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First Steps

Chapter Seventeen – First Steps

"You're oddly aggressive today," Jack commented as I slammed my fist into the punching bag again.

"Shut up," I grumbled, throwing my gloves to the ground.

Jack had been impressed with me that morning. I had already gone on a run before coming in, so I was buzzing by the time we started training. Apparently, I had too much energy to go at him, so we had started out with the punching bag. An hour later, I still felt as wired as I had when I got there. I think Jack could see it in my eyes.

"Anything you want to talk to me about?"

"No." Definitely not the fact that for the first time in weeks Vincent hadn't driven me home the night before. That definitely was not bothering me one bit.

"Juliette."

"I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes at me, which resulted in my blood igniting. I had him on the floor before he could blink. I think we were both surprised with the ease with which I pinned him. He stared up at me but made no move to throw me. Instead, he adjusted so that he was lying flat on his back. As I straddled his stomach, I could feel the blush crawling up my neck. It didn't help that he let his hands settle on my hips. His tawny gaze caught mine, and I froze.

"You sure?' he asked, his voice soft as cashmere.

"No." I slipped off him and fell onto my back beside him.

"The guy?"

"Isn't every girl's problem a male?" I grumbled, throwing my arm across my eyes.

He chuckled. "That's very true."

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Thankfully, Jack seemed to take the hint and hauled himself to his feet. He reached down and took my hand before pulling me up as well. He used more force than I expected, and I stumbled into his chest. He steadied me, but instead of stepping away from me he gripped my face with gentle fingers and tilted my chin up. For half a second his eyes searched mine. My brows rose of their own accord, but I made no move to step away from him. The shake of his head was almost imperceptible as he released his hold. Even though he wasn't touching me anymore, neither of us moved.

"I need you to trust me if this is going to work. We've talked about this," his voice was low, and I could swear his eyes were pleading.

"I trust you as my trainer," I told him, taking a step back and raking my fingers through my hair. "This is different. And he really isn't anyone to worry about."

"Are you sure?"

No. "Yes."

Jack looked as skeptical about my statement as I felt. The thing was, I didn't even know what I was feeling, so how could I even begin to explain it to him? How was I supposed to tell him that I had developed feelings for a man who had kidnapped me? Okay, so maybe he wasn't the one who had technically kidnapped me, but it had been for him. And that sounded creepy. There was absolutely no way to explain this situation to Jack without sounding like I was some kind of victim of Stockholm Syndrome. Which, maybe I was. I was making my own head hurt. It had been over a week since the incident in my kitchen with Vincent. I shouldn't still be impacted by it. More than that, I shouldn't be so bothered by walking home the night before. But I had grown accustomed to his company. Scrunching my eyes closed, I began to rub my temples.

"You good?" Jack asked, and I felt him step closer again.

"Fine," I replied, taking an equal step back.