Chapter 8
The first part of the video was pretty much what I'd expected. I saw footage of Dorian, sliding around on the floor before getting up and plowing into Jake, who knocked Dorian on his ass with surprisingly little effort.
A moment later, Ronnie entered the frame, taking a flying leap that missed Jake by at least two feet. Ronnie slid, face-first, across the table, exactly where I'd been sitting, just before that stranger had hustled me out of there.
The camera shook wildly as the angle suddenly changed. It was easy to guess why. When I'd left that place, Trey, holding his video recorder, had been standing on our table. The way it looked now, he'd just jumped off. But why? To avoid Ronnie?
I kept on watching.
No. It was to zoom in on Jake, who was bobbing and weaving as Dorian took wild swings that never quite connected.
Around them, the place was pure chaos, with half of the people running for the exits while the other half added to the mayhem, either by either fighting amongst themselves or cheering on those who were.
The camera did a quick pan of the crowd, and I tried to make sense of it all. In all the commotion, I could hardly tell who was fighting who. But then, I realized something. Mostly, it was the security guys – meaning those who had arrived with Dorian.
I watched as a huge guy in a leisure suit sucker-punched a tall, clean-cut guy who looked around twenty years old. A college athlete? Probably.
Watching this now, I was wishing that I'd paid more attention to the news this morning, or heck, even late last night. With as bad as this looked, there was no way this hadn't morphed into a major news story by now.
I mean, how often did a basic awards ceremony turn into a full-blown riot?
When the camera panned back to Jake, he was squaring off against Dorian, who'd stumbled to his feet yet again.
I focused all my attention on Jake. He was facing away from the camera, so I could only see his back. When I'd left the convention center, he'd been wearing dark slacks and a matching jacket, along with a dark dress shirt – no tie. Now, the jacket was gone, whether flung onto the floor or lying somewhere in shreds.
But even without the clothes, and even from this angle, I'd have recognized Jake anywhere – with that thick, dark hair, those broad shoulders, and something predatory about the way he moved.
Watching, I felt that familiar mix of excitement and shame – excitement because even when Jake horrified me, he thrilled in ways that just weren't normal – and, shame, because Iknewthat those butterflies in my stomach would soon flutter downward, making me want to rip off the rest of his clothes and remind him that his amazing body wasn't only fit for fighting.
At the thought, my pulse quickened, and I bit my lip. If I left now, I could make it to Jake's place in a half-hour. He might even be home. And if he wasn't, he was probably at his office, located just one floor down. Technically, he was the boss. He could take a break any time, right?
Suddenly, the screen in front of me froze, jolting me out of my X-rated thoughts. I looked to Anthony and asked, "What happened?"
He gave me an annoyed look. "I paused it."
"Yeah. But why?"
"Because you were looking all—" Anthony shook his head. "—I dunno, stoned or something." He studied my face. "Are you?"
"No." Talk about insulting. "I was thinking of Jake."
Across from me, Steve made a sound of disgust. "That's even worse." He practically shuddered. "We don't wanna see that."
I rolled my eyes. "There's nothing to see. Jeez."
It was true. It wasn't like I was going to start masturbating or anything.
On instinct, I glanced toward the nearby bunk and couldn't help but wonder something. If my brothers weren't here,wouldI be getting hot and heavy with thoughts of Jake?
No. Definitely not. If shame didn't stop me, the smell of old beer would definitely do the trick.
Of course, Icouldplug my nose…
Damn it. Iwasstoned. And my drug was Jake. I couldn’t help it. The effect he had on me, well, it just wasn't natural.
Across from me, Steve's tone grew sarcastic. "You wanna sext him? We'll wait."
My face grew warm. Sexting wasn't the thing I wanted. What I wanted was the real deal, not that Steve needed to know that. "Oh shut up." I turned back to Anthony and said, "Go on. Hit play, will ya?"
