Chapter Seven (Mirror, Mirror)

Missy was cleaning up, wiping the counters down in the gym when Jax made his way into the main area for a little light workout. She watched him set up the bar for curls, putting the weights on to the degree she'd recommended and a little smile came to her lips. He was in great shape - not just for 'a man his age' but overall, and his knee seemed to be better despite some of the rougher matches he'd had. It was a good thing, she thought, and not just because that was what he'd hired her for. He didn't seem to realize she was there so she just indulged herself watching and her smile grew as he got into the rhythm of the reps. Jesus Christ he was fine. She felt that little flutter low in her belly that really didn't have anything to do with the sex they had - which was always fantastic, but something...else. She bit her lip, unguarded and sweet if she'd known, but of course she didn't. They said if a man did things that made you pause and bite your lip when you thought about it, that he was doing something right and Jax damn sure knew how to trip her trigger. She didn't even realize her hand had moved to rest there as she just looked at him, the smooth motions of the reps drawing her eye. Missy looked down though her attention was still on him, the idle motions of her hand as she wiped the counter having stilled and she thought about the other night when he'd taken her out. It had been the nicest little 'date' she'd ever been taken on, a great dinner with engaging conversation and after when he'd taken her hand and they'd snuck into the men's room for a quickie in the handicapped stall... holy shit. It had been hot because they could've gotten caught of course, but his hands had been everywhere and she swallowed thinking about how he'd been so fast and so wild with her.

She liked that about him, he just wasn't reserved when they were together and it was a part of why she always liked it. Her focus nowhere but him, thinking about nothing but how he felt inside her. It was glorious and freeing, to have that and she knew he knew... that little leer he'd get right before things got frisky told her that. He'd have known even if she hadn't told him that time they'd gotten drunk in that stupid little hotel room. Her cheeks flushed pink as she looked up at him, watching his back as he lifted. Damn. He'd likely laugh, if he saw that expression and she shook herself, taking a second for her hand to come up and fan her face. A soft sort of yearning rose in her, for the feel of him of course but there was just something a little extra there now. Missy sighed quietly, no idea that her heart was in her dark eyes. She really, really wanted to love him...wanted to tell him about this feeling he'd caused in her. She just wasn't sure how he'd react, especially after what he'd just gone through with that bitch wife of his...a tiny shake of her head followed that thought. She knew, he wasn't thinking he deserved to be loved, not after all the wrong choices and the results of those he'd endured. Why would he want that, especially with someone like her? Another little sigh as she looked down at herself, sure she had the rocking body he appreciated and he saw more in her than just some tatted up military brat, he'd made that clear. But still. Her jaw firmed as she looked back up at him, noticing he'd paused but figuring he was debating putting on more weights she didn't think more of it than that.

He really deserved to be loved, and maybe it wouldn't be easy because of all that bullshit he'd gone through. But was anything ever worth having just easy? Her little smile returned as he started lifting again and she finished up quietly before he noticed she was there...having no idea that he had a clear view of her in the wall of mirrors, and that he'd seen everything.



If she'd come over closer, she would have heard the tinny sounds of the music he was listening to through the noise-cancelling earbuds. No death metal. No Iron Maiden or Slipknot or vintage Metallica. No. He was listening to love songs, losing himself in the far more efficient routine she'd helped him come up with. A little less weight on the bars, more repetitions – simple enough to grasp, but his machismo had always won out in the end, that obsessive desire to push himself to the limit and beyond every time.

She doesn't know you can see her right now.

He kept moving through his reps, watching her sigh and bite her lip and it was like a knife twisting in his guts. It meant something else because it always did and he was so unbelievably off his game in reading people that he'd actually thought Uncensored was going to be a permanent thing. Miami was going to be his home base to wrestle and to live and now he was stuck with property he couldn't unload. A great big house by the water that was sitting there, completely empty. He wanted so badly to ask her if she wanted to go there, if she wanted to fill those empty rooms with the sound of her moans and that sarcastic laughter of hers but he'd bought it for someone else. He'd already fallen and it didn't matter that Missy was the rebound girl. The last five had chained that way, from one to the next and he only put rings on their fingers to buy more time until the inevitable letdown.

Don't tell her you love her. Don't do it.

He paused, watching her look down at herself with that wistful smile on her face, trying to tell himself that she was reliving what they'd been doing for most of the night.

God, she's so perfect. You tell her how you really feel and you're going to screw this up completely, you know that, don't you? Keep your stupid mouth shut.

The voice in his head sounded too much like his father's today, sparking that sort of rebellious anger that usually defined his dumbest decisions. He bit his lip, resisting the urge to call out to her, flinching and going back to the curls when she looked back up. He kept his eyes downcast for the next few minutes, trying to keep everything else working the way it was supposed to even though his heart was racing. When he looked up again, finally back firmly in control, she was gone. He stopped, leaning forward and putting his face in his shaking hands.

She deserves to be loved by someone normal, someone who can give and receive, not some broken moron who overcompensates for every inadequacy by throwing money around. This gym. The apartment. What are you going to give her next? A car? That stupid house you bought for Alyvia? A private jet so you can fuck all the way to Baltimore and back? You're just a passing fad. Sure, she likes you and what's not to like when you're giving the girl a million orgasms? Kincade's right. She'll move on the moment you get hurt bad enough that retirement's the only option. Nobody loves you, Bradley. You're garbage, a disappointment to everyone around you-

"Stop it," he muttered, letting his hands fall away, feeling the vice-grip of that tension headache starting back up at the base of his neck. Pushing to his feet, he got up and looked at the clock. Half an hour until they were scheduled to open – might as well do it early. Grabbing a rag and a bottle of disinfectant, he started to clean the bench he'd been using, losing himself in the motions because that was far easier than listening to any further commentary from that hectoring voice in his head continually tearing him down. He caught sight of movement in the mirror and lifted his head, locking eyes with her as she made her way down the stairs that led to the office and the yoga studio on the upper level. "Hey," he said softly, a little catch in his voice before he broke eye contact, cocking his head towards the door. "Close enough... you wanna do the honors?"

She heard that little catch but she didn't show that she had, other than looking at him a little more directly than maybe she wanted to after how she'd been gawking at him when he didn't know earlier. Missy let a hint of her smile tug her lips up at the corners, not quite so wry and defensive as usual, almost unguarded. "Sure thing, Boss. Anything you want."

Anything doesn't mean that but two out of three ain't bad...