KICK IT | JENLISA

27

Lisa

"Jennie." Jackson's voice was soaked with disappointment. Good.

"She deserved it." She grunted, then flicked her lashes up and looked up at me. "She... go on. Share with the class, Lisa Manoban."

Her use of my full name, using an inward rolling of her lips around the 'M' surged another rash of heat through me. Sweat tickled my armpits. Tightness pulled at my groin, and I clenched my stomach again. This meeting was going to give me IBS.

Shame burned the tips of my ears. "Uhh, yeah. We had a... previous encounter."

"Oh, hell no!" Jennie jolted, standing up out of her seat.

All three of us froze. A woman's 'Oh, hell no!' meant an incoming bomb detonation. She looked ready to explode. Pink spread across her cheeks, and her breaths shortened, pitching the swell of those incredible tits. She held her notebook with a death grip, probably wanting to hit me. "Ms. Biggest Fan of her own fan club cut me off, stole my parking spot twice, flashed me a lewd gesture, assumed I was a fangirl fingering myself over her autograph, and got me fucking fired!"

"Why am I not recording this? This is good stuff for TikTok. I could actually make millions with this kind of content." Bambam whispered.

"Wait." My eyebrows squeezed together as I turned to Jennie, fully turned. Her lower back arched, lifting her chest and jutting out her ass, but my hand found her forearm. She spewed a lot to process, but one part caused concern to subdue the irritation buzzing in my veins. "You got fired?"

"Never mind!" She yanked her arm away. A flash of pain filled her eyes before she averted them, and a husk strained in her voice. "I... didn't mean to say that."

"Calm down." Motioning for Jennie to sit, Jackson cleared his throat. "Moving forward, taking both your in-person presence here as an act of good faith, I'm proposing a solution that I think will benefit both sides."

I leaned my elbows on my knees, threading my fingers together. In my peripheral vision, Jennie flicked her boot. The silence was progress for her, but why didn't she want to tell me she got fired? Was it because of me?

"First." Jackson's eyes focused on Jennie. "A truce on the jabs. Insults only hinder or impede progress, and I'm not babysitting hurt feelings from name-calling. Fair enough?"

"Fair." I mumbled while Jennie nodded.

"Second, Lisa will continue to take Jennie's classes at the studio..." Jackson looked at Bambam, who offered a thumbs up.

Why was I being punished? I scrunched my eyebrows. "So she can single me out and embarrass me in public? No thanks."

"Quiet, Lisa." Jennie whispered. "The adults and people with brains are talking."

I dragged a hand down my face, cursing this pistol loaded woman, cocked, and aimed at my ego.

"Jennie, you'll provide class routines to Bambam. He'll verify that nothing is detrimental to Lisa's shoulder." With no protest from her, Jackson looked at me. "And Lisa, you'll follow all of Jennie's suggested modifications when necessary."

"I'll need access to her medical records." Jennie paused when Jackson's wide eyes mirrored mine and crinkled her nose. "Only the shoulder ones. Bambam can keep her disgusting STD results."

Bam's chuckle was the only affirmation I needed. After four years of being monogamous, I was clean. With nothing to hide, I shrugged. "Fair. But I don't want to be lying down or singled out."

Her chest rising, Jennie sucked in a sharp breath. "No. In my class, I have the right to assess anyone at risk of injury."

"How many classes do you recommend for Lisa?" Jackson asked.

Her eyes flicked to me, and her lips rolled inward. My skin tingled where her gaze outlined my shoulder. Surprisingly, instead of driving me over a cliff, she offered, "Three to four times per week."

"I can't go to the studio that much." I groaned.

"How about Houston's gym facilities? There's room..."

"No!" Jennie and I answered in unison.

Bambam offered the most ridiculous suggestion. No fucking way I wanted my teammates catching me doing yoga. Or worse, hit on her. Bam's jaw almost snapped off at the sight of Jennie, stumbling over his handshake and biting his lagging tongue when she entered the meeting room earlier.

"Let's do it at my house."

I sucked in a breath, blinking at the shocked silence. Fuck, why did I suggest that? I was too nice. Dryness coated my throat, which I cleared when Jennie's eyes rounded. "I have a personal gym. I'll... uhh, buy whatever shit you need."

"That could work?" Jackson prompted her with raised eyebrows.

"No, it won't." The stubborn mule frowned. A defensive response swelled in my chest, but Jackson flashed his palm at me. "My classes..." Jennie's eyes averted, and her voice dropped to a hushed whisper. "I can't, Jackson."

"Thought you were fired." I snorted, earning a glare from Jackson and a smack in the arm from Bambam. Any softness that edged her face hardened. Her eyebrows drew together, wrinkled the space between them, and her mouth pulled down. Ice coated each word she spat, "Not the yoga studio one, you moron!"

I blinked at what she implied. She was fired from YG Accounting? Why? Explained why she wasn't listed in their directory. I thought it was because I didn't look under Satan's Mistress.

"Beyond the point." Jackson coughed. "Here's a compromise. Lisa attends two of Jennie's studio classes, blending in, and Jennie avoids shoulder-wrenching positions. Once per week, Jennie goes to Lisa's place for a one-on-one focus, addressing whatever she needs... without the creative swear words that Lisa inspires in Jennie."

"I can make that work." I ran my hand over my face. "She has to sign an NDA."

"Whatever she needs?" Jennie's eyes narrowed. "I should be looking for a new job, and sure as fuck am not doing this for the pleasure of Pencil Dick's company."