Scott finally advanced, throwing a fast jab toward Darren’s face, which Darren
easily dodged. Kicks were exchanged, a few more strikes, but I could see Darren was
on defense, almost like he was trying to tire Scott out. Scott was good, and I mean
really good, but Darren was just a tad bit better. Scott seemed to stiffen up after a
while, but Darren’s remained loose and relax, well-conditioned, sharp and agile.
A few more missed strikes later, Darren caught Scott’s arm, shifted his hips to
sharply pivot his body into Scott’s, and flipped him right over his side, taking Scott
to the ground. Shit, he was fast. Scott was easily two hundred and thirty pounds, so
the loud bang he made when he hit the floor almost jolted me. The impact looked
like it knocked the wind out of Scott, giving Darren the advantage to drag Scott’s
body up and pull him into a rear naked choke. It only took ten seconds before Scott
finally tapped out.
Goddammit. I hated how impressive Darren was.
Darren released him, and the two slowly staggered back to stand where they
shared a quick handshake and exited the cage. Darren suddenly locked his focus on
me as he made his way over to a weight bench and laid down.
“What do you want, Jaden?” he asked, grabbing the bar and lifting it up while
Scott stood behind his head to spot. The fucking thing had three one hundred
pounds of weight on each side. His muscles rippled and tensed under the pressure,
and I found myself having a hard time concentrating on why I was here in the first
place. I just watched Darren put Scott into a submission, and now, he was bench-
pressing six hundred pounds like it was whatever. Fuck.
“Jaden,” he said, grunting after the tenth rep, and I realized I’d been staring for
far too long. Trying to focus on what I came here for, I folded my arms and licked
my suddenly dry lips.
“I just wanted to see if you would mind if I went outside for a while.”
Darren finished his set before returning the bar to the stand and sat up,
regarding me closely. His breathing was a little heavy, but it was even, and the
sweat dripping down his lightly tanned skin was nothing short of a distraction.
“Have you been a good girl today?” he asked, his brow slightly raising as a smirk
formed across his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him before I made light of his asinine
question.
I looked up toward my right in thought and placed my chin in my hand. “Hmm
… I don’t think I’ve threatened anyone today. Does that count?”
Darren chuckled, giving me that shark-like grin of his, the one that warmed my
stomach. “Give me fifteen minutes and then I’ll be up to go with you,” he said,
laying back down to bench another set.
I watched him push the weight up and down a few more times before I shook my
head of the sight. “Mutant,” I mumbled and then walked out the door.
“Lightweight!” he yelled back, but I just shook my head and kept walking. At
least, he was in an agreeable mood.
I headed back into our bedroom, intent on listening to some music and watching
out the window while I waited for Darren. True to his word, fifteen minutes later, he
appeared in the bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom for a quick shower.
He was out in less than five minutes. I kept my eyes on the window knowing he’d
emerged from the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist. I didn’t
want him catching me checking out every stupid chiseled inch of him. Another
three minutes and he was dressed in a light gray pullover sweater that hugged him
like a second skin, dark jeans, and black leather boots. He laid his heavy black
jacket on the bed, along with mine, gloves, and a hat.
“Put your coat on, please,” he ordered, now draping his over his shoulders.
Holy shit, did he just say please?
Happy that he’d actually asked nicely, I got up and did as he said and zipped up
the parka, put on my gloves, but grimaced at his selection of hats. It was light
purple with the little fuzzy pom-pom on top. The fuck …
Taking the hat, I rounded the bed, intent on choosing a different hat, but Darren
grabbed my arm and stopped me.
“Uh, uh,” he said shaking his head.
“Oh, come on, Darren! I’m not twelve!”
He positively glared me. “Are you accusing me of being a pedophile?”
I felt my gut take a backflip. “No, I just—”
“Then stop arguing and put the damn hat on,” he said darkly and began to lead
me away from the closet and out into the hallway.
“But why does it have to be this one?”
“So I can easily spot you, that’s why; now, let’s go before I change my mind.”
I huffed and then begrudgingly slid the hat on over my head, trying to ignore the
heat in my cheeks from irritation. Why couldn’t I just have a plain black hat like
his? Why did everything I wear have to stick
