Unleashed: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Part 10

"Well," he says, adjusting the difficulty on the bike. "You're here now, aren't you?"

Another bell dings, and Chance and I turn to watch the second round of the small tournament being held tonight.

"Do you get paid for this?"

"No," he says, eyes on the cage. "We set this up for Coach to help him raise some money and attract new students. Get the word out about MMA fight training, and physical training in general."

"You mean all of you?"

"Yeah. The guy who's fighting now?" Chance nods his head toward the cage. "The taller one? He came down all the way from Portland to spend a week training with Coach, and to do this fight."

"That's Marshall, right?" I ask, remembering the signage.

"Yeah. He's going to win this round, and then I'm going to face him."

"He's much taller than you," I say, frowning. Chance is a solid six-one or six-two, but this Marshall guy looks like he has a few inches over him.

"He's got reach, yes. But see his legs? See how long they are?"

Now that he mentions it, I notice it. Chance hops off the bike and stands next to me, panting. I can feel the heat from his body shooting into mine. "His center of gravity is high. That means he has less balance."

"So you'll try and take him down?"

"Yes," he tells me. "I know the way he fights, he likes to get close real fast, and that negates his reach. But with his high center, Judo would be a good way to counter him."

"Why Judo in particular?"

"It's a whole fighting art dedicated to getting your opponent on the mat," he tells me. "Not much striking involved."

My phone vibrates in my bag, and I pull it out. "s.h.i.+t, I have to go."

"Why?"

"Seems my dad wants to do a video chat with me over Skype tonight. He told me to call him as soon as I get this message."

"Just tell him you're busy."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "It could be important."

"If it was important, he'd call you."

"No, I have to go," I tell him. "He'll worry about me if I don't call back."

"I thought you were p.i.s.sed off at him for not being here for graduation?"

"I am," I tell him truthfully. "But he doesn't know I'm out of the house, and so he'll worry if I don't get online." I shrug, grin. "Fighting's pretty boring anyway."

"Stay. Break a rule. Be a little bad."

I look into Chance's hazel eyes, feel like he's testing me. "No," I tell him. "It'll just mean more trouble for me later."

"Fair enough. You take the bus here?"

"Yeah."

"Come on," Chance says. "I'll drive you."

"No, really, it's fine, you still got a fight."

"There's a twenty minute break before the final round. It's fine," he says, shaking his head. "Let me get changed. I'll meet you back here in a bit."

To his credit, he really does just drive me home. He doesn't try to rile me up or get under my skin. I feel comfortable in the car with him.

"Thanks," I say as he pulls to a stop and I get out.

"When's your dad getting back?"

"Not for a few days."

"You here all alone?"

"Well, me and the cat."

Chance nods slowly. Our eyes meet, and we share a smile. Only, his is infinitely more comfortable than mine.

I eye Chance for a moment. Sweat still drips down his neck. He still hasn't cooled down.

"You were pretty good, from what I saw tonight," I tell him.

"I'm good every night."

I don't reply to that, instead walk up the driveway and slip inside the front door.

When I open my laptop, I see three blinking notifications, three missed-video-calls from Dad, and sigh.

Chapter Twelve.

"I'm the last."

I look at Jess, my best friend. She's sitting at my computer table tapping away on chat. "What's that?" she asks, but she doesn't turn around to look at me.

"I'm the last of our group."

Now she turns, eyebrow c.o.c.ked, and a look of curiosity on her face. "Are you talking about s.e.x?"

"Yeah," I say. I break eye-contact with her. I am embarra.s.sed by it. I don't know why I should be a I'm nineteen, and it's not like that's too old a but I am.

"Babe," she says, wheeling the chair up to me and putting her hands on my knees. "Don't stress about it too much. It's not really a big deal."

"Isn't it?" I ask, scrunching up my brow. "What if I'm a twenty-eight year-old virgin when I finally get a boyfriend, and I have no idea what to do?"

"Honey," she says, pointing a finger at me. "Most guys don't know what to do. They think they do, but they don't."

"And what if he does?"

She pauses, pushes her lips together. I can see the cogs whirring in her mind. She's trying to figure out who I'm talking about. But she can't, and she won't. She'd never suspect it. It's been a few days since Chance and I were down at the beach...

"Are you going out with somebody?" she asks coyly, a tentative smile pulling at her lips.

I feel my ears grow red. "No, of course not."

"Ca.s.sie, you worry about things too much. Why are you such a worrier? Why can't you just be like normal people and not care about everything so much?"

"Normal people care about things, Jess."

"Wrong!" she chirps, wheeling the chair back around to the computer table. I can see that the plastic wheels are creating new scratches on the wooden tiles, but I don't really care.

"What do you mean 'wrong'?"

"You worry more than usual. Maybe you need to see a professional about that." She snorts, so I snort back louder.

"Right. Hey, look, I'm trying to talk to you about something here."

Now she turns around again, but this time she's not playing anymore, and I'm glad. Jess can be dismissive sometimes, but she does always seem to know when to stop kidding around.

"What's bothering you, Ca.s.sie? Why don't you just tell me?"

"I'm just... worried, that's all. I won't know what to do."

"Well, have you watched p.o.r.n?"

"Yeah," I say.

"Well, forget everything you saw," Jess says, raising a finger. "p.o.r.n is made for guys, and it's not how real s.e.x is. Real s.e.x is slower, more personal. It's not as loud a well, most of the time, I guess a and you're not expected to bend yourself into positions that look painful."

"I know all that," I say, shaking my head at her. "But I mean, like, okay, I'll be honest. Sometimes I worry about... you know... how to proceed. Like, is there a cue? How do you know when to move from one-"

"Oh, jeez, girl, it's not like that. It's not robotic."

"Well, can you tell me about your first time? Did it hurt?"

She pauses, looks up at the ceiling while she remembers. "No, not really. I mean, maybe at the beginning. We used lots of lubricant."

"And?"

She shrugs. "It was pretty good, actually." I can see a smile starting to form on her face, and it makes me feel at more of a disadvantage. I can talk circles around Jess when it comes to history or economics or even mathematics, but when she says it's 'good', I have no idea what she means.

I hate that.

"Well can you explain it?"

"It's just good, Ca.s.s. It feels good, you know? It wasn't his first time, and he knew to take it slow."

"Dave?"

"Yeah."

"Really?" I frown. "It wasn't his first time?" I can hardly believe it. I'm not about to say mean things about my best friend's boyfriend, but to me, Dave was definitely not a catch.

"No. That's what he said, anyway."

"Does that bother you?"

"It used to," Jess says. "When we first got together it did. But then I realized there was no point in being jealous."

"So, can you tell me anything else? Like, did he go down on you?" The question just spills out of me, and before I know it I've got my hand on my mouth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I know it's personal-"

She nods. "He did."

"And?"

"And it was nice."

"Nice, good... don't you have better adjectives?"

"There's not really a word that describes it, Ca.s.s. Pleasurable, yeah. But also nice. The most important thing is that you are comfortable. If you're not, then how can you expect to enjoy it? It's the same with everything. Don't worry about what to do, don't treat it like a checklist. It's not. Just do whatever. That's the beauty of it."

I sigh. "It's just... you know, overhearing the boys talking about it at school."

"Oh, f.u.c.k the boys," Jess snaps, before we meet eyes and start grinning and giggling. "Not like that, I mean f.u.c.k what they all said. Most of them are lying, anyway. So... are you thinking of, um-"

"No, don't be silly. I'm going to England soon, anyway. I'll be touring LSE's campus with my dad after he gets back from... Vegas. At least... that was the plan. I sure hope he remembers it."

"Well, you might meet an English boy."

"Shut up."

"I can't believe you got into LSE. I'm so jealous that you're practically going to be living in London!"

I can't help myself. I laugh. She's absolutely right. It is exciting. I can't believe it myself. Living in London!