Page 13 of Unrivaled Love (D.C. Renegades #2)
Bryson
Cabinet Cooler with the Save
I'm reading on the sofa when Jo comes back inside through the front door. She darts down to the basement right away and a little part of me wishes she'd want to speak to me.
It's freaking quiet out here alone.
We don't have to be friends, but we could talk.
I'm distracted from my lady dragon book now that Jo is inside and honestly, the author introduced so many new characters and places in the world she created I'm having trouble following it all anyway.
I slide my bookmark into place and set the book on the coffee table.
"Ah ha!" Jo yells from the basement and I stand. She comes bounding up the stairs and I watch with amusement as she moves quickly through the maze to the fridge.
With a satisfied smile on her lips, she brings something up to her chest and starts spinning it between her fingers.
Does she have a rubix cube?
Then she falls to her knees and I lose sight of her because of the island. I move closer without entering the maze to watch what she’s doing. "Are you using nail clippers?" I ask, impressed with her inventiveness.
"Baby ones. Al must have left them in the bathroom down there." She says as she works.
She gets a slice open and then she tries to rip it but I've got too many layers so she keeps clipping away.
This is Jo at her finest. She might not agree but I see her determination, her dedication, and her drive in each miniscule pinch of her fingers.
She's pure concentration as she rises and continues cutting.
I can sense her excitement as she reaches the final few inches.
She's standing taller. She's proud of herself.
I almost hate what's about to happen.
"Finally." She mutters as she rips away the last of the wrapping and tosses the clippers on the counter.
I hold back a giggle as she opens the fridge.
She’s going to be so miffed.
Her eyes scan the entire thing before she turns and narrows them at me.
“Where the fuck is my food, Bryson?” She growls.
I bite my tongue to keep my smile contained and only shrug.
With the grace of a panther she keeps her eyes on me and stalks through the yarn until she rises to her full height in front of me and we’re nose to nose.
“Where, the fuck , is my food?” She asks again, slowly, quietly. Chills race down my back.
“It’s not in the fridge?” I squeak out as I try to trap my laugh in my throat.
“Bryson, I swear to god, I will lose my shit if I don’t get something to eat in the next three minutes.”
“What are you gonna do, Jo?” I taunt because while we’re the same height I’ve got some muscle on her and I’m used to slamming men a lot bigger than me into boards to dig out the puck.
My knees do feel a little compromised by her proximity though.
Her eyes haven’t changed. They’re still green with an amber rim that reminds me of the sun over the trees.
Although I’m not getting a quiet morning, birds chirping, vibe from her right now.
It’s more like the sun has scorched the earth and your efforts to save the vegetation are futile .
Her breath hits my face as she exhales like a bull ready to buck its cowboy. Maybe taking her food was too far.
“Okay, okay, easy Killer.” I tell her as I take a step back and break the tension coiling between us. “Hold on.”
I walk over to the cabinet along the back wall under the TV and slide the cooler out. It took longer than I thought it would to get the cooler to fit in here nicely. She follows me slowly and stands with her hands on her hips as I open the lid.
“What can I getchu?” I ask, pretending she isn’t ready to rip my head off.
“Move.” She grumbles and she kneels down to dig through for her food.
She pulls out a yogurt and the bag of hard boiled eggs.
She stands and carries them back to the kitchen where she steps through the yarn to get a plate, spoon, and dump some almonds from a bag she found in the cabinet onto the plate with the egg.
It’s a high protein meal with good fats. I know she trains hard and if this is how she’s been eating, I understand the muscle she’s built.
Now that she’s across the room I’m able to process what it felt like to have her so close to me. She’s like a heat source and I want the warmth back.
Even if it’s more like a flaming trail of gunpowder than a weighted blanket.
She didn’t always hate me though. When we were kids we were friends.
Inseparable even. In this very house, we’d snuggle on the giant sofa in the basement watching movies with our siblings.
And then one time I got the chance to do more than cuddle with her.
It was the best night of my life and even as I lived it, I knew it would change the trajectory of my life forever.
And it did, but not in the way I’d dreamed.
I’ve just been standing over here watching her, lost in my daydreams. She finishes eating and after she cleans up she plants her hands on the counter and lifts her head to look at me.
“Why are you here, Bryson?” Her question warps me back to the present.
“It’s my families’ house too.” I reply. We’re in the middle of a prank war, I can’t open myself up and tell her I’m here because I feel lost, unmotivated, and don’t know what to do with my life.
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Why are you here, Jo?”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
“Jesus,” she grumbles. “You’re impossible.”
And with that she pivots, bobs and weaves through the yarn, and heads down to the basement.
I shrug and take my book out to the patio. I might not understand Jo and her reason for being here but I can sit back and enjoy characters battling for their lives and falling in love.
I am literally on the edge of my seat four pages later because the main character, Flora, had to falsely admit to murdering her lover, who disappeared in an earlier chapter, in order to save herself from this warlord, Sigrun, with a sword to her throat.
She didn’t realize he was out to murder her too because just a few chapters ago he sat back while she rode his dick and I honestly thought they would be getting together.
Him taking her captive is a total surprise and right now she’s trying to figure out if she can distract him enough to get some room from his blade.
Riiiiiiiing!
“Fuck!” I yell as I toss my book in the air. It claps shut as it hits the ground and my phone lets out a siren again. “Jesus, what is it?” I ask as I answer Crosby’s call.
“Sorry man.” He sounds quiet. “I ugh, I tried to call Dunc but he didn’t answer. ”
“No problem, what’s going on?” I clutch the phone between my shoulder and ear as I slide my bookmark into place. I step inside to toss it on the counter and then head back out to talk to Crosby.
“It just hit out of nowhere today.”
“Are you in a safe spot?”
“Yeah yeah, I’m at home. It just felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
“I get it. Can you get a glass of water?”
“Yeah.” He agrees quietly and I can pick up sounds of his movement in the background. I stay quiet as he pours himself a drink and takes it. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Crosby is prone to anxiety attacks.
During the season the daily exercise helps, and he carries sour candies around to help his brain focus on the taste instead of the anxious thoughts.
And he’s the first one to pull out the smelling salts on the bench.
“No idea what triggered it today?” I ask after I hear him take another sip.
“I think it’s just the general tension of this off-season. Have you felt like this summer is different?”
“It’s way different, man. One, it’s shorter by like a fucking month because we had to be so good we kept playing.
” He laughs and I smile. “And all the appearances have been tough. I know I struggled with them.” I pause.
I didn’t want to admit to the guys I couldn’t hack it but Crosby will understand. “That's why I left and came out here.”
“How’s that going by the way?” Crosby asks and I’m glad he seems to have moved past the worst of it.
“Good. The yarn was awesome, although it’s getting a little annoying now. And then she retaliated by stringing my clothes up into the rafters using a fishing pole.”
“Genius.”
“Yeah, it’s been quiet this afternoon. Although I did put koolaid in her shower head and switched her shampoo for ketchup.” I look up at the house over my shoulder from where I’ve walked down the trail. “Actually, she might be dealing with all that right now.”
“Well at least you’re having fun out there.” Crosby offers and I chuckle. Yeah, I am having fun. Sure we’re not friends like we used to be but hanging out with Jo, even if it’s in the moments when she’s reacting to pranks or turning them on me, has been comforting.
I continue down the trail and chat with Crosby about his plans for the rest of the day. I take the long way back and enjoy stretching my legs. And when the house comes back into view I steel myself for whatever Jo has been able to cook up over the last hour.