Rules of Entanglement (Fighting for Love, #2)

Jackson ran a hand through his hair and let out the breath he’d been holding since he saw the red mark of his hand on that pale ass walking away from him. Fuck, he was in trouble. She was feisty as hell when she had her wits about her. It surprised him to find it was just as fun being on the receiving end of that arrogant attitude as it was to rid her of it with some well-placed kisses.

He wished he could say he’d slept as well as she had, but the small taste of her had only made him want her more. Most of the night was spent rocking in the hammock and convincing himself to leave her be for the remainder of the night instead of starting a sex marathon to rival the days of the Romans.

By the time the sun peeked over the horizon signaling the time for his morning run, he’d probably only gotten a couple hours of restless sleep. Now his eyes felt scratchy, and he hadn’t mustered the energy to shave, so he was sporting a day’s worth of stubble.

He wasn’t sure what the rest of the day would bring, but one thing was for sure. He needed to get some alone time with Miss MacGregor as soon as humanly possible.

She showered and dressed in record time and a half hour later, they arrived at the gym just as his other teammates were trickling in. He introduced her to his coach, Frank, and explained that she was a guest of his and would be sitting in as a spectator for the workout.

The guys gravitated to her like a Playboy bunny in a monastery. Frank brought out his “nicer than those damn metal things” leather office chair, and she had her pick of the Powerade Zero flavor rainbow from the guys who always brought coolers full of the things.

As he stretched on the mats, Jax looked on with amusement as she laughed at their antics and they dubbed her team mascot for the day. He couldn’t blame them for their good-natured flirting. Even with her hair in a ponytail and her simple outfit of khaki shorts and teal halter top, she made a damn pretty picture. Add in her outgoing personality and infectious smile, and there wasn’t one of his teammates who wasn’t smitten with her.

If they’d been anywhere else and random guys were paying her the same attention, Jax had a feeling he’d be a lot less amused. But his boys knew she was there with him, and regardless if he and Vanessa were openly dating or just friends, they wouldn’t break Guy Code by seriously hitting on her.

Soon Frank broke up the group and harassed the guys into starting their warm-ups. They did a bunch of jump-roping and jumping jacks, then dove headlong into suicide sprints. The entire camp of men worked their asses off, giving their coach one hundred and ten percent of their effort, and sweating enough to soak through their clothes five times over.

They took a five-minute break to rehydrate before they split into groups. Jax was in the group to hit the cardio circuit first. After that he’d move on to agility, strength, grappling, striking, and sparring. Leaning on the wall across the gym where he’d stashed his gear, he chugged his Powerade while trying to figure out why every cell in his body urged him to go to Vanessa and spend the few minutes of break he had left with her.

For that reason alone, he stayed right where he was. Enjoying her company and being eager to get her beneath him for some more fun between the sheets was one thing. But the need to take whatever opportunity he had just to be on the receiving end of that smile was a foreign feeling he wasn’t sure what to make of. So he’d prove to himself he didn’t in fact need it. That he was fine right where he was.

The double doors leading to the parking lot swung open and a lean kid barely old enough to drink legally sauntered through with a heavy gym bag slung over his shoulder, pushing his mirror-black sunglasses onto his head.

Coach glanced at the clock on the wall then glared at the kid sharply enough to cut right through him. “Akana! Who in the hell gave you permission to walk into camp whenever you damn well please?”

Chewing on gum like a cow with cud, Danny Akana offered an apology about as sincere as a lion to a zebra before his first bite. “Sorry, Coach. Overslept. Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Frank said with a finger jabbing the air in the kid’s direction. “Or next time you’ll be scrubbing everyone’s jocks after practice.”

Akana held both palms out in a sign of concession, but as soon as Frank turned his back, the punk made a jerking-off motion with his hand.

The kid was the son of one of Frank’s oldest friends, which explained Frank’s leniency with him. If any of the other guys had pulled that shit, they’d be punished physically until they puked, passed out, or both. Jackson didn’t know Akana well, as the kid had only been with the gym for a couple of weeks, but he knew enough to know that he didn’t like him. He was cocky and disrespectful, and Jax couldn’t wait for the day when someone knocked him down a peg or two. Or out.

“One more minute, fellas!”

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