Page 16 of Rush
“How much time do you need. A week? Two?”
“Yeah, about that, I suppose.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
Rising to his feet, he held out his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go pack up your shit. You’re going to stay with me until you find a place.”
“Ryan…” I stared at his hand, then at his face, then at his hand again. “I—”
“Shut it for once in your life, Jade,” he snapped. “You don’t need room service, you need a friend.” He shoved his hand further across the table. “C’mon.”
I was completely shell-shocked, and it took me a full minute for his words to sink in. Stay with Ryan? At his place?Ryan Harper?It felt daring, dangerous, and completely fucking nuts…and totally something I would do.
Shoving to my feet, I slipped my hand into his. “Then let’s go pack up my shit.”
6
Ryan
“Tellme why we’re here again?”
I glanced down at Jade and smirked. She’d been complaining since the moment she’d gotten up, all through breakfast?, and all the way to Pulse. She was definitely not a morning person. ?????
“I told you,” I replied, nudging her toward the doors. “You need new people in your life.”
“But why does it have to involve six a.m.??” ?????
“Free rent.”
Her shoulders sagged, and she shuffled forward, her trainers scraping across the concrete, her rolled-up yoga mat dangling behind her. Despite myself, I glanced down at her ass, which was clad in a thin layer of Lycra. I didn’t need an imagination to know what was underneath, and I resisted the urge to rearrange my cock. She was about to go inside and get all flexible, after all.
Shit. What had I gotten myself into?
Yesterday, I’d gone with her to the hotel she was holed up in, helped her pack her things, and brought her back to my place in Richmond.
To say I was nervous for her to see the four walls I called home was an understatement. I was a minimalist, but it was more from never having money to throw around on frivolous shit than the desire to own a bunch of stuff. The sentiment was still true because now that I could afford it, there was nothing I wanted unless it was essential to my survival in the asshole-ish, first world kind of way. Like a microwave. Or a blender.
Basic essentials,check. Fancy floor rug,what the fuck did I need that shit for?
I lived alone in a renovated apartment building just off Church Street—which was pretty much a straight shot up to Pulse by tram—the top floor, one-bedroom palace was more than I’d ever had in my entire life. Stainless steel appliances and underfloor heating weren’t things I thought I would ever have in my lifetime, yet there I was.
When Jade had stepped across the threshold, I’d expected her to turn her nose up at my attempt at keeping a home, but she didn’t have anything to say about it. Instead, she went straight to the fridge, opened it, and grunted when she saw the contents. A bottle of tomato sauce that was past its expiration date, two eggs, half a head of lettuce, and a rotten tomato.
When I offered to sleep on the couch so she could take my bed, she’d declined. Jade camping out on cheap Ikea furniture. Never thought I would see the day, but there she was, her overflowing suitcase jammed against the wall, her makeup case beside the basin in my bathroom, and her shoes—all ten pairs with fancy designer names inside them—lined up by the door.
Following her into Pulse Fitness, I swiped my security tag at the inner door and let us inside.
“So how much time do you spend here?” Jade asked, looking around. “That woman yesterday—”
“Lori.”
“Lori… She said you trained six days a week. That seems like a lot. Is it a lot?”
“Yeah, six days.” I grinned, kind of happy she was showing an interest in what I did. “I come in at seven and usually leave by three.”
“Eight hours, six days a week?” Her mouth fell open. “What do you do all day?”
I shrugged. “Weights, cardio, skills.”
“Do you fight?”
