Page 83 of Silent Damage

He’s dreaming about me.

I want to wake him so much, but I’m afraid. I don’t want this to end. My heart can’t handle hearing him say something other than what he just said.

So, I just leave and go to work.

Leaving the picture I drew of him on the kitchen table crosses my mind, but I stop myself.

This moment is mine. No matter what happens between us, I’ll have this moment.

And a picture to remember it with.

Chapter 20

Jason

The punching bag is hanging on another branch, and this one better not break. I only have a couple more days before the fight, and I’m spending every free moment I’ve got preparing for it.

Plus I need the distraction.

I’ve avoided Gabe like the plague since we had sex, sneaking out when he comes home from work or putting in my earbuds and avoiding eye contact when we’re alone together.

The hurt on his face makes my gut coil every single time I see it.

But I can’t think about that right now.

I need to focus.

I have a fight coming up—a future to prepare for.

A future that I want.

Gabe has his own life: a job, a trailer, his mom.

What do I have?

Nothing.

When he’s not here, I’m just sitting around this fucking trailer all day thinking about how good it felt to hear his husky moan while my dick was buried inside him.

He made all of my fight and drive vanish when we fucked. I didn’t want to be anywhere else but right there in that bed with him.

Forever.

Which is why I have to get out. If I don’t win this fight and earn my spot on the HellCats, I don’t know what will happen to me.

The backdoor creaks open, and the man who has plagued my thoughts for days walks onto the grass with a sheepish look on his face.

The impulse to say hello and ask how work went is almost too strong to resist, but I manage to stop myself.

I set my sights on the punching bag and go to town.

Gabe approaches, standing a few feet away, watching as I battle this bag.

I try to ignore him—I really do.

But he’s standing there in sleeveless flannel and a black baseball cap, and fuck if he doesn't look so good.

I stop training, letting the bag swing in the air until it settles. “What?” I ask.