“Maybe you missed one?”
I exhale loudly and shrug. “Who knows? I guess it’s possible.” I reach for the bottle and carry it downstairs, throwing it in the garbage. “I’ll ask her when she’s back next week.”
Lena smiles. “Good idea.”
We leave for the gym and I set the perfume out of my mind, not wanting to give it any more attention today. If I let myself, I’ll overthink it and work myself up into a frenzy, convinced that Lance is trying to mess with me from prison, and that just isn’t possible.
I’m sure Lena’s right. The housekeeper found it and set it out. It’s certainly more expensive and fancier than what I normally wear, so she probably thought she was doing a good thing by displaying it. I’ll just let her know that I don’t want her to rearrange my things anymore.
“Someone had a good weekend,” Lena says with a smile.
“Are you reading me?”
“Honey, I don’t have to be psychic to feel the sex vibes rolling off of you.”
I feel my cheeks pinken. “There might have been some sex.”
“Uh huh.” She parks in front of Ben’s dojo and cuts the engine. “Good for you.”
“Oh yeah,” I reply, nodding. “It’s good for me.”
Lena snorts as she climbs out of the car and joins me as we walk inside. Some of the girls who take the class are already here, stretching on the floor of the classroom. Ethan, Ben’s manager, is at the counter, talking to a muscular guy that I haven’t seen before.
I glance around, looking for Ben, but I don’t see him.
“I wonder where Ben is,” I murmur.
“He’s in there,” Lena says, pointing to a smaller classroom. Ben’s in there, instructing a woman.
And his hands are on her. She’s a bit taller than me, and definitely younger. Blonde, with boobs that she definitely paid for.
And she’s smiling up at my boyfriend like he hung the fucking moon. Ben’s hands are on her hips and he’s talking to her. She laughs like he’s just said the funniest thing ever and braces her hand on his chest.
“Take a breath,” Lena says. “This is his job.”
“I’m okay,” I lie and walk into our classroom.
I’m so not okay. I’m jealous as fuck and even though it’s stupid, I can’t help it. His hands are on another woman and she’s freaking flirting with him. I’m not even in the same category as okay.
I’m pissed as hell, and the fact that this is his job doesn’t make me feel any better.
Thankfully, class starts right away. This is the best place to let go of some pent up aggression. We spend the next hour punching, kicking, and sparring and when we’re done, I’m dripping in sweat.
“I’m glad I wasn’t your sparring partner,” Lena says as we get ready to leave. “You kicked her ass.”
“She’s fine,” I reply.
“Do you feel any better?”
“No.” I glance around to see if Ben’s around, and he’s just saying goodbye to the hooker he was teaching while I was in class. “I know I said that I’d catch a ride home with Ben, but would you mind dropping me off?”
“Not at all,” Lena replies. “Let’s go.”
“Van.” Ben calls out to me, but I act like I don’t hear him and don’t turn around. Instead, I hurry to Lena’s car and jump in. Ben walks out after us, and our eyes lock for a moment, but Lena takes off before he can open my door.
“He looks pissed,” Lena says.
“I don’t care. I’m pissed. And I also don’t care that it’s stupid to be pissed because this is his job and blah blah blah. Fuck that. His hands were all over that woman, and I don’t like it.”
“I can tell,” Lena says. “And frankly, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t like it either.”
“See? Good. I haven’t been jealous in years. I can’t even remember the last time, but all I can see is green right now. I want to punch that chick in the throat.”
“Hey, he’s your man and she touched him. That’s a perfectly normal response.”
“You’re a good friend,” I reply as she pulls into my driveway. “I can see why Mallory loves you so much, and I’m glad that you’re part of our little circle now.”
“Thanks.” She smiles and waves as I walk to the front door. She waits for me to get inside safely before she drives away.
I have too much energy. I pick up my mail and thumb through the envelopes, but I don’t really see any of it and I toss it all on the coffee table in my living room and then decide that although I just had an amazing workout, I’m not done.
I want to run.
And those who know me well know that running is not my thing.
But I don’t know how to get rid of this energy without breaking stuff. So I take off down my street. I know which streets to stick to, and which areas are a bit shady. I’m not in good enough running shape to go far anyway.
Am I being stupid? I mean, she was a client. And the fact that she was flirting with him isn’t really Ben’s fault. And, he wasn’t touching her inappropriately. My instructor touches me the same way all the damn time. But the difference is, she’s a woman and not some dude that I would like to climb like an oak tree.
I circle around the corner of my block and run smack dab into a hard chest. Ben’s arms wrap around me so I don’t fall, and I immediately step out of his hold.
“What’s going on, Van?”
“I went for a run,” I reply and keep running back to my house, just three doors down. I don’t look back, but I can hear him jogging behind me. He’s not even breathing hard when we get to my front door, and I’ll admit that the black T-shirt he’s wearing does amazing things to his arms.
Those tattoos get me every damn time.
But right now, I’m pissed.
“Talk to me.” Ben follows me inside and gently closes the door behind us. He’s cool as the proverbial cucumber and I’m ready to come out of my skin.
“I didn’t say there was anything to talk about.”
“Stop it.” My eyes whip up to his, and although he’s calm, his eyes are annoyed.
Good. We can be annoyed together.
“Please tell me why you’re mad at me.”
“I don’t know if mad is a good word for it,” I reply and wander back to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
“What word would you use?”
“Pissed. Irritated. Irate.” I shrug and twist the cap off, chugging the water.
“Why?”
I shrug a shoulder, and that’s about all Ben can take of me. He crossed his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, watching me.
“We can do this all night,” he says.
“No, we can’t because I’m asking you to leave.”
Pain moves through his eyes now, and I feel like a grade A shit.
“I’m not leaving.”
I cock a brow. “Fine. Stay. I’ll leave.”
“Enough.” He grips my shoulders tightly in his hands and holds me in front of him. “What the fuck is going on, Savannah?”
“That woman had her hands on you!” I jerk out of his hold but I stay where I am and confront him. “And you had your hands on her. And it fucking pissed me off.”
“The client?”
“If the client is a cute little twenty-something blonde with big tits, then yes. The client.”
Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6)
Kristen Proby's books
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