and at that point I was helping the rest of the
fighters warm up and prepare for their fights. One by one, they went out, and
came back to victory. We had a strong team that year, and everyone was at the
top of his game.

As the evening wore on, the time
came for me to fight. Coach was warming me up with pads, and I was warm, my
blood pumping in my heart. It was time to fight.

“And
nowwwww
,
ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all be waiting for.
Our
reigning champion, the only and only, Jett!”

The crowd went ballistic, and I
headed down the aisle towards the cage. I went down trotting, and felt the
crowd going nuts around me as I made my way.
 
I hopped into the cage and stretched out my arms, bouncing around the
cage, keeping myself warm and ready

There were more fans of mine than
Ford’s at the fight that night. The crowd was screaming in a chant, but I am not
my usual cocky self that evening. I didn’t break into a smile, and I didn’t
wave at my fans.

The presenter called out for my
opponent. “And
nowwww
, ladies and gentlemen, the man
that you have all been waiting for. Watch out for Ford!”