4. Little Mouse

My mouth opened and closed as I tried to force words out. None are forthcoming, and I was sure I only succeeded at looking like an idiot. The one who asked who I was reached forward – probably to grab the container, but did I mention the bloodthirsty pack of wolves? I let out a yelp and backpedaled only to come up against another body. That stupid squeak came out again as I tried to move forward, but hands gripped my shoulders, halting my movements. I was two seconds away from tossing the containers and hoping to cause a feeding frenzy – because they’re wolves – when I heard his voice right next to my ear.

“What’s in the containers, little mouse?”

I whimpered. Instead of the human language, I’d been reduced to squeaks and whimpers. He chuckled at the sound, and Jesus help me, my knees threatened to buckle. How could his laugh have this effect on me? I’m turned and forced to look up at him. His hands rested low on my hips, much lower than a friendly touch, long fingers gently grazing my ass. Shockingly, I didn’t want to move them like I did whenever Connor touched me.

“Did you bring me something?”

Still unable to speak and, quite frankly, think, I could only nod my head. I brought him me, every single part of me. His lips stretched slowly into a smile. I clenched the container, knowing my mouth was gaping, but I couldn’t help it. Up close and in the light of day, I realized how utterly gorgeous he was. This man should never be allowed to smile. Ever.

Thick eyebrows and unruly lashes framed his chocolate brown eyes, which twinkled with amusement as he looked down at me – because yet again, they were all freaking massive, and my 5’9” height was small compared to them. His dark hair was cut low, close to his scalp, and his high cheekbones and square chin were covered in the stubble of a neatly trimmed, full beard. I wondered if it would tickle or irritate my skin as it rasped against me? His skin was a lovely shade of reddish-brown—burnt cinnamon—and altogether beautiful. He seemed like he didn’t want to be touched when we first met, but skin like that just didn’t go untouched. Wide shoulders and a broad chest strained against the t-shirt he wore. My grip on the containers tightened even more because I knew if I let go, I wouldn’t be able to resist poking at his biceps to see if they were really as hard as they looked. Connor was muscular and athletically built, but compared to Nico, he fell extremely short. My downward perusal continued, and just as I wondered if behind that t-shirt was a six-pack or an eight-pack, I heard Van’s voice.

“I feel like we should be charging her for this show.”

Show? I jerked my head back to Dominic’s face, and my denial of staring at him died on my tongue because now he was grinning. If he shouldn’t be allowed to smile, then grinning should be punishable by death. Taboo. I swallowed and forced myself to look away. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me? Another man in my life was the last thing I needed. Not to mention the fallout of Connor even suspecting my attraction to another man. Is that what this was though? Attraction? Could I be blamed? He was cut from a marble slab and should be the poster child for workouts everywhere.

“If you ask nicely, I’ll take my shirt off,” Dominic whispered, his deep voice reverberating into the depths of me.

“I propose a trade! The food for endless staring!” Jax proclaimed like it was the best idea in the world.

It wasn’t.

“One of you should finish the class. Looks like they’re getting impatient,” the pregnant chick pointed out. I should really learn her name. I tried to follow her gaze, but that wall of flesh was still there, so I shoved the containers into Dominic’s chest and let go without waiting to see if he’d take them. I shouldn’t have worried though. His hands snapped up and closed around them.

“Those are for you. All of you. Y’all. I think. I didn’t realize all of you were gigantic, so maybe I should have brought more, but that’s all I have for now. Next time, I’ll make more, and then we can even share with the class and . . . yeah, just . . .”

I trailed off when I heard snickering from behind the flesh wall. A feminine voice asked if I’d really said share with the class. Yes. Yes, I did just say that. I took a deep breath and slowly released it as I shifted from one foot to the other.

“Get them out of here,” Cade growled, and if I weren’t so freaked out, I’d possibly consider kissing him—nope, that was a lie.

I sensed movement around me, but I didn’t dare look up. The scent of butterscotch grew stronger, and a moment later, so did the hazelnut.

“What the fuck is this?” Dominic asked.

Shit. Did he just growl, too? Was he mad? What the heck had I done?

“It’s hazelnut butter cake with sea salt caramel. The other is butterscotch cashew bars.”

“You made this?”

He didn’t sound angry anymore, just incredulous. I wasn’t sure which was better. I heard more snickers, but these seemed more amused than malicious—the pregnant chick. I nodded.

“For you. All. For all of you,” I clarified. You know, just in case he missed it the first time I’d blundered it. I’d give anything for an invisibility cloak right now.

“You thought it’d be a good idea to bake cakes and bars and bring them to a gym? A gym where MMA fighters train?”

He sounded genuinely curious, so I risked a glance up at him.

“Yes? It’s better than Jax’s trade idea. Right?”

Since the wall of flesh was unsuccessfully trying not to laugh, I looked at pregnant chick. She was already nodding enthusiastically, and I smiled before looking back at Dominic.

“You can’t train and eat things like this. It’s horrible. It’s probably 90% sugar. You expect us to eat this?”

My smile dropped along with my gaze. Who would willingly never eat things like this? A temporary diet was understandable, but forever? That was just stupid. Only an idiot would think that would be a good idea and actually stick to it. No, not an idiot, a complete psycho. Give up baked goods? Moronic. Maybe if a doctor ordered it. That would be a bummer, but I guess I could understand it.” As my thoughts died down, I noticed the complete silence. My head snapped up, and I saw Dominic staring at me, mouth gaped open, eyes bugged out.

Oh, dear, God! Had I said all that out loud? I looked at pregnant chick, and her expression was nearly identical to his. I just called Dominic and his friends psychotic morons. Sweat beaded across my forehead, and my breath came in shallow pants. Was I having a panic attack? My eyes darted to the door, and seconds later, I dashed for it. I once made the mistake of telling Connor he wasn’t as bright as he thought he was. I hadn’t even called him stupid like I wanted to. I came away from that with two bruised ribs. I wouldn’t stick around and wait for whatever punishment these guys deemed sufficient. I heard them calling out to me, but they were calling for Rochelle. This was not a Rochelle moment. This moment questioned my survival, and if there was one thing Bailey knew how to do, it was survive.

***

Dominic

Three days. That’s how long it’s been since Rochelle raced out of here like a hellhound was on her heels. I spent two of them trying to ignore the constant teasing I got from my friends about my dick finally working, me turning into a fat ass from her baking—because let’s face it, the girl could bake, and clearly, only a moron wouldn’t eat it; and let’s not forget, me being a moody bastard because I missed her. All of it pissed me off, and since I really had no logical reason to be this upset, that made me more upset. Then she had the nerve to not show up.

This class was supposed to be full, but only ten women and a little man were here. When I'd checked the roster, it'd said we were missing Bailey Ross–O’Malley. Since I was already pissed at the world, I added Bailey Fucking Ross–O’Malley to my shit list, too. Fuck her for thinking she needed to hyphenate her name and fuck Rochelle, too, for not showing up like she should and making me worry.

“Alright, let’s get started. I’m Nico, as most of you know. We’ll go through some basics to get started and—”

The door opening cut me off, and there she was. I stared at her in silence as she tried to come inside and be invisible at the same time. One of those wasn’t going to work out. By the time she made it to where everyone else stood, the entire group was staring at her. I felt like I should say something to take the attention away from her, but—pissed off asshole, remember?

On top of that, Jr was waking up after three days of not a twitch, and fuck if that didn’t add to my mood. She was still skinny as shit, and I shouldn’t be having this reaction to her. It had to be mental, right? Dicks don’t just work when they want to, right? She stared at the floor, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. If I weren’t such an asshole, I’d admit that her neon pink Nike’s were actually pretty cute on her, but fuck that, too. She was skinny as fuck and she ran out without a word. Her clothes were too baggy and she needed to eat a shitload more of that crap she baked us. Feeling eyes on me, I glanced at the door, and there they stood, waiting for another scene. I really needed new friends.