Page 43 of Hung Up
Glancing around, I spot Faith off to the side of the chute, her eyes the size of saucers and her hand over her heart. The sight of her brings a wave of calm rushing over me, allowing my brain to slow down as my ears finally register the roaring around me. I glance up at the scoreboard, a little disappointed with my score, but I know I’ll still be in the top three despite it. I’m just happy to be standing.
I make my way toward the chute and climb the bars, swinging my legs over and jumping onto the cement directly before Faith. She looks absolutely terrified, and it takes everything in my power not to reach out and comfort her. I try to give her my best reassuring smile, but it doesn’t seem to convince her.
“I’d love to finish that interview,” I tell her, hoping she’ll read between the lines.
“Of course,” she tells me with a nod of her head, but her voice is shaky. “Media room?”
I extend an arm out, letting her know to walk ahead of me and lead the way. As we make our way to the media room, I notice her hands trembling at her sides, and that makes my heart constrict.
Was she really that worried about me?
Stopping outside the media room, she glances through the tiny window before opening the door. The second we’re bothinside, I close it behind us, pulling the blind over the window. She startles slightly as I approach her slowly, deliberately backing her up against the table. When the back of her legs hit the wood and her hands steady herself, I cage her in, my hands on either side of her as I dip my head close enough to hers so our noses are touching.
“Tell me, Sweetheart,” I whisper against her lips, fighting back a smile at the way I hear her breath hitch. “Were you worried about me?”
She swallows audibly. “Don’t flatter yourself, Pretty Boy. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Say that to me again.” I close the gap between our lips and grab her bottom one between my teeth, nipping lightly. “Only mean it this time.”
“You’re not that special.”
I capture her lips with mine, reveling in the way she immediately kisses me back. She brings her hands up to loop around my neck and digs them into my hair, not only causing my hat to fall off my head but drawing a guttural moan from my throat. She sighs as she angles her head to deepen the kiss, but before I can lose myself to her completely and take her right here on this table—which I will do at some point, you can count on that—I break apart and focus my attention on her neck.
“Tell me, Sweetheart,” I start again, her head falling to the side as I nip and kiss my way slowly up to her ear. “Who was that you were arguing with?”
“What?” she whispers, completely lost to the way I’m sucking gently on that sweet spot just behind her ear.
“That man you were talking to.” I pull back just enough to look at her. She peels her eyes open to stare at me, and I have to stop myself from smiling at the glazed look I find there. “Who is he?”
Faith studies me for a moment, and I’m shocked as I watch that glazed look replaced with an angry one. “He’s just a coworker.”
Bullshit.
“And what were you arguing about?” I push, letting my hands run up the side of her thighs, slowly working their way toward her core.
“It’s none of your damn business,” she snaps, her hands falling to my shoulders like she’s going to push me away.
I waste no time as I reconnect our lips, wanting to distract her and stop her from walking away from me. After a few seconds, she goes pliant under my fingers and starts to kiss me back, albeit a little hesitantly, so I murmur between our kisses, “I was scared.”
“You were scared,” she repeats before she breaks the kiss, her hands cupping my face as she studies me, my words registering. “You were scared?”
“Of course.” I nod with a shrug as I try to play it off. “Laying on the ground as you watch a two-thousand-pound bull come barreling toward you? That’s how riders have died.”
She looks like she’s about to say something when we hear the door handle rattle.Thank god I locked it, I wasn't sure if I did. I’m about to start kissing her again, maybe go down on her while I have her alone, when I hear that voice I still don’t have a name for.
“Faith? Why’d you lock the door? Let me in.”
She looks panicked as she shoves me away and I stumble a couple steps backward. She’s scanning the room as he tries the handle again and knocks.
“Quick, get in that closet,” Faith whispers as she points to a small closet that would struggle to fit a small child.
“Are you kidding me?” I whisper back, putting my hands on my hips. “Just say we were finishing up our interview, what’s the big deal?”
She’s in front of me, pushing me as I walk backward toward a different door. “The bathroom, then. Please, Jesse, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Please.” The broken plea breaks me down instantly, and I can’t stop my groan.
