I recalled what I’d told his trainer moments ago.“I can assure you there is nothing going on between us other than professionalism.”I was a professional, and I needed to start acting like it. I could do this. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen him naked before. He was just a client.
“Not at all,” I finally answered.
“Good.”
“Good,” I parroted, turning on my heel to retrieve a fresh towel for him.
Only when the alarm I set on my watch sounded did I reenter the room, a big white towel clutched in my hand. As soon as he noticed me, he started to rise from the tub. If I didn’t hurry and shield him from view with the fluffy fabric, I had no doubt he’d give me another show of him in all his glory. I almost tripped over my feet trying to get to him before he fully stood, and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard him chuckle, a sound he probably rarely made. But when I looked at him, he wore no expression.
He took the towel I thrust at him and wrapped it around his waist, his chest expanding on a quick inhale. Without a word, he moved toward a massage table a few feet away, untucking his towel before lying on his front. The loosened fabric hung overthe sides, threatening to fall and expose his ass if he moved the wrong way.
My steps were tentative as I approached, my heart threatening to beat right out of my goddamn chest if I didn’t get a hold of myself.
“Professional,” I mumbled, reminding myself I didn’t want to do anything to fuck up this opportunity.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“What?”
“Did you say something?”
“No,” I responded.
“I thought I heard you mutter something.”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?” He turned his head to the side and locked me in his eyesight.
“Yep.”
“You bring that oil?”Thank God he’s switched the topic.
“Yes.” I’d run back up to my apartment to grab it while he’d been in the ring. I hated watching men fight, so I was happy to keep myself busy while he went round for round with his sparring partner.
“It helped a lot.”
“I’m happy to hear it.”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t prefer his breezy tone to the brutal curtness I’d experienced before, but with this newfound airiness came confusion.
Although he’d proved what I’d known all along: the man was moody.
Better enjoy it before he switches back.
“I’m ready when you are,” he said, yanking me away from my thoughts and shoving me back into my predicament.
Wrapping myself in the silence that followed, I prayed he’d remain quiet so I could do my job without distraction.
His skin was icy cold, and I wondered how he wasn’t shivering. I’d never submerged myself into a bath of ice water, but I’d imagine it’d be quite some time before my teeth stopped clattering once I got out. I supposed Jackson was used to it, though.
“How long have you been fighting?” I asked, digging my fingers into his triceps.
So much for not talking.
“All my life.”
“How about professionally?”
