by Cindi Madsen
Dad waved me inside, and I swung the door closed because I had a feeling this conversation would end up getting loud and confrontational, no matter what figures I presented.
“Is Finn around?” I asked. Even if he didn’t take my side, he’d make faces and keep things light and do his whole arbitrator thing.
“He already left for the day,” Liam said.
Well, no use putting it off any longer. “Okay, so give me a chance to make my point before you freak out.”
Liam pointed at himself. “Me or Dad?”
“Yes. But mostly…” I forced myself to meet Dad’s eyes. Things had been icy between us ever since our dinner and my subsequent refusal to pimp myself out to my ex. “You want me here to take care of admin and accounting stuff and to keep the gym running as efficiently and profitably as possible, right?”
The noise he made landed somewhere between a grumble and a grunt, which basically boiled down to I will neither confirm or deny, but proceed and I will proclaim my judgment.
“We should open the gym up to the general public. We need the funds that would bring in more than ever.”
Dad straightened and opened his mouth, and I stepped closer to his desk and plowed on through so that I’d get it all out before he went to shutting it down.
“It’d be good for a lot of the fighters. The guys who’d make good teachers, like…Adam and Finn.” I thought of last night’s workout with Shane. He encouraged and made me feel strong, while also pushing me. “And Shane. Maybe even Kyle.” I glanced at my brother. “No offense, Liam, but I’m afraid you’d be too hardcore for, like, ninety percent of the population.” Especially now, when you’re constantly missing Chelsea but in denial about it.
Liam shrugged. “None taken. You’re not wrong. I barely have enough patience to deal with training and keeping everything else up and running as it is.”
“Yeah, and I totally get that. But once in a while you could step in, like, say, if we can’t find anyone else in the whole world.”
Liam cracked a smile; Dad, not so much. He’d at least stopped trying to interrupt, so I’d still mark it as a momentary win.
“We’ll run it based on upcoming fights, having others step in when the usual instructors need to be in training camp mode and don’t have as much time. That way, our fighters won’t all need side jobs—or more often than not, two side jobs. We all know the only real money to be made is at the very top, and the rest of these guys are barely scraping by and struggling to get in enough training to actually have a chance at getting far enough to make a decent living.
“It’d free you up, too, Liam. Constant cash flow coming in means less stress and more time for you to train as well.” I dared a glance at Dad, whose frown had reached epic proportions. “I know it was your dream to open and run a gym that catered strictly to professional fighters, but hardly anyone can make that work these days.”
Dad leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his desk. “Are you completely caught up with all the bills and invoices?”
The air puffed right out of my sails. “Of course not—I can’t do three months of bookkeeping in less than three weeks. But I can see the writing on the wall, and if that’ll help you see it, too, I’ll literally write it on the wall right now. Where’s a Sharpie?”
Dad shook his head. “We don’t have a ladies’ locker room.”
“I thought of that. We can put up a wall between the two sides of the locker rooms, and I know you’re going to bring up the fact that only one side would have showers, but most women don’t shower at the gym. They go home to do it. And if we have enough female members, we can expand the area and add showers later.”
“It’s not what I wanted to do here,” Dad said, and I let my head drop back so I could plead with the heavens for help getting through to him. “I wanted a huge team of fighters that dominated in the cage and for Team Domination to mean something.”
“It still will! It’ll mean fighters get trained by the best, and people who want to lose weight or get strong or learn how to defend themselves will also learn from paid experts who know what they’re doing.”
“I could get on board with teaching self-defense classes,” Liam said. “Less whiney dudes who don’t want to put in the effort and more teaching chicks to kick ass if anyone messes with them.”
Affection for my brother calmed my irritation at Dad. “To be fair, some dudes might want to learn how to defend themselves.”
“To be fair, I’ll delegate the whiny dudes to Finn.”
I laughed, then sobered as my gaze drifted back to Dad. “Liam’s in and I know Finn will be, too. I can talk Adam and Shane into it.” I did my best to ignore the suspicious side-eye Liam gave me when I mentioned Shane. “If we started on this now, I could recruit teachers, work out a schedule, and organize the publicity push so people could start enrolling. Then it’d be in place before I left.”
Dad stood, his large hands braced on the desk in front of him. “Or you could stay, fix things so that we can keep it running the way I like, and be here to set it up if it comes to that.”
Anger rose, hot and fast. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you remember how this went last time, when I told you I was leaving and you demanded I stay? I thought you wanted us to have a relationship, not repeat old fights from now until eternity.”
“Everything I say somehow offends you,” Dad said. “And you already have one foot out the door.”
“Can’t wait until I get to make it two.” I turned to Liam. “Try to talk some sense into him. For your sake and Finn’s, if nothing else.”
I stormed out of the office. Apparently not fast enough, because while I couldn’t make out Liam’s words to Dad, his response came out loud and clear.
“If she really wanted to help, she’d get my fighter a shot at the guy who left the team because of her.”
…
My phone buzzed, vibrating against my desk. After a lengthy phone conversation with Trey, where I’d relayed the fight with my dad and vented about how impossible he was, he and I’d been texting back and forth the past hour or so.
I assumed he was offering more encouragement—cheery words I’d read after I finished entering these last few figures. I was this close to seeing how much profit the gym had made in March.
Trey had said all the right things, and I wished it made me feel better. Instead I was pouring my annoyance into catching up on the books—for my brothers’ sake—so I could leave San Diego early and get back to San Fran where I belonged.
A twinge wrenched my chest. That’d mean saying good-bye to Shane.
Ugh, why’d that thought have to come along for the ride? I’d been doing so well at not thinking about him as I’d talked with Trey, our bond finally drifting across the distance and up through the line.
I hit enter so the program’s formula could add and subtract and work its magic. “Yikes. This is exactly why we should hold workout classes, but no one listens to me.”
At this particular moment, that was especially true considering everyone else had gone home for the day.
I grabbed my phone so I could see what Trey had texted me. Only it wasn’t Trey.
Shane: I’m bored. Come over and entertain me.
His address—presumably—followed.
Me: I should come over and teach you a lesson, because clearly you still don’t know how to say please or ask politely.
Shane: PLEASE come teach me a lesson. I’ve been very naughty.
Heat settled into my cheeks—I’d walked right into that one.
I tapped my lip, contemplating how to reply. I couldn’t go over there, even if the temptation danced through my mind, making all sorts of justifications about why it wouldn’t be a big deal.
The fact that I felt the need to justify it was reason enough.
Me: I’ll have to teach you a lesson during our sparring session tomorrow.
Shane: This is why I don’t ask. Then you go thinking you’ve got options, and I don’t want to wai
t till tomorrow. I want to see you NOW
Me: We’ll also have to work on your temper tantrums.
Shane: Sounds like we’ve got a lot to fix. We better start ASAP
Shane: COME OVER
Me: Can’t. I’M WORKING.
My phone rang instead of chimed, and my response to the unexpected noise involved jumping and nearly dropping it. After a quick moment to compose myself, I answered.
“Are you at the gym alone?” Shane asked.
“No?”
“Damn it, bruiser. It’s nine thirty at night.”
“Adam’s here,” I said, since he was the one who’d left last.
Shane grumbled something I couldn’t quite make out, but I was sure there were at least a couple of expletives.
“Well, anyway, thanks for the update on the time. Looking at my cell phone to find out is so taxing.”
“Keeping track of you is taxing,” Shane said.
“I don’t need you to keep track of me. Besides, I’m getting ready to head home,” I lied. It was quiet and I was on a roll. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though.” Hopefully I hadn’t sounded as desperate as I felt for tomorrow to be now.
“Good night, Brooklyn,” he said.
“Good night, Shane.” I hung up and tried very hard to not think about how a few minutes on the phone with him had made me feel better than I’d felt all day.
Chapter Nineteen
Shane
“I fucking knew it,” I said as soon as Brooklyn opened the door to the gym. I’d knocked, half hoping I was wrong and half hoping I was right, and at least she’d had to unlock the door, but still. Almost ten o’clock at night and she was sitting here alone, the lights from the place a beacon to passersby who were up to no good.
Her mouth hung open as her mind spun for an excuse, but we both knew she was busted. Finally she just shrugged.
“Mm-hm.” I extended the Big Gulp of Mountain Dew I’d stopped to get on the way over.
She gave a little squeal and hugged me, and I decided I’d bring her soda every damn day. “Thank you,” she said, and I wrapped my free arm around her, giving her an extra squeeze and wishing I didn’t have to let go. So far, taking it a day at a time was…torturous. I wanted to ignore the reasons we’d agreed crossing lines would be bad, throw caution to the wind, and kiss the hell out of her.
“Now,” I said—I’d told her I would let her know when I’d kiss her if I had my way, and with her lips so close it was all I could think about. She pulled away, her eyes going wide. Then she ducked her head and swiped a strand of hair behind her ear. Without a word, she headed back to her desk, and I followed. Since I’d put the weirdness in the air I figured it was my job to clear it. “So, how’d the last half of your day go?”
“Not great. My dad and I had another thing because he’s too stubborn to listen to reason.”
“Hmm. Sounds like someone else I know.”
She shot me a dirty look that was ridiculously cute. Now, I thought but forced myself to not say it aloud. She gave me the rundown of their argument.
“And then he…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“Just said something that hurt my feelings, even though I don’t think he meant for me to hear, and…yeah, not going there, so let’s move on.” She lifted her drink and wrapped her bright pink lips around the straw. “Mmm, this is extra strong, just the way I like it. Are you sure you don’t want any sugary, syrupy goodness?”
I dragged a hand over my face. “You’re killing me on two levels.”
She tipped the soda my way, one eyebrow arching higher than the other, and I slowly leaned forward and took a swig.
“You’re a bad influence,” I said, and a victorious smile spread across her face and lit up her eyes. The smallest things made her so happy, and I wanted to find out more of her favorite things so I could bring them to her and she could tempt me to enjoy them along with her.
Yeah, I’ve officially lost my mind over this girl.
We made small talk as she packed up, although talk with her never seemed small, each word impacting me more than I should let it.
“Aren’t you gonna be up all night now?” I jerked my chin at her nearly empty cup.
“Nah. I’m practically immune to caffeine now. I can drink a Big Gulp and go right to sleep.”
Too bad, because I could think of a lot of things I’d like to stay up all night doing with her. In further proof I’d lost my mind, while some of those things were definitely on the dirty side, if all we ended up doing was talking and laughing until the sun came up, I’d still consider it a win.
I walked with her as she checked the front door and shut off the lights, painfully aware it meant parting ways soon. The closer we got to those last grains of sand slipping through the hourglass, the more leaden my lungs felt. When we were mere steps from the back door, I could hardly stand it, the need to touch her grew so strong.
I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her back to my chest.
“Shane,” she said, her voice as shaky as my resolve.
“Just let me hold you for a minute.” I lowered my lips to the top of her head, not kissing her like I wanted to but resting them there and breathing her in. My hand hit the top of her jeans and I splayed my fingers, just enough that my thumb and index breached the hem of her shirt. I groaned at the feel of her soft skin and her sharp inhale of breath.
For a moment we remained that way, not talking, barely breathing, desire building and intensifying until it threatened to consume me.
“Why do you have to be all thoughtful and easy to talk to?” she asked, her hand covering mine. “It’d be so much easier if you were the cocky player I pegged you as in the beginning…”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m thinking about how amazing it feels to be pressed up against your ass, and the word peg is giving me dirty flashes of pinning you against the nearest wall.” All true, but now that I’d voiced them they were multiplying, and there was no use trying to hide my body’s reaction. My hard-on strained against my zipper, the tight fabric getting more uncomfortable by the second.
“Not helping,” she said, the rasped words only sending more desire pumping through my body.
“And you’re sure we can’t—”
“I’m sure. I’m not going to pretend I’m not tempted, but nothing’s changed. I still have a boyfriend and will be leaving at the end of the summer, and you’re still focused on training for your next fight—a fight you have pretty much everything riding on. The timing’s just…” Her chest rose and fell with her shallow breaths. “Shane, I just can’t.”
“I know,” I said, and using every ounce of my willpower, I dropped my hand and took a large step back.
Her gaze stayed straight ahead as we pushed through the exit, and she remained very methodical as she climbed inside her car and fastened her seatbelt. I leaned my forehead against the cool metal of the top of her Mustang, not that it helped—at this point, only one thing would, and it was the one thing I couldn’t have.
I wanted to look down at her one last time before I wished her a good night, closed her car door, and let her go. But I knew if I did, I wouldn’t let her go.
So I closed her door, then spun on my heel and climbed on my bike, and watched in agony as she drove away from me.
Chapter Twenty
Brooklyn
Finn and I were in the middle of an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia binge when my phone chimed.
Shane: Come over.
This was his new thing, texting me every night and telling me to come over. I’d worried that after Wednesday night, things would be weird, but we’d powered through the next day, sticking to our no avoiding or ignoring decree. Today everything was back to normal.
“Normal” being I thought too much about him and occasionally got caught up in staring at his shirtless torso as he worked every single muscle to exhaustion in the gym. The fluttering heart sensation I experienced every time he
looked my way or talked to me was also normal.
I glanced at Finn—apparently he was used to me constantly texting during our shows. He didn’t even react.
I rubbed my thumb over my phone screen, debating how to respond. Shane knew I wouldn’t go over, just like he probably knew that each time he demanded that I did, a little more of my resolve got chipped away.
Me: Someone’s forgotten their manners. I’m still not seeing that “please” we talked about. And naughty or not, I’m not going to attempt to teach you a lesson we both know you’ll never learn.
I hit send and bit my thumbnail. I’d replayed our moment in the hallway too many times, but I took the trip there again anyway, to when he held me against him and became my entire center of gravity for a couple of glorious seconds. Sometimes I felt too weak for being tempted in the first place, and for admitting as much as I had to him. Shutting him down had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done, and I’d done it anyway.
I wished it felt more like a win. That night I’d nearly told Shane that I worried slipping with him would destroy me, in more ways than one. It would mean throwing away a perfectly good relationship that’d lasted nearly a year and would end up hurting Trey, who so didn’t deserve that after how great he’d been to me, and would make me a total hypocrite. Admitting my feelings would also leave my heart out there, way too exposed. It’d mess with my head and put me in the same position I’d sworn I’d never put myself in again. His dreams would eclipse mine, and once the inevitable end came, I’d no longer recognize or respect myself. It was hard to start over when you had nothing left, and I never wanted to have to start from scratch again.
No one thought they’d destroy someone, not in the beginning, but it didn’t keep it from happening. There was no way to know how hard we’d crash at the end of the summer, either, and if it would mean a fallout with Team Domination.
Thanks to that last slicing remark from Dad it was definitely on my mind. I couldn’t be responsible for another guy leaving the team and then just walk away so my dad and brothers could deal with the mess. They needed high-paid fighters so they could get paid. Between the books and checking on the bank accounts, I knew we needed the money.
