Hooked (A New Adult Romance)

Hooked

Alison Heart

Copyright
©
2015 by Alison Heart

All Rights Reserved Worldwide

No part of
this book may be copied, reproduced, downloaded to the Internet or distributed
in any format without prior written consent from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. References to
characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any
resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

~Dedication~

To NC.
I wouldn’t be doing this without
you.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Six Months Later

Hooked

Chapter 1

Jake

My tired eyes looked blankly at
the empty glass in front me, watching the ice cubes slowly melt to the bottom.

“Fuck, Jake, you destroyed that
guy tonight,” my cousin Vinny smiled while slamming back his fourth drink in
about as many minutes. We were sitting in a private booth at Vinny’s nightclub,
The
69er, celebrating yet another one of my victories
and the resulting $20,000 paycheck.

I tossed my head up and smiled
back unenthusiastically, wishing I were anywhere but here.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Vinny
and everything, it’s just that I had something else on my mind at the moment.
And it wasn’t about the fight—it was about a girl.

“Another beer, Jake,” one of the
waitresses asked as she bent over to retrieve my glass, showing me her bust in
the process. She gave me a coy look that made it clear she wanted to jump my
bones, and bad. It’s strange to think how much I used to enjoy getting hit on,
but lately these ridiculous sorts of displays were becoming increasingly
tiresome and tedious.

I shook my head ‘no.’ I wasn’t in
the mood to drink anymore than I was in the mood for a slutty waitress to wax
my dick; admittedly, I was feeling irritable.

Normally after a big win I’m all about
getting a little fucked up and crazy—you know, a guy’s got to unwind some
after building up for a fight.

But not tonight.

No, tonight I saw
Her
. Tonight I saw Ruby Cain.

Ruby is the reason I’m the way I
am. She’s the reason I’m in medical school. She’s the inspiration that drives
this champion fighter. She’s the reason I feel like I’m leading this fucking
double-life.

And I’ll be damned if I didn’t
see her hot ass for the first time in eight fucking years.

The only girl who had ever
rejected me…

I saw her hurrying into a cab on
Fourth Street.

She didn’t see me, but I saw her.

Oh yeah, I saw her all right, in
all her glorious perfection. Even my dick twitched at the sight of
her—really, no joke. The only thing that’s changed about her is that
she’s even more beautiful than ever.

What the hell was she was up to
these days? And what was her rush?

Yeah, I was distracted, to say
the least. A girl like Ruby can turn your whole world upside down and inside
out, can make time stop and the laws of physics cease to exist.

No, the last thing I needed right
now was another drink.

Even though it was after midnight
and I was tired, I said ‘goodbye’ to Vinny and went for a run.

Nothing like a good run to clear
the head.

I needed to think.

I needed to reset.

Ruby

Well wouldn’t you know it?

After eight years I see
Him
: Jake Bishop.

The hottest guy in my high
school.
Hell,
probably one of the hottest guys in the world.
Even way back
then he was built like Adonis—I can just imagine how he’s filled out in
the intervening years.

I had just stepped out of the
clinic where I’m employed as a nurse. It was about 10pm, and I was working late
to finish up some loose ends so that I wouldn’t have to deal with them come
Monday.

I was startled by the loud
commotion across the street as people suddenly poured out of The Orpheum, a
small local theater. Cameras clicked and glittered luminously, people were
cheering, and a scrum of reporters was hovering like vultures around a tall,
imposing figure in a hoodie.

I took note of the glowing marquee
projecting above the main entrance of the theater. My jaw dropped when I read:

Tri-State MMA Fighting Championships.
 
Jake
‘The Surgeon’ Bishop
vs
Rabid Cole Taylor.

I squinted my eyes to get a
better look at the hooded stranger. He turned to address a reporter, and with
the streetlight and numerous flashbulbs now illuminating his ruggedly handsome
face, I recognized in an instant Jake’s sexy jawline, perfectly shaped nose and
cocky smile.

Truth be told, my heart did a
little flip.

He had a thing for me back in
high school. And maybe I had a thing for him, too.
 
But he was simply too wild, too
dangerous, too immature, and too out of control. He was the Bad Ass of the bad
assess, and was always into some kind of trouble and getting into fights.
 

And trouble was one thing I
couldn’t afford back then. I promised
myself and my mother
that I would work hard
and get ahead in life—I wasn’t about to
grow up to be a low-life like my runaway father.

Or like Jake.
 

Because Jake was clearly heading
towards the dregs of society, even back then.
 

And clearly I was right, because
look at him now. Still fighting.

Ha!
‘The Surgeon.’
I rolled my eyes at the moniker. How base and
juvenile. I guess some things never change.

By the look on his face and the
way everyone was reacting to him I assumed he had won his fight; and once
again, some things never change.

Thank God he didn’t see me.

        
I
quickly hopped into the first cab I could wave down and told the cabbie to
drive away immediately.

        
I
wanted nothing to do Jake Bishop; even if he was the most luscious guy I’d ever
laid eyes on.

Chapter 2

Jake

“Keep your hands up, Jake! Keep
your hands up, dammit! Focus,” Ricky hollered at me. Ricky Baxter is my coach
and mentor, the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father.

And you don’t want to hear about
my father.
Or my mother, for that matter.

Long story short I was a fuck up
when I was younger, but Ricky saved me, put me in the ring,
encouraged
me to work hard. If it weren’t for Ricky’s daily dose of strict regimentation I
wouldn’t be in medical school today, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be paying for
it through what I earn fighting.

Needless to say, I owe Ricky my
life and love him dearly. I would die for him.
 

It’s 6am. I usually work out
between 5 and 7:30am on the days I have class.

Because when you’re a champion in
the ring and in the classroom, you have to be disciplined.

And I’m the most disciplined
motherfucker you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Ricky was yelling at me for
making stupid mistakes.
 
Really
fucking stupid mistakes.

We were sparring and he was
hitting me from every angle. I was so distracted he could have been blindfolded
and wacked my dick off, that’s how absorbed I was in my own thoughts. Finally
he had enough and pulled me out of the ring and sat me down on a stool.

“Jake, what’s up?” he inquired
with a stern expression. He didn’t sit down. He never sits when he’s coaching.
He simply bent over, with his hands on his knees, and held his face about a
foot away from mine.

“
Nuthin
’,”
I lied. “Just maybe a little tired, I guess.”

“Uh huh.” He looked me directly
in the eyes. He knew I was lying. “School goin’ okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s good.”

“How’s your brother, Chance? You
heard from him?”

“Yeah, talked to him not too long
ago. He’s patrolling in Afghanistan. He’s good.”

“Then what’s the problem? Is it a
girl?”

I steadily held his gaze and
smirked, “No. I’m telling you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Well then get the hell out of
here and don’t waste my time. Come back when you’re ready to practice.” He left
me and walked over to his office.

I nodded, got up and began making
my way to the locker room. That’s another thing I like about Ricky: he’s a
no-bullshit kind of guy. He tells it like it is, and expects you to do the
same. No fucking around, no whining, no excuses.

“Hey Jake!”

I stopped and turned around.
“Yeah?”

“You know that if you’ve got a
problem, you can always come to me.”

“Yeah, Ricky, I know. Thanks.”

I walked into the locker room,
stripped down and took a shower. After I was finished I wrapped a towel around
my waist and went to a sink to shave. I looked at the handsome devil peering
back at me from the mirror.

“That siren has really gotten
under your skin, hasn’t she?” I said to my reflection.

It was true.

Ruby Cain had gotten under my
skin.

I continued to look at myself in
the mirror, contemplating the person I had become. It was true; I owed Ricky my
life for he largely shaped the man I am today.

But Ruby…Ruby also largely shaped
the man I am today.

Damn her. Damn her for
insinuating that I was an immature ass who wouldn’t amount to anything.

If she only knew.

Ruby

“Okay, Timmy, can you please open
wide for the airplane? It’ll be in and out before you know it,” I smiled as I
brought a tongue depressor towards the mouth of an adorable, albeit pouty, five
year old.
 
He was seated on the exam
table in front of me. His mother brought him in because he had a fever and was
complaining of a sore throat.

It’s funny, but when I was a
little girl I absolutely hated hospitals, hated anything to do with healthcare.
I guess it was because I thought they stunk and reminded me of death and
suffering and pain. And now, at 26 years of age, it’s strange to find myself
working full-time as a nurse at a family practice clinic. How ironic: the one
thing I absolutely abhorred growing up turned out to be my profession as an
adult. I’ve come to conclude in my ripe old age that life is bizarre and
hopelessly convoluted.

That being said, I love my job
and couldn’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing. I love helping people
and interacting with them on a daily basis, and there are few things more
important than giving back to others.

Because giving back to others was
something my mother drilled into my brother and me.
 

The funny thing is, we never had
anything to give, we were simply too poor.

So I guess I’m making up for lost
time.

 
My mother constantly struggled to care
for us. I guess it’s why I felt so obligated to apply myself and work hard in
school to get ahead; I wanted her to be proud of me, and I wanted to be able to
give back to her when I was older.

And I’m proud to say that now I
can.

But what I’m not proud of is that
today I’ve been distracted; today I haven’t been myself. I haven’t been entirely
focused on the patients who need me.

Because my mind has been stuck on
the past and Jake Bishop.

Don’t get me wrong—I don’t
care for Jake, not in the least. I’m just a few short weeks away from being
married to the man of my dreams, Dr. Dan Hartley, a clinical pathologist,
lecturer and professor at the local medical school. I couldn’t be happier or
more in love.

It was just such a shock to see
Jake the other night. We sort of had a thing for each other.

Actually. Check that.

He had a thing for me. Probably
because I was the only girl in our school
who
didn’t
drop her panties when he winked at her.

That was all. I swear. No, he
reminded too much of my father: crazy, immature, a player.
The
kind of guy who fucked who he wanted, when he wanted, regardless of the situation
or whom he might hurt.

No, Jake Bishop was bad news.

Rotten to the core.

The only thing he had going for
him was his rock hard abs, bulging pecs, ripped arms and charming grin.

And it’s not like I never thought
about him; I just wasn’t dumb enough to go there.
 

He was simply on my mind because,
after such a long absence, we happen to cross paths.

Three weeks before my wedding.

So, yeah, like I said before:
life is bizarre and convoluted.