by Cindi Madsen
“I don’t think I can hold on any longer,” I said, my head lolling back when he hit that spot that drove me crazy.
“Then let go.” Shane drove into me, deeper and harder, the pressure that’d built between us screeching toward the tipping point. He roughly kissed my mouth, a kiss that was pleasure and pain, lips and teeth and scruff and more passion than I’d ever experienced, and I let go.
His name spilled from my lips as I reached a whole new level of ecstasy, the aftershocks tumbling through me one after another, so close I could hardly tell where one ended and the next began. I clung on to him, my fingernails digging into his back, then I dragged them down, scoring lines for him to remember me by. His control snapped, and I arched my hips, meeting him so we could come down together.
After dropping a kiss on my lips, Shane shifted to the side of me, pulling me onto his chest as he fell to the bed. He held me against him extra tightly, like he never planned on letting go. I closed my eyes and soaked in every detail, from how amazing it felt to be in his arms, to his scent, to the steady sound of his heart beating away inside his massive chest. Then I silently chanted be strong, be strong, be strong…
Chapter Forty-Four
Shane
After being in countless fights in my life of every kind—street, professional, planned, impromptu—I recognized the shift in the air. Instinctively I knew that Brooklyn and I were heading for a fight, and I wanted to freeze time and just stay like this forever. With her in my arms and the rest of the world far, far away.
She rolled off me and my muscles tensed. I needed to decide if I should block or strike, but how could I do anything when she was getting dressed, so much raw pain in her features that the ache echoed through my chest?
Since I didn’t want to bring a cock to a gunfight, I pulled on my boxer briefs and decided I’d risk not having the protection of my shirt and pants.
Every methodical move Brooklyn made drove me closer to the brink of insanity. “If you don’t say something soon, I’m gonna lose my shit.” I was probably going to lose it either way.
The hard purse of her lips made me want to take it back. To beg her not to say anything that’d ruin me. “My paintings were selected for this big art show in San Francisco called the Golden City Art Exhibition—remember, I mentioned I’d submitted them when I showed them to you. Anyway, when I entered them, I wanted to believe they’d get picked in spite of the overwhelming odds, but the truth is, I didn’t. Not really. A lot of things I didn’t believe would happen this summer did.”
The news gave me emotional whiplash. What was the catch? Where was the brewing storm I felt crackling in the air? “That’s awesome. I’m not surprised. Your work is fantastic.”
Unshed tears made her eyes gloss over. “You know when it is? The exhibition?”
I bit back the sarcastic How the hell would I know? that wanted to explode out of me and forced my breath to even out. “When is it?”
“The same night as your fight with Conrad.”
My lungs caved in on themselves. When I’d imagined winning that fight, I’d always imagined Brooklyn in the crowd, cheering me on. Her by my side when I celebrated my victory and the second leg of my very long, very successful career. No more has-been status for me. “That sucks, and of course I want you to be there”—you have no idea how badly—“but I understand that you won’t be able to make that one.”
“It’s not just that fight, though. It’s important that we have our priorities in order. Both of us.”
“I’m planning on training my ass off, spending time with you, and winning that fight so I can land the next one. My priorities are in order.”
Brooklyn ran a hand through her hair, her gaze barely touching me before flickering to the door. “You can’t tell me you haven’t been more distracted since we crossed into more. We’ve joked about it, but it’s crunch time, and there isn’t time for jokes.”
“This feels like a joke, but I gotta say, it’s not a fucking funny one.”
She tilted her head.
“Don’t give me your disappointed look, like you expected me to be a bigger person,” I said, panic and anger forming a corrosive mix that burned through me. “I jumped all in, and you wrote us off before we even started.”
“That’s not true. I tried, but I can already see it’s not going to work.” She sucked in a breath, then closed her eyes and blew it out. When her eyelids opened, she looked more through me than at me. “I’ve been down this road before, with my dad, with my ex. I stay on the sidelines while fighting takes center stage. Only I won’t put off my dreams, so I won’t be on the sidelines. I’ll be in San Francisco, painting and completing an internship at an art gallery that I hope will display my work one day. You’ll be fighting your way up to the top, and Shane, I want that for you. But the nights I’m not there to celebrate with you will stack up, and there will be a ton of other pretty girls lining up to celebrate with you.”
I restrained the raging beast inside that wanted to be let loose and did my best to remain calm. “And you don’t think I’m strong enough to keep it in my pants?”
She flinched. “I’ve seen it time and time again. Guys who adore their wives and kiss them good-bye, and then they get on the road and…” She shrugged, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I watched my mom brush it off like it was okay, but it wasn’t, and I won’t live that life. Our lives are going different ways—we both knew that from the beginning.”
I rounded the bed. “But things have changed.”
“They have,” she said. “Now you’ve got a huge fight lined up, and I have a big art show coming up, and I know firsthand that long-distance relationships don’t work. You need to focus, and I need to go get my life in order up north. Why set ourselves up for failure?”
“There are more galleries than the ones up north, you know. Why can’t you at least look down here and see if you can’t find a job that’s not so far away? I could really use you here with me as I’m starting this climb.”
Her face fell. “Positions don’t just open up, not with the bigger galleries, and especially not at ones that fit the kind of art I do. The one where I’ll be working is steeped in the art world, it affords me an opportunity to be mentored by an artist I admire, and it’ll give me connections that can catapult me to the next level. And the fact that you think I need to be the one to move only proves my point. I can’t put my dreams on hold so you can have yours.” She pressed her lips together, fighting her emotions, and I wanted her to stop fighting and let them out already. “In order for us to both have our dreams, we can’t be together.”
I took a step toward her, jabbing a finger at her words. “That’s bullshit. It might be hard, but you’re tapping out before we even have a chance to try.”
“Why delay the pain? So it’ll be even harder when we break? The longer I’m here, the more…” Her voice cracked and a tear ran down her cheek, and even though I was pissed as hell at her, I still couldn’t help reaching out and wiping it away with my thumb.
Her shaky breath skated across my wrist. Her fingers wrapped around my forearm, her eyes closed, and I thought I’d broken through to her. Then she dropped her hand and stepped back, out of my reach, and as hungry as I’d been for her touch, it made her withdrawal that much worse.
“I spent too much of my life resenting fighters and all the attention my dad gave them, but now I’m glad, because it means he took a chance on you, and I know you’ll earn it. You’re the real deal, Shane Knox. You made me see the world in a different way, and I’ll always be grateful for the time we got to spend together.” More tears spilled down her cheeks, and a hollow pit opened up in my chest, and this wasn’t the way this was supposed to fucking go. “I’m not going to hold you back, and I’m asking you to do the same for me.”
“That’s fucking unfair and you know it.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “What would be fair, Shane? Me giving up what I want to stay here for you?”
Fa
ir would be not losing the woman I was in love with right when everything else in my life aligned. Fair would be if she believed in me instead of comparing me to weaker men. From the beginning she’d made it clear she didn’t think we could work, and all my efforts to prove otherwise didn’t matter.
When you care about someone, you stick around. You work it out.
Plenty of people had walked out on me, and I wouldn’t beg her to stay. I engaged every protection mechanism I’d learned through the years. I bottled up my feelings and shoved them down deep where no one could find them—even me—threw up a big-ass wall, and quickly detached myself from the situation, from Brooklyn. From everything. “You’ve already made your decision. Don’t let me hold you back.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Brooklyn
A long time ago I’d made a pact with myself that I’d never let myself cry in the gym. I’d never seen anyone else cry in there, so I vowed I wouldn’t, either. Back in those days, I’d been worried they’d accuse me of acting like a girl.
I no longer cared if I was acting like a girl. I was a girl, and I had a lot of respect for the sisterhood in general. Crying didn’t mean you were weak, and it was my good-bye party, so I’d cry if I damn well wanted to.
And boy did I want to. Which was good, because the waterworks had started several minutes ago. Through my sobs I heard the soft tap, tap, tap that’d welcomed me home. Only this time it seemed to be pushing me on my way. Probably because the person hitting the bag was Shane, and he didn’t pause his efforts to come over with the rest of the guys to say good-bye. I supposed I deserved that, and in theory, we’d already had our good-bye.
I hugged the last of the guys who’d been members of the gym and MMA community for years, gave a few are-we-gonna-hug-or-shake-hands shuffles to the newer fighters, and exchanged an awkward nod or two.
Then I turned to my dad and my brothers, and a fresh wave of tears hit me. I’d wanted my dad and I to repair our relationship, although I’d also done plenty to get in the way of allowing for it, and now I was out of time.
He pulled me into a giant bear hug, going so far as to lift me off my feet for a couple of seconds before putting me down. And holy shit, were his eyes misty, or were my tears making me see things?
He cleared his throat, so some kind of emotion was there, and I mirrored it back at him times a dozen. “You sure there’s nothing I can do or say to convince you to stay?”
In spite of everything, he wanted me to, and I supposed that in some ways, that was a victory in and of itself. I looked to Liam, who gave me an encouraging nod/smile combo.
“Sorry, Dad. I’ve got to do this. The exhibition could be the big break I need to get my art recognized, and my internship will help solidify my future in the art world, either way. I know you think painting is a silly hobby, but it’s important to me.”
I wanted him to contradict me, but he didn’t. Considering I’d wanted to end things with Shane on a good note, apparently I wanted a lot of impossible things.
“Good luck,” Dad said.
I’d take it. I glanced over my shoulder at the guy expending his energy by beating the shit out of the bag in the corner. Nothing for me to take there, except for how much I’d screwed things up with him.
You’re doing the right thing, you’re doing the right thing.
It didn’t exactly feel right, but once I settled back into my old life, away from the world I couldn’t keep myself from getting sucked into, it would. Right?
Finn scooped me into his arms next, and I did my best choke-hold, save cutting off enough air for him to actually pass out. “You better visit more,” he said.
“I will,” I promised, although it would be a while. I needed some space, or I might go thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to throw away my dreams and risk a maybe on an incredible fighter who was so different than I’d expected him to be.
Maybe…
No, I’m doing this for both of us. Without the stress of trying to make a relationship work on top of everything else, it’ll be easier for us to achieve our dreams, and this’ll save us a lot of pain and heartbreak down the road. I’m being strong for both of us. Even though right now all I feel is sad and weak.
I moved on to Liam, the big brother I had never thought understood me. Now I realized that in some ways, he did better than anyone else. After all, I suspected he let Chelsea go to follow her dreams, and that he would bend over backward to ensure that Dad, Finn, and even Shane could obtain theirs.
I hugged him tightly and whispered, “Thank you,” in his ear. Then I drew back enough to look him in the eye. “While you’re pulling all the strings and taking on all the stress for everyone else, don’t forget to take care of yourself. I’m not the only one who should get to follow their dream.”
I almost left it, but I couldn’t help myself. “And please call Chelsea. Just to say hi or whatever. It might help you be at least semi-bearable for these other guys to be around.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Couldn’t just let it go, could you?”
“It’s something I learned from my big brother.”
“Me,” Finn said, inserting himself into our bubble, so obviously he’d heard my advice.
With all the hugs doled out, it was time for me to go hop in my Mustang and drive off into the sunset. Metaphorically, of course, or I’d be driving into the ocean, and my car was a classic, not a submarine.
I paused for one last glance at the fighter still hitting the bag, begging him to look my way. Ironic, considering one of the reasons I was leaving was so that he wouldn’t get distracted during his training. So good to know he could, in fact, block me out if he wanted to.
My heart bled misery and pumped out more agony, and the way Finn squeezed my shoulder made it clear it showed. “Give it some time,” he said. “He’ll get over it.”
I nodded. That was what I wanted. Well, what I should want. It would mean I’d made the right decision. That I hadn’t screwed up a perfectly good relationship.
Not to mention the many other factors, like his career and my career, and if I didn’t seriously get out of here now, my mind would keep spinning on forever.
“Good-bye, everybody!” I practically screamed it so that the guy who refused to come over could hear it as well. “Make me proud. Kick some ass, win some fights, and know this girl’s cheering for you. All of you.”
The loud, supportive shouts of encouragement mixed with farewells lifted me up, buoying me enough to gather the strength to stride out of the gym, chin held high. I managed to keep going despite the fact that my heart ripped right in two the second I stepped outside. No matter what happened from here, part of my heart would stay here in San Diego, in that gym, with my brothers and my dad. With the cocky fighter I’d accidentally fallen in love with.
Good-bye, Shane Knox. I hope one day you’ll look back on me as the girl who loved you enough to let you have the career you deserve.
Chapter Forty-Six
Shane
“Where’s your head?” Liam popped my chin with his glove, a light tap that more pissed me off than anything. A week before the big fight, and as hard as I tried to focus on that and only that, my thoughts wouldn’t stop drifting to the woman who’d left me in the rearview mirror two weeks ago.
Since then, I’d been glad for the nonstop training that kept me occupied and exhausted, because the nights I spent alone in my apartment were downright pathetic. Everywhere I looked I noticed the absence of the girl who’d left a gaping hole in my life, and facing at least one member of her family—if not all three—every single day hardly helped.
Something softened in Liam’s expression, and that also pissed me off. I didn’t want pity. “Take a break,” he said, walking away before I could tell him I didn’t need one.
I yanked off my gloves, slumped into the nearest chair, and let my head knock back against the wall—okay, so I fucking needed a break. I needed more than that, but she didn’t live here anymore, and I was the bastard
who flew off the handle, said the wrong thing, and let her walk away without a decent good-bye.
I’d fucked it up. Call it a Knox classic.
The door of the gym opened, and my dumb ass looked, ridiculous hope bubbling up. It wasn’t Brooklyn, but it was the next best thing.
I raised my hand in a wave, and Hector came over and sat next to me—he’d been stopping by now and then, like some overprotective mother hen, and I appreciated the hell out of it, even though neither of us wanted me voicing that.
“How’s it going?” he asked. “You ready for Saturday night yet?”
“I’ve been ready for weeks. I just want it over with.”
He frowned at me. “Time to adjust the fucking attitude, or you might as well forfeit now.”
I clenched my fists. “Everyone’s riding my ass today.”
“Apparently they need to grab the lube and ride it harder.”
“I’m not above hitting you.”
“I’m not above hitting you right back.” Hector leaned in, and experience told me I wasn’t going to like the next words out of his mouth. “You call your girl yet?”
I gritted my teeth. Not this again. “She’s not mine.”
“Because you let her walk away, and you haven’t called her.” When he’d shown up at my apartment last week, taken one look at me, and asked what was wrong, I’d told him the whole story about how things had gone down with Brooklyn. He seemed to think that I should’ve confessed my love, like that would’ve made her stay. I took back being grateful for his visits.
“First you were worried she just hopped from fighter to fighter, and let’s not forget how you even outright asked me if she was really worth the risk, like it was a bad move, and now you won’t leave me alone about not taking one.” I rubbed a couple of fingers across my forehead. “It’s done. Over. We’re letting each other follow our fucking dreams.”
