Jersey Six - Jewel E Ann Page 0,40
that moment.
“Well, clearly Shane’s not in his room. So you don’t need to wake the whole goddamn hotel. Just a minute …” Ian started to close his door then pulled it back open. “Wait in here while I get dressed.”
Jersey pumped her hands, working the adrenaline as she stepped into his dark hotel room. From the light of the bathroom, she could see the room was much smaller than some of his previous rooms, but still twice the size of Max’s room. Hers didn’t have a sitting area or a kitchenette.
Ian closed the bathroom door, leaving Jersey in complete darkness. She dropped down and pushed through fifty more pushups, side planks, mountain climbers, and finished with jump squats just as Ian emerged from the bathroom, wearing loose-fitting jeans and a long-sleeved, fitted, white tee.
Breathlessly, she eyed his messy, damp hair … and the hickey.
“Why are you doing that in the dark?” he mumbled with a groggy, morning voice.
Jersey flipped the light switch by the door. Ian tucked his wallet into his front pocket, his phone in his back pocket, and grabbed two bottles of his special water from the kitchenette’s counter.
For a few moments, Jersey forgot what they were going to do. Ian moved toward her, looming over her as her back melted against the door.
“How tall are you?” she whispered, straining her neck to look up at him.
“Six-five.” He shoved one of the bottled waters into her chest.
Jersey dropped her chin to stare at it for a second before taking it from him.
Ian had large hands that fit perfectly with his tall frame. Chris said they played basketball together. She could imagine Ian palming a basketball with those large hands—the same ones that easily palmed her ass on the plane.
She swallowed hard from the memory of it.
Ian’s nose wrinkled. “Why do you keep wearing the same clothes you wore when I met you?”
Jersey shrugged. “Because I’m not wearing tight jeans to work out.”
“Why didn’t you get new workout clothes when Max took you shopping?” Ian sounded exasperated, like everything about Jersey irritated him.
Another shrug. “Because I didn’t see any at the store, and she said we needed things for me to wear while working.”
He frowned. Jersey’s body stiffened when his hand brushed her side, reaching for the doorknob. She squatted down to grab her bag.
“Let’s go.”
In the taxi on the way to the gym, Ian texted Max to let her know their whereabouts and instruct her to go buy new workout clothes for Jersey ASAP.
She wasn’t the only one in need of a bag to hit that morning. A crowd of men and women filled the space. Ian purchased a day pass for Jersey, drawing more attention to himself than he wanted that morning. He wasn’t ready for autographs and selfies, but without a hat and sunglasses, it was unavoidable.
After the last picture, he found a dark corner to hide in that still gave him a good view of Jersey. In her baggy sweats and a soiled, white-ish tank top, she beat the hell out of a large punching bag before moving on to a speed bag.
Ian narrowed his eyes as another boxer, a woman a little older and a lot bigger than Jersey, approached her. She wore a cocky grin, pointing to the empty ring in the middle of the room. Jersey twisted her lips and shrugged, following the woman to the ring.
A guy who worked at the gym stepped into the ring as well, chatting with Jersey and the other woman as they stood huddled together. Both women nodded and tapped gloves. The guy stepped back against the ropes and hit a bell.
The larger, taller woman slipped in a mouth guard. Jersey didn’t have one in her mouth. Ian eased out of the shadows, feeling a twinge of concern for Jersey’s teeth. Her opponent had to be at least twice Jersey’s size. His new employee carried nothing but hard muscles on her bones. Jersey wasn’t soft and curvy, but rather five feet, seven inches of sharp bones and steely muscles with a thick, dark mane.
Jersey reminded Ian of a racing horse, a filly less likely to win but filled with as much determination as the favored colts.
Her confident challenger threw the first punch. Jersey bobbed to easily avoid the hit. Her opponent had fast feet and good form. Jersey stood idle like a bright red target, her hands limp at her sides instead of up by her face—protecting her teeth!
Ian’s phone vibrated. “Yeah?”
“We’re out front. You’re going