Fighting for Flight (9 page)

“How many?”

He makes a circle with his finger and thumb. “Zilch.
Never.”

I stare at Blake, trying to figure out exactly what
he’s telling me and hoping like heck I don’t misunderstand.

“We’re just friends.” Thankfully, I’m wearing
sunglasses so he can’t see my eyes betraying my words.

“Just friends, huh?” He rubs his chin then shrugs.
“Perfect. I’ll see if a couple of my dates want to hang with Jonah
tonight after the barbeque.” He braces his hands on his knees to
stand.

No.
“Wait.” Reflexes have me grabbing his
arm. My heartbeat throbs with panic.

He looks at me. “You got something you wanna say,
baby girl?”

I like Jonah.

The words are there, but I can’t bring myself to say
them. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I won’t be able to work
with him after suffering that kind of embarrassment. Putting myself
out there like . . . No, I need to keep my feelings private. His
friendship means too much to me. And really, what kind of chance do
I have with a guy like Jonah Slade?

“Yeah, I just wanted to say . . .” I let go of
Blake’s arm and lean back on my lounger. “Go ahead. Jonah’s free to
date, er, um,
be
with whoever he wants.”
Gosh, that
hurt.

Blake studies me for a second before leaning in.
“Jonah’s a lot of things.” He looks around the pool then back at me
before sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. “But from what I’ve
seen tonight, he’s not free—at least, not anymore.”

He struts away, acting completely unaware of the
shock-and-awe devastation he left behind. “Raven, a little later we
can play Titanic,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll yell ice burg
and you can go down.”

A laugh rips from my chest, fueled by giddiness from
Blake’s admission.

He’s not free . . . not anymore.

Could Blake be right? Is it possible that Jonah
could be feeling the same thing I’m feeling?

Eve comes back from the bar and sits at the spot
Blake just vacated. “Finally, he’s gone. He’s a sweet piece of eye
candy, but the second he opens his mouth . . .” She shakes her head
and takes a sip from her water bottle. “Why do you think he’s so
funny?” She points her grimace in Blake’s direction.

“I think he’s hilarious.”

I lie back, a face-splitting smile aching my cheeks
that has nothing to do with Blake.

Raven

“My woman can cook,” Owen bellows from the doorway of
the kitchen as he brings in a stack of dirty and very empty
plates.

Nikki takes the plates from his hands and kisses him
lightly on the cheek. “Thank you, baby. Now get out of here before
I put you to work.”

These two look like a famous Hollywood couple. Owen
has deep mocha skin and short cropped hair. His body is similar to
the others: athletic, bulky, and the perfect mix of captivating and
terrifying. His rugged masculinity is a contrast to his wife’s
caramel-colored skin, soft curves, and long, wavy hair. He gives
her a playful swat on the bottom, making her squeak and jump, her
light brown eyes sparkling.

She drops the plates in the soapy water. “Thanks for
helping me clean up, girl. I’m usually the only other female around
that does more than stick my tits out.” She rolls her eyes at the
obvious reference to the women Blake brought with him.

“It’s the least I could do. That was one of the best
meals I’ve had in a long time. You’re an incredible cook.” I rinse
out a huge bowl that once held a delicious fruit salad.

“Thanks. I get a lot of practice hanging around this
group.”

That doesn’t surprise me. The guys alone ate enough
to feed a small country. I think Jonah grilled an entire cow.

“Nikki, where do you want me to put these?” Eve asks
from the doorway, her arms filled with more plates.

Jonah follows behind her, a few bottles of
condiments in hand. He walks to the fridge to put them away.

My gaze is soldered to his form, and I nearly slice
open my finger with a soapy steak knife. It shouldn’t be legal for
him to walk around without a shirt on. Reckless endangerment.

“You girls don’t have to do this. My cleaning lady
comes in the morning.”

“Like dealing with your dirty drawers isn’t enough,
you’re going to make that poor woman clean up after the five of
you? Uh-uh.” Nikki turns Jonah around and shoos him from the
room.

“All right, all right, I’ll go.” He wraps Nikki in a
one-arm hug.

She leans in with a grin.

His eyes find mine. “But, Nik, don’t work my girl
too hard. She needs to take care of those hands. Can’t have tools
sliding from her grip because you overworked them.” He hits me with
a wink and walks away.

Nikki chuckles. “Damn, girl. He’s sprung.”

Eve snickers in the corner, stacking clean dishes to
the side.

I can’t believe he just called me his girl! And
something about the way he talked about tools sliding in my hand.
Sure, it sounded like simple shop talk, but the way he held my eyes
made me feel like he was as if her were talking about using my
hands for something entirely different. First Blake and now Nikki.
Could they be right? They’ve known Jonah a lot longer than I have.
Is it possible that he could be feeling something? For me?

I rushed through the rest of the dishes, anxious to
get back to Jonah. The kitchen is spotless in record time.

“Well, girls.” Nikki wipes her hands on a dishtowel
before hanging it perfectly on the rack. “I think we’ve just earned
ourselves a little hot-tub time.”

Minutes later, I’m submerged in liquid heaven. I
lean my head back as the warm bubbles caress my body. Everyone
around is either in the water or sitting on the edge, dangling in
their legs. Conversation hums around me. Relaxing, I allow my eyes
to slide shut, a soft moan drifting from my lips.

“. . . then tell her to swallow.” Blake’s punch line
has me giggling despite the fact that I didn’t hear the joke.

Eve’s responding snort drags me from my relaxed
state and has me laughing harder.

Feeling eyes on me, I turn my head away from Eve and
Blake. My laughter dies instantly.

The carnal stare from Jonah’s eyes has me
mesmerized. I’m unable to look away from the smoldering hazel. My
blood heats and pounds in my ears. A yearning, deep and delicious,
stirs in my belly. The intensity making it hard to breath, my chest
rises and falls erratically. He tilts his head as his eyes travel
from my face to my breasts and back again. I suck my bottom lip
into my mouth, and my mind conjures images of him coming at me from
across the warm water. I squirm.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumble to whoever’s
listening and excuse myself from the hot tub.

I push up and swing a leg over to jump out. A hiss
sounds from behind me, like someone sucking air through his teeth.
I turn and find Jonah with an expression that looks like pain mixed
with something new I can’t name. Whatever it is makes my stomach
plummet and land low. Really low. I grab my towel and head for the
bathroom.

Locked inside, I flip the toilet seat closed and
sit.
What was that?
I fan my flaming cheeks. What that was,
was hot. And it had nothing to do with the water temperature. It’s
happening more often: our eyes lock on each other, and the world
around us fades away. But why? I can’t explain it, only that he
must feel some attraction or . . . God, what is wrong with me?

I step to the mirror and let down my hair, running
my fingers through the tangles. This is crazy. I have a major crush
on a UFL fighter who probably looks at me and sees nothing more
than a score: a naïve girl who will fall for his charm and meet
some need on a physical level. If that’s true, why hasn’t he made a
move? What would I do if he did? My lips curl and my stomach
flips.

Fed up with staring at my goofy grin, I wrap my
towel around my waist to head back to the party. I duck my chin to
my chest as I push through the door, hoping to shake my
love-sick-puppy smile before I face Jonah.

“Raven, right?”

I jump at the sound of a female voice. The blond
girl who came with Blake is standing just outside the bathroom. Her
arms are crossed at her chest as she glares in my direction.

My smile fades. “Yes?”

She looks me up and down as if I’m covered in
cockroaches. Her lips peel back in disgust. This feels so much like
high school. I curl into myself.

“I’m just trying to figure out what Jonah would want
with a little grease monkey like you.” Her icy stare continues to
scrutinize me from bare feet to bikini top. “What are you?
Eighteen? Do you really think a silly little girl like you could
satisfy a man like him?”

I jerk from the truth in her statement.

The words
he’s just a friend
itch at the back
of my throat. Something tells me we’re more than that, but
uncertainty seals my lips.

But she’s right. I’m inexperienced and young. Men
want women who are confident and know how to please them. My
shoulders sink as I consider all the ways I’m not good enough for
Jonah. Maybe she’s right and I’ve been misreading things.

“Jonah and I . . . We’re just friends. You want him,
he’s yours.” My voice is dull, and my heart sinks like a lead
balloon.

I push past her with every intention of getting as
far away as I can before I do something stupid, like cry. A firm
grip on my elbow halts my getaway. In shock, I lean away from the
blonde, who is sneering inches away from my face.

“Want him?” She flashes a heartless smile that tells
me she’s going to enjoy whatever she’s about to say. “I’ve had him.
He fucked my brains out last week.”

I turn my face away, trying to escape the vulgarity
of her words.

“Yeah, that’s right. And he screamed my name,
begging me for more.” She leans in so close I can smell the liquor
on her breath. “He said I had the sweetest pussy he’s ever
tasted.”

My eyes burn, tears threatening to spill.

“Keep your filthy fucking hands off of him. He
doesn’t want you. You’re nothing but a worthless piece of white
trash, and he—”

“Who the
fuck
do you think you are?”

An enraged male voice breaks her concentration. In
unison, we turn toward the source.

Oh, crud.

“Jonah.” His name escapes on a whisper.

His jaw is tense and ticking, his fists balled at
his sides. The fierceness in his stare is terrifying, and it’s not
directed at me.

“Get the hell out of my house,” he spits out through
clenched teeth while glaring at Candy.

“Jonah, honey, I don’t know what you thought you
heard.” Like a sneaky little viper, she tries to backpedal. “We
were just having a little girl talk.” She releases her hold on me
and brushes my hair over my shoulder.

Jonah’s eyes dart to mine then move back to glare at
Candy. “Out. Now.” His voice trembles with rage.

Candy lifts her head and squares her shoulders.
Lithely, she moves past Jonah, stopping to look him in the eye.
“You’re really going to pass this up?” She looks down at me from
over her shoulder. “For
that
?”

Her reference to me being an object rather than a
person has me studying the concrete at my feet.

Jonah grumbles a reply I can’t make out. Whatever he
said makes Candy finch before she struts away.

My heart is beating out of my chest. I peer at Jonah
from behind my hair. His head falls forward, hands resting on his
hips. I hear the sound of him breathing deep and blowing air from
his mouth as if he were trying to calm down.

He looks up at me, concern etched on his face. “You
okay?”

“Yes.” I’m unable to control the quiver in my
voice.

He steps to me and interlaces his fingers with mine.
“Come on.”

He leads me into the bathroom and locks the door
behind us. Releasing my hand, he leans against the door. My arms
wrap protectively around my body in an attempt to hold myself
together. His face is more relaxed, but his eyes are still
angry.

“Raven, I owe you an apology.”

I stumble back a step. An apology? I wasn’t
expecting that. “No, Jonah you don’t owe me—”

“I slept with Candy.”

My body stills along with my words. I close my
gaping mouth, surprised at his honesty. “Um, I know that.”

He shifts on his feet and rubs the back of his neck.
“I slept with her.” He takes a deep breath. “Why is this so hard?”
He mumbles to the floor before his eyes meet mine. “I slept with
her a week ago.”

This, too, I already knew because of Candy’s less
than ladylike admission. “Okay.”

Is that all I can say? Okay?

“I didn’t invite her here. I’m not interested in
her.” His eyes study my face for a few silent seconds.

“Jonah, you don’t need to explain—”

“There’s something else.” He takes a step toward
me.

I pull in a large breath through my nose and blow
out my mouth. Can I handle his something else? I nod.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Yes, I can handle that.

My cheeks hurt as I wrestle against an embarrassing
grin. “Okay.”

He takes another step in my direction. “You’re
unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

My breathing picks up, my heart pounds, and
something begins to unfurl and flutter in my chest. “Okay.”

“I want to be with you.”

Is this really freaking happening?

“Okay.”

He closes the final few feet between us. His arms
surround my waist and lock at my lower back, forcing my hands to
his bare chest. The heat from his skin ignites a fire in my palms
that shoots down my spine and awakens my senses. The gentle rise
and fall of his breath, the rhythmic beat of his heart, all
magnified. My bikini-clad breasts brush against his rib cage. The
friction makes me shiver in his arms.

He slides his hands up my back, trailing his fingers
across my skin. Goose bumps skate across my flesh. A bright smile
lights his face at my response to his touch. His eyes become
hooded. His hands rest against either side of my neck, rubbing my
jaw with slow swipes of his thumbs. I watch in amazement as his
eyes travel from my eyes to my lips before they drop to the side of
my neck.