“How did you learn to trust yourself again?” I ask, both wanting to know the answer and doubting it’ll ever happen.
“It wasn’t easy,” she says, glancing down at the counter and then back up at me, and I can see the ghosts of her past—the heartache and betrayal. “I thought I was ruined forever, but someone told me the biggest thing you have to understand is we’re all human and there’s no one hundred percent guarantee we won’t fail ourselves or other people will fail us. It’s going to happen.”
I nod, knowing she’s right.
“But we’re always stronger than we realize, and as horrible as what happened was, you survived it… maybe you’ll be more guarded next time, but you’re not dead. Your heart is still beating and one day it will beat for someone else again.”
Letting out a deep breath, I try to let her advice sink in as I rub a hand over my chest.
“One day, you’ll wake up and the cut won’t feel so deep and you’ll move on. You’ll find someone who will make you want to trust again… in yourself and in them.”
Cage was that person for her. As much as I don’t like dwelling on my brother’s love life, I’m happy about that. “I’m glad he makes you happy… and that you were able to bring him out of his funk.”
“It was mutual,” she says with a laugh as her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “He was exactly what I needed even though I didn’t realize it at the time. When fate steps in and lends a hand, there’s really not much we can do, except buckle up and enjoy the ride.”
She winks, like she’s involved in some kind of conspiracy with fate, but maybe it’s just the fact she’s been in my shoes.
Been here.
Done this.
And has the T-shirt to prove it.
When I chuckle, it sounds nervous, and I can’t help it when my thoughts drift to Margaret O’Neal.
“I better get going,” I say, suddenly feeling the need to run.
Tempest gives me a consolatory smile. “It was good talking to you, Val. You know I’m here anytime, right?”
Nodding, I run a hand through my hair as I make my way to the door. With a hand on the lock, I pause. “Thanks, Tempest, not just for listening, but for not judging me.”
“Never,” she says softly.
“Lock the door behind me,” I instruct, heading out into the early morning breeze.
After more miles than I can count, I find myself back at the gym just in time for Gunnar’s early training session with Vince. Cage is hanging over the ropes, belting out instructions. Instead of heading up the stairs for a shower and work, I hang out for a while because if I’m by myself, I’m only going to dwell on the past—Chloe, the proposal, her tear-filled “yes,” and then the implosion of my life.
Around noon, I take my ass upstairs and move quickly through a shower and get dressed. Cage has me helping out with a group of kids from Harper House, a nearby boys’ home, and later today, I’m assisting Tempest in her self-defense class.
I can’t deny the thought of seeing Margaret O’Neal again has put me in a good mood. I try not to dwell on her soft curves and innocent smile, but fuck, it’s hard.
And so is my dick when she walks through the door, long dark hair whipping around her face like a vixen on a movie screen.
“Val,” Tempest calls, getting my attention. “Want to help me fix these mats?”
“Sure,” I tell her, turning my back to Margaret and taking a moment to collect myself. Saved by the almost-sister-in-law. She’s already trying to pull the edge on one of the heavy mats and I scoot her out of the way. “I got this.”
I know she wants to argue with me about being able to do it herself, but I don't let her. “Go greet your class,” I say, nodding toward the growing group of people. This self-defense business was a great idea and I can tell by the look on Tempest’s face every time she leads a class she’s proud of all this—proud of the studio, and my brother, and everything we’re building here.
“Welcome,” Tempest says behind me, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “I see we have a few new faces. Let’s go around and introduce ourselves, give a few facts, and say why we’re here, so we can all get to know each other a little better.”
Going about my work of adjusting the mats for our lesson today, I tune out the chatter behind me. But when I hear a sexy, somewhat gritty voice for a woman, speak up, I can’t help but give it my full attention.
“I’m Margaret O’Neal,” she begins and I keep my back to her because I’d totally give myself away if she saw the look on my face right now. Also, I hear the edge of nervousness and it makes me want to wipe it away, tell her there’s nothing to be scared or nervous about. “You can call me Maggie.” She pauses again as I throw another mat down, lining it up with the one beside it. “Uh, I’m twenty-four. I work at O’Neal Feed and Fodder. And I love collecting travel guides. This is my first time here and I really want to travel. Ha… obviously. Anyway, I thought it’d be a good idea to know some self-defense since I’ll probably be traveling alone.” There’s that nervous laugh again and then, she adds quietly, “I’m also an oversharer.”
Maggie.
I like that. It fits her even more than her given name, but both totally do it for me and I can imagine using them while in compromising positions.
Head out of the gutter, jackass.
The entire class then laughs, not at her, thankfully, but with her and I take that opportunity to ease myself into the background, hoping I can blend in and watch Maggie without her knowing I’m lurking.
And I manage to succeed until it’s time for everyone to pair off and practice what they’ve learned. I watch as the entire class quickly finds a partner, except for Maggie. She stands in the middle of the back row like a deer in headlights, glancing around her and not moving.
I’ve never been socially awkward, quite the opposite actually. Being in the middle of a big family, I didn’t have the chance. From a young age, I was thrust into the public eye and forced to find my footing when it came to interacting with people.
Maggie, on the other hand, is the poster child.
Tempest, being the intuitive person she is, notices it before anyone else, and walks up to her with a smile. “Need a partner?” I hear her ask and I’m grateful for her stepping in and coming to Maggie’s rescue. Then, she turns her eyes to me. “Vali, will you be Maggie’s partner?”
She phrases it as a question, but her look says you’re Maggie’s partner.
My look back to her says are you fucking kidding me?
We go back and forth like that for a few seconds, but in the end, I lose.
Or do I win?
Walking up to Maggie, our eyes meet and I smile at her to hopefully ease her nerves… and mine. “Hi, I’m Vali, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Tempest snorts and walks away, leaving us to it.
And I want to kick myself for that greeting, because even though it’s what I would say to any other woman, I shouldn’t have thrown that little tidbit back in Maggie’s face. At least not at first. She obviously needs a little warming up before I unload the full Erickson charm on her.