Page 77 of Ruled Out

Chances are, Jessie is heading straight to Riley’s after tonight’s win, but there’s also a chance he isn’t. I look down at the key he gave me, but never asked to have back …

Fuck it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MIA

“Jessie?”

I’m greeted with the faint noise of music, but no one is in sight when I pocket Jessie’s key and pull off my boots, hanging my jacket on the back of the door and leaving my bag next to the console table.

“Jessie?” I call out again.

Heading down the hallway, I walk toward the increasing sound of rock music.

When I push open the heavy door to a room I’ve not yet seen, Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” fills my ears, and quickly, I realize this must be his home gym.

Holyhell.

Here I was, thinking the only secrets Jessie kept from me were about his past. But I was happily wrong.

It takes a moment for Jessie to register I’m watching, and I seize every single second as I admire him jump-rope expertly. I have zero idea what move he’s pulling off, but when he crosseshis arms over his chest, twisting the rope around his body in the process, I’m certain it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

That and the black backward cap he’s wearing.

With his attention on the opposite mirror, Jessie comes to a grinding halt, sweat trickling down his bare torso and stopping at the waistband of his black workout shorts.

He spins around to face me, a smile pulling at his lips when I walk toward him. “Hey.”

“Don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show,” I say, coming to stand just in front of him.

Jessie switches the rope, holding it in his left hand as he takes me in from head to toe. “I wasn’t expecting to see my girl tonight.”

“What sort of girlfriend doesn’t stop by and congratulate her man on the best game of his life?”

“No girl of mine,” he replies, pulling out a small remote and turning down the music still beating through the surround sound speakers.

“I thought you’d be out celebrating,” I say, taking in his black high-top Converse.

Jesus, he looks hot.

He shrugs. “Had too much pent-up adrenaline. I normally pick up a drink to calm myself down when I get like that.” He steps toward me, his pupils blown. “But I’m working on myself, so I made my excuses and left.”

“I didn’t know you did this.” I nod at the rope still in his hand.

He looks down at it and smiles. “When my mind is racing, this is a way to occupy my thoughts. If I’m in a good headspace, I pick up a rope instead of a bottle.”

I look up at him and nod. “By the way you played tonight, I’d say you’re in a pretty good place right now.”

Jessie nods back, leaning down until our lips are almost touching. “Fucking right I am.”

In a matter of seconds, my back is against a mirror, and Jessie hovers over me, a bead of sweat running down the side of his neck. I watch as it travels down to the center of his chest and stops in a light dusting of blond hair.

Since I first noticed his tattoos, I’ve never asked about them, not wanting to push him too far if they were meaningful. But every time over the past week we’ve gotten naked together, the dove that decorates the skin over his heart has made me more curious.

I point to the black-and-white tattoo. “Does this mean hope?”

He holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger, nodding once. “Yeah, I’d say it’s my favorite of them all.” He casts his eyes down his torso. There must be at least fifteen different tattoos, some reaching around his ribs, but they all fit together perfectly.