Reckless Heat

  “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t want any.”

  “Oh, come on,” he pressed. “It does wonders in the bedroom too. I’ve seen the way you and your girl have been looking at each other all night. Don’t you wanna rock her world?”

  I wanted to tell him that I didn’t need a fucking pill to please my woman, but his words hit somewhere deep inside of me that wanted to go further than before. To make her wonder what the hell had gotten into me, and to remember that night for the rest of her life.

  To make it so that she’d never want to leave, no matter what Boston had to offer.

  But was it worth this? Taking drugs in a crappy Florida bar bathroom?

  17

  Jinx

  My insides were practically on fire. Each step made me conscious of how wet I was, how much I’d been anticipating getting back to our hotel and finishing what we’d started under the bleachers.

  Drew led me along by the hand, casting a devious grin back at me as we reached the door.

  I was still a little annoyed that he’d been so reckless in his act today. I didn’t want to be upset at him over it since it was his life and his career, but I didn’t like that he hadn’t told me. I shouldn’t be the last one to know when my boyfriend was about to do something dangerous. I should be the first.

  But I wasn’t going to push it. He’d gotten an offer of representation from someone who seemed to think Drew could go all the way in Hollywood, and that was huge. I just hoped that he would think twice before keeping me in the dark next time. I hoped even more that there wasn’t a next time – that seeing Drew perform that stunt was the most scared he would ever make me.

  “You look fucking delicious,” Drew growled, slamming the door behind him.

  I smiled coquettishly. “Give me one minute, and then you can devour me whole if you want.”

  The look he gave me as I turned toward the bathroom made me wonder if he would even let me get that far. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I grabbed the little parcel from where I’d hidden it under the sink and unwrapped my surprise.

  I’d never worn lingerie for Drew, so I’d gone all out when buying this set. Lace garters, thigh high stockings, and a bustier that made my tits look phenomenal. And all of it was fire engine red. My best color.

  My core ached just thinking about what his reaction would be. Would he tear it all off me or would he want to fuck me while I was wearing it? Just pull the crotch aside and shove into me so hard and fast that it would hurt so good. Or would he slowly peel it away like he was unwrapping a present? Take his time to do what I’d said and taste every inch of me.

  I liked the slow peeling idea, and I decided I wouldn’t give him a choice. I’d also never stripped for Drew, so why not kill two birds with one stone?

  After refreshing my hair and makeup, and ensuring that all the straps and other bits in pieces were in the right place, I took one final look at myself in the mirror. I looked sexy. I didn’t tend to think of myself that way, but I knew right then that I was. And that Drew would think I was too.

  Back in the room, Drew was in bed. It was dark, save for the backlighting from the cracked bathroom door. Perfect. I could barely see his face as I started caressing my breasts, but I knew he’d be grinning in that way he did whenever he got exactly what he wanted. It was practically his trademark expression.

  I slowly turned and began swaying my hips, bending at the waist so he could get a better view. Drew was quiet. Why was he so quiet? I figured he would have said something by now, or at least I would have heard him make some sort of guttural groan.

  I was starting to get self-conscious as I turned toward the bed.

  I still couldn’t quite make it out. He was slumped against the pillows in a way that didn’t exactly scream I’m aroused. That was probably the most concerning part of the whole thing.

  “Drew?”

  Silence.

  “Drew?” I took a step forward.

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move.

  18

  Jinx

  I rushed over to the bed, reaching out for his hand. He was warm, but his eyes were closed, and his breathing was faint. Had he just fallen asleep? Oh god, I hoped he had just fallen asleep. It might’ve been a little embarrassing for us both, but we could laugh about it and then get back on with our lives.

  But I knew the second I touched him that he wasn’t asleep. Drew never slept quite so soundly, so quietly.

  And he wouldn’t wake up.

  “Drew!” I shook him.

  He didn’t stir, and his breathing pattern didn’t change. Now I was really starting to panic.

  I ran over to the phone and immediately dialed 9-1-1. My shaking fingers kept slipping off the buttons, but I somehow managed it. After holding back tears and explaining to the operator what was happening, I ran back to the bathroom and tugged my clothes back on over the lingerie. Then I was back at Drew’s side, holding his hand and begging for him to wake up. I knew he couldn’t hear me, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  “Please be okay,” I pleaded. “Please, Drew. Please.”

  I had a theory that all the waiting rooms in all the world had been designed on the same model. Every time you went into one, it was the same smell, the same weary faces, and the same muted tones coating the walls. And the chairs were always so damn uncomfortable.

  But that was the least of my worries. If anything, the pain in my back from sitting on the chair for so long was a welcome distraction from the pain of wondering what was happening to Drew right now. Was he okay? Was he getting worse? What if something was seriously wrong with him? What if I didn’t get to say goodbye? What would I tell his family?

  All these thoughts swam around my head, and I could barely see through them. Could barely breathe through them.

  I didn’t know if I was supposed to call anyone or if Drew would want me not to. If he didn’t want to worry me with his stunt, then I knew he wouldn’t want to worry his family with whatever was going on now, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t though. I’d spent the past hour having this silent debate in my head.

  I’d never been so relieved to see a doctor before in my life than when Dr. Bernard came out and told me Drew was awake. I knew she was sketching around the edges of what she was actually allowed to tell me, and I let my gratitude show on my face.

  “He wants to see you,” she said. “I want to run some more tests, but he’s refused to do anything until I got you.”

  My heart started pounding in my chest after what felt like forever of being aching and still. I practically sprinted to her. “Thank you so much for coming to get me.”

  She snorted, as if to say, Like I had a choice.

  If Drew was being cantankerous, that could only be a good sign.

  I stepped into the room and immediately rushed to Drew’s side. He seemed to take up more of the bed than I thought possible, all muscle and long limbs. I’d expected him to look so much more vulnerable in there than I’d ever seen him. Instead, he looked just as strong and rugged as he had earlier today.

  “Hey baby,” he greeted, pulling me in for a kiss.

  When I pulled back, I searched his eyes. Why was he acting like we weren’t in a hospital, like I hadn’t had to watch paramedics load his unconscious body onto a gurney and into the back of an ambulance?

  Before I could ask, the doctor grabbed the chart from the bottom of his bed and looked over it. “I’ll be right back,” she announced.

  Only when she was gone did Drew’s expression falter. For the first time, he looked nervous.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Nobody’s told me anything, and you look suddenly very worried.”

  His brow wrinkled. He took my hand and squeezed it, then pressed the back of it to his lips. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he said. “And I’m so fucking sorry for all this.”

  “Baby, it’s okay.” I took his face in my free hand and stroked my thumb along his cheek. “It’s not your fault.??
?

  He squeezed again, then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they held a deeper quality to them. Something I hadn’t seen before. His voice was low and hoarse as he spoke, “It is my fault, actually.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I...Jackson and I took something before we left the bar,” he explained. “I’d never taken amphetamine before. I didn’t know it would do this to me.”

  Surprise rippled through me, and it took everything in me not to slap him where he sat. Instead, I lowered myself onto the bed next to him and was so stunned that I didn’t resist as he tugged me against his side. I was so happy and relieved that he was okay that it didn’t seem urgent to chastise him for his illicit drug use. And I wasn’t entirely sure it was my place to say anything. We hadn’t been together that long.

  All the same, I couldn’t help but mutter, “Fucking idiot.”

  He chuckled, chest rumbling, relief on his face.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay,” I told him. “I was really worried. They couldn’t...they couldn’t get you to wake up.” My voice cracked, and I buried my face in the starched cotton of his gown.

  He didn’t smell like Drew. He smelled like hospital. The fact that I couldn’t even take comfort in something as simple as his scent was the last straw. The tears that I’d been holding back finally spilled over. I didn’t care that Drew had never seen me cry, or that the doctor could come back in at any time. Like a cracked floodgate, it all came out at once. Drew held me as I shook, stroking my back while whispering gentle reassurances in my ear, promising to never do something so stupid again.

  Something changed between us in that moment. We grew deeper, closer. And, at least for me, there was something very intimate about the space in which we found ourselves. I’d been so scared to lose him. So damn scared. I had him back now, but it was the first time our relationship had ever suffered a thorn. Now it was up to us to pluck that thorn out and make sure it healed over. I just hoped that it would be stronger when it did.

  19

  Drew

  Something about nearly dying changed your perspective on things. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been that close to dying, but there was nothing quite like drifting out of consciousness with the thought “this wasn’t supposed to happen” searing the backs of your eyelids.

  Or having a woman cry over me for something I could have easily prevented just by not being an ass.

  It was something I’d never forget.

  Doing dangerous stunts meant that I was faced with the possibility of death often. I stared the grim reaper in his shadow-covered face more times than I could count, and I always grinned at him and dared him to try.

  But I’d never experienced what I could only describe as a complete loss of myself. I’d always loved to take risks, but even the craziest of them had always had a point. Yes, I loved the thrills I got when I did a dangerous stunt, but I’d turned them into a career. Dares or pranks growing up had been to make people laugh or to prove something to myself.

  Taking those drugs had just been stupid.

  And pointless. I’d given in to peer pressure like some idiotic teenager, and I felt like a moron.

  I knew that Jinx noticed the change in me. Now that we were back home, I just wanted to get back to normal, but I could tell she was worried. I didn’t know if it was concern that I had some sort of drug problem, or that she had questions about whether or not I should be riding again.

  I didn’t know how to tell her that, if anything, I was more motivated than ever to perform. I was anxious for death and me to get back into our corners so we could duke things out the right way. Not with me listening to the beat of my heart grow fainter and fainter, my skin cold and clammy. The right way was me flying through the air, knowing that if I didn’t do things perfectly, I’d end up on a slab. And I always did things perfectly. That’s what made me the best.

  The throbbing behind my temples started up again. I let out an involuntary groan, more from frustration than pain. I could handle pain, but headaches were the worst because they messed with my concentration.

  “What is it?” Jinx straightened, eyes narrowing as she looked at me.

  She was sprawled over my legs on the couch, fingers tracing lazy circles on my arm. We’d been watching a movie. I couldn’t remember which one since I’d been lost in my thoughts, but I cared more about spending time with her than being entertained anyway.

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  She frowned, clearly not believing me. After the shit I’d pulled with those drugs, I really couldn’t blame her either.

  Still, what could I tell her? That since I’d woken up in that hospital bed three days ago, I’d been having recurring headaches? She’d stress herself out over something that was probably nothing.

  Except, the longer things went on and the worse the headaches got, I was beginning to wonder if it might be something after all. I couldn’t bring myself to find out though. I wasn’t ready to face the possibility that my career could be over before it’d really begun.

  “I know you don’t like talking about what happened, but I think it would be helpful if you did. You’re clearly stressed out about something, and I don’t think it’s whether Harry and Sally get together in the end.”

  “It’s a romantic comedy,” I remarked dryly. “If they didn’t get together in the end, it would be a shocking and rather exciting twist.”

  Those gorgeous lips of hers twisted into a partial scowl as she pressed on. “You wanna know what I think about what happened?”

  I could tell she’d been holding on to this for a while, probably since the moment I’d told her what I’d done. She hadn’t said anything up until now because she’d been waiting for me to bring it up, but she must have finally decided that she’d waited long enough.

  “I think you’re about to tell me,” I said and shot her a crooked grin, so she knew that I was being playful, not mean.

  “I think you feel guilty and ashamed, and it’s making you recede into the little bubble of yourself that you keep around for when things become too much to handle.”

  She certainly knew how to drive a point. Too bad it was the wrong one.

  “That’s not it,” I said, losing the light tone I’d had before.

  She leaned closer, expression intense. “Then tell me what it is, Drew. It’s been driving me crazy not knowing how to help you.”

  “I don’t need help!” I snapped the words at her without even thinking. I’d never snapped at Jinx before, and I hated that I’d done it now, but I was too annoyed to apologize.

  She slowly rolled up off my lap and moved to the other side of the couch, pressing her hands into the seat. “Okay,” she said quietly. “If you don’t want to talk, fine.”

  Then she slipped off the sofa and out of the living room, quiet as a mouse slinking away from a cat.

  As she disappeared, guilt and shame slapped me in the face. Shit. I scrubbed a hand over my face. She was the last person I wanted to treat like that.

  The angry pulse behind my eyes grew even more insistent in her absence. For a moment, my vision blurred. I blinked furiously, though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I’d tried it more than once over the past few days to no avail.

  That was perhaps the most worrying carryover from my little accident. I didn’t know how long the episodes of blurred vision would continue since the doctor hadn’t told me it was something to expect. And what if it happened while I was riding? It never lasted long, but even a couple seconds could be enough to throw me off.

  Enough to kill me.

  My eyes reset, and I let out a long sigh. I had to go make things right with Jinx. It wasn’t fair for me to punish her for something that was in no way her fault. I’d done this, and the fact that I still had side effects was all on me.

  I turned off the TV and strode into the bedroom. Jinx was in bed, reading one of those crazy thick true crime books she loved so much.

  Despite the circumstances, it str
uck me how domestic the scene was, and how much I liked seeing her in my bed, reading. Relaxed. It wasn’t anything I’d ever expected. Not to see it, and certainly not to like it.

  She put the book down when I walked in, studying me with a wary expression. Things between us had moved so fast that I wouldn’t have blamed her if she was second-guessing all of it right now.

  “I want to apologize,” I said.

  She set the book on the bedside table and patted the spot on the bed next to her. I immediately settled in it, leaning back against the headboard, arms tossed casually over my knees.

  “Things haven’t been quite as normal for me as I’ve let on.” I rolled my head to the side and looked down at her. “I’ve been having some problems with headaches.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “What? What kind of headaches? How often? Why didn’t you say something?”

  I held up a hand to slow her questions. “The reason I didn’t tell you is because I knew you’d start worrying and end up making yourself sick or something.” Gently rocking her shoulders toward me, I pulled her down and cradled her against my chest. She fit there so perfectly. “I don’t want you to suffer just because I made a dumb mistake.”

  “That’s what I’m here for though,” she murmured against the cotton of my shirt. “Scary, dangerous job, dumb mistakes, and all that. It’s what I signed up for.”

  “But it doesn’t seem fair.”

  Her light laugh floated up to my ears and my stomach twisted. If sunlight made a noise, it would be Jinx’s laugh, I decided.

  “The concept of fair and not fair doesn’t even factor in here,” she said. “You’re my man. I want all of you. The good parts and the bad parts and especially the worrying parts.” She poked at my stomach. “Because if I don’t worry about you, I know you won’t worry about yourself. So, I like knowing these things. Cause then I don’t have to worry about all the things I don’t know.”