“I fucked up, Ava. I know that. It won’t happen again. I’ll put a stop to their bogus marketing tonight. And on New Year’s Eve, just for you, I’m going to kick his ass and prove that you are my only girl. I promise.”
I know the fight will be hard—watching him fight, facing Layla, and dealing with whatever drama is thrown my way. Just thinking about it made me exponentially more tired than all the crying, drinking, and sunbathing I’ve done today.
Chapter 10
So after all his proclamations about how he knows he fucked up and he was going to make it better, I still woke up alone today. He knows I hate that.
I rested in bed and thought through the mess that’s been going on…how the last few days have been more emotionally tumultuous than the entire five months of our relationship. This week was the first time I ever questioned King’s feelings or intentions. I didn’t like it.
Before I got out of bed, I heard the elevator open and watched King walk into the bedroom with a box of Dapper Donuts and a latte in his hand. OK, he’s redeemed himself.
“Thought you could use some sugar this morning,” King said, while sitting next to me on the bed.
“Oh, you are so sweet! These look amazing.”
The box had a dozen donuts of three different flavors. There was no way I could eat them all and I knew he wouldn’t touch the donuts—he probably won’t eat anything like this until after the fight. So I picked a few that I liked the best and ate a few—still in bed—while we talked about our day.
“So, after you fell asleep last night, I contacted my lawyer. Overnight, his team sent cease and desist letters to Giorgio and his manager, and to the MMA site. They won’t be able to post lies anymore,” he told me.
“Oh, thank you!” I said, instantly feeling better. No more articles, no more bullshit for my friends to point out to me. That’s a good start.
“No reason to thank me; I did it for both of us. It may take a day or two to get everything finalized, but it’ll happen soon. I’m sorry I let this into our lives; just doing what I can to put a stop to it now.”
The cease and desist orders weren’t the only things that made me feel better; he talked me into spending the day with him.
He had things he had to do for the fight—mostly swimming, sparing, and jogging. But with our recent tensions, he really wanted me with him. He thought it was best that I see everything with my own eyes so I’d have nothing to wonder about.
Going to a gym as a bystander is not the most exciting thing for a girl to do, but I agreed. I’m not really in the mood to be without him right now, and I could use the time to read one of the many trashy novels I’ve been saving for a time like this. We both admitted that staying together would lessen the chance of us fighting again, so it was my goal to find a way to enjoy the day.
I still felt a little emotionally beat up by all of the chaos we’ve been through lately. So I planned to keep myself entertained during a nice and relaxing day of reading or watching movies with my man nearby. I wanted to reduce the stress I was still feeling and knew a book may not be enough, so I found a good movie to download as well.
I was sure to put on comfortable clothes since I’d be sitting for a few hours, but still wanted to make myself look somewhat decent before heading to the living room where King was waiting.
“I did mention we’re going to the gym, right?” he asked.
I stopped in my tracks and looked down at my outfit.
“Uh yeah, but it’s not like I brought gym shorts or anything. I’m not wearing heals, you know; I’m going to wear my Adidas.”
He smiled and shook his head. It’s not like I was wearing a prom dress, but I don’t have bummy clothes with me. I was just wearing jeans and a tank, but they’re skin tight True Religion jeans with bright white seams and a white low-cut silk tank top that hung loose. I know it’s a bit flashier than normal gym wear, but whatever. Sweats aren’t really my thing.
The gym was enormous and fairly crowded with people, most of them looked like fighters. I could see why the press grabbed onto Giorgio’s story—all these fighters have fantastic bodies, but their faces were a bit beat up. King and Giorgio’s faces were near perfect. I quickly scanned the room and spotted Giorgio with Layla tagging along, like a lot of other females hanging around the fighters. Great, now I feel like a groupie.
Layla had no aversion to gym clothes, obviously. I didn’t expect to see her here and was in no way trying to out-do her, but I could easily transition from the gym to a night out; she could not. Of course, her gym clothes had just the right amount of sex appeal—she had to look good for the cameras, right?
“Don’t let them bother you, babe. We’ll be over here,” King said, pointing at an empty area on the other side of the gym.
We walked to his workout area with his arm draped around my shoulders—we usually hold hands, but when I’m in flats it’s a bit awkward. A few guys came and said hello to King with a twinkle in their eyes. It seems that he is a bit of a celebrity even here, thousands of miles away from home. I sat down next to a table on the side of the room—the ring where he was going to spar was right in front of me and my back was to the wall. This is the most tucked-away spot in the gym and I was extremely happy for that.
On the other side of the table a fighter—who I assumed was going to spar with King—was taking off his sweats and getting ready to fight. King had already jumped into the ring and was warming up.
“Your boyfriend’s amazing,” the fighter said. “I learn something new every time I spar with him, but it always hurts.”
I smiled at him and wished him luck, then pulled up the book I wanted to read—I opted for a book over a movie because I wanted to be able to see and hear his sparing session at the same time.
King and the fighter started to spar and I watched them with admiration. They were going light, but King still looked vicious. He was ready for the fight tomorrow; I know it.
“Hey there, Ava.” I jumped when I heard the unexpected voice of Giorgio.
“What are you doing over here?” I snapped.
“Just came to check out the competition. He looks good. He won’t be able to blame his loss on not being ready, will he?”
“Get the fuck away from her, or the fight’s off and I’ll fuck you up right now,” King yelled at Giorgio in an intimidating, booming voice. Those around us stopped what they were doing and watched.
“Possessive, isn’t he?” Giorgio joked to me. “OK, save it for tomorrow. I was just saying hello.”
“Go take care of your own girl. And tell her to leave us alone. I’ll never want her,” King said.
Giorgio looked at him with a strange expression on his face. It looked like he didn’t believe King. It was like a “yeah, whatever” look.
I couldn’t tell if his expression meant King was lying, or if Giorgio was trying to pretend he didn’t know something. Either way, I didn’t like it. It also bothered me that I saw a cameraman across the room with his lens focused on us.
Before we even got back to the hotel a few hours later, pictures and articles of King and Giorgio’s brief interaction were online. Luckily, they were normal articles—no need to embellish this little event, but the article did imply that I was the third point in the triangle. I blew it off, and King and I joked about our newfound fame.
Later that night, my friends and I went out—again. King stayed at the hotel and got a massage, then wanted to swim in the indoor pool and hang out in the sauna. I tried to convince him to go to sleep as soon as he got back, instead of waiting up for me as I knew he would. So I agreed. King needed his sleep tonight; it’s the night before his fight.
The only way he agreed to not wait up was if I brought one of his security guards with me—like not just watching over us and driving us, but actually with us, to sit at our table, eat with us, and not leave my side.
I guess having Miko, Jude, Dylan, Magnus, and Kevin with me wasn’t enough. But I get it; none of our friends are hired to pro
tect me.
I found it strange that Miko wouldn’t stop flirting and leave my side—even to the point of pissing off Will, the security guard who was with us.
I was trying my best to not think of all the drama of this week, and to just have a good time with my friends. But I just couldn’t get away from it. Between Will hovering and Miko doing whatever-he-was-doing, I always had our drama on my mind.
So much so, that I probably had a little too much to drink. We were dancing a lot and having fun, but I know I was sipping on my drinks a little too heavily. Alcohol and teenaged angst don’t always mix well.
“So, how are you really doing?” Miko asked.
“Miko, I’m fine. I told you I was fine when I first saw you tonight, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. Just like I remember how you acted when you weren’t fine toward the end of our relationship; I’m sensing the same from you now.”
“Well, maybe you don’t know me all that well.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I do. Look, if you want to talk…”
“Thanks, Miko. I’ll let you know,” I said. I wasn’t trying to be cold, but I really didn’t feel like being the victim tonight. I’ve had enough of that this week.
But drama wasn’t done with me. Just as I was starting to have fun, Layla confronted me on the dance floor. How the fuck she ended up in the same nightclub is beyond me. And, of course, she was flanked with a cameraman and another guy holding up his iPhone filming us. It was intimidating and embarrassing.
”Well, hello, Ava. Having a good night?” she asked in a phony voice of friendliness.
“I was,” I answered, rolling my eyes.
“Do you know how pathetic you look in all of this? Just leave King alone and save yourself even more embarrassment,” she said with the snarkiest tone I’ve ever heard.
“Me? I think you’re the one who will look ridiculous as soon as everyone finds out these stories are all fake.”
“Fake?” she asked rhetorically, pulling out her phone. “I guess that’s what he’s telling you so you don’t spaz out before the fight. Does this look fake to you?”
She showed me a selfie on her phone of her and King. I didn’t know what to say; this one certainly didn’t look photo-shopped. These look authentic, but they can’t be. I’m sure if I had time to look closer, I would see the flaws.
“I see you’re a little tongue-tied. How about this to clarify things?” she quipped while swiping her phone. She held it up to me to show me a picture of King and her standing on a city street with his arm wrapped around her and kissing the side of her head—like he does to me all the time.
I was speechless, but I forced out the first thing that came to me. I couldn’t let the press turn this into a catfight that Layla won.
“This is all bullshit. You make up these stories and photo-shop these pictures just to make everyone think there’s more to this fight.”
“Oh you silly little girl. You can tell yourself whatever makes you sleep better at night. Or you can face the truth.”
Will positioned his body to the side of us, right in the middle of her and I, clearly ready to jump in if needed.
“King and I have no secrets.”
“Oh, so you do know about us, then? You know that we reunited the second you two landed in Vegas? He told me how he ran straight from the hotel, after he checked you in, to me—he couldn’t wait to see me. He can’t do your little suburban romance thing anymore; if he’s going to commit, it’s going to be to a real woman. You know that we’re going public the night of the fight, right? Assuming I pick him, that is.”
“What I know is that you’re lying through your teeth.”
She laughed full-heartedly, throwing her head back.
“You’d like to think that. Grow up, Ava. King is bored with playing around in the tot-lot; he needs a woman, and he wants me back. You didn’t really think you could keep his interest, did you? A man like that needs a challenge, and someone he can include in his professional life. I give him both.”
That hit me below the belt. My one insecurity with King is that he’d get bored of me and realize I’m too young for him. Is that actually happening?
I kept teetering between bursting into tears and attacking her. Pain and anger were fighting to take control; my conscious was fighting to not respond at all. And then she continued to pour salt into the wounds.
“It was so nice to be reminded of how hot his skin is, and how amazing he is in bed. It was like these last couple of years never happened; he and I molded together just as perfectly as we did back then.”
“I don’t believe a word you’re saying. I know King…better than you every will. And I know he wouldn’t touch your skank ass.”
My words came out as a defensive yell, gathering even more attention than we already had. And I couldn’t stop the floodgates that my yelling started. My body was shaking with rage as the images that her words painted appeared in my mind.
I lunged forward and pushed her back with all my might, but she didn’t move much—I immediately detected Will’s arms around my waist puling me back, and saw one of her camera guys’ hands holding Layla’s arms.
But that didn’t stop us from trying to rip each other’s throat out. The entire dance floor stopped to watch us while she shrieked at the top of her lungs.
“Keep telling yourself that, you little bitch. King’s done with you—he’s ready to move back to the big league. Just let him go.”
By the time she went silent the realization of the spectacle we made set in. I put a calm look on my face and stood straight up, pushing Will’s arms off me, knowing the cameras were on us. The last thing I wanted was a picture of me looking like a crazy person.
I was livid, and so hurt that I felt physically wounded. I couldn’t find coherent words to say, and I certainly was not going to get into a catfight with this woman on camera. So I pathetically turned and stormed off the dance floor.
I didn’t get more than ten steps away from her before tears started to pour out of my eyes. Will was pushing one of the cameramen away and yelling for him to back up.
Everyone in the crowd of people, which I was almost to the edge of now, was staring at me and whispering to each other. I felt like a circus act; the embarrassment drove the tears out even harder.
I don’t know what to believe, but everything she said made sense. King’s almost five years older than me; maybe he is bored of me. Just like I worried he would be.
And did he touch her? She had to be lying about all of that, at least about anything recent. But if they just had a one-night stand two years ago, how does she know things about him? How does she know he dropped me off at the hotel and left immediately?
“What’s going on?” Miko asked me, realizing that I was crying as I walked back to our table.
“Nothing. I don’t know…I just ran into that bitch, Layla. You know, the third person in the love triangle?”
“How? Where?”
“Here, on the dance floor. I have no idea how she knows I’m here—shit, maybe King told her. Who knows? But she said some fucked up shit. I just can’t get it out of my head.”
My head was spinning and the words were flying out of my mouth uncontrollably. My adrenaline was at full charge; my shaking hands were proof of that.
“We almost got into a fight, but Will and one of her henchmen stopped us. I’m so fucking pissed.”
“OK, let’s get out of here,” Miko said, standing up and taking my hand to lead me to the front entrance—I followed willingly. Will was on the phone, but followed us out of the club, giving us space and keeping an eye on the crowd.
I could barely see through my tears and was thankful that Miko was guiding me around the mob of people partying. When we got into the hallway, he asked where I wanted to go. I told him I just wanted to get out of here and he suggested that we go back to his room. Of course I said no—I just need time to work through this latest situation and I need to calm down enough for my hands to stop sh
aking.
I opted for the lounge that was right outside the club—we sat at a table in the corner. The conversation with Layla was echoing in my head. King did speed off the second we checked in to the room. And he’s been absent most of these last few days. How much working out can a fighter do so close to the fight?
And strangely, he seems to fill me in only when I find pictures or articles; what else is he keeping from me that I just haven’t found out about yet? It’s very possible that she’s not lying, I just don’t know how high that possibility is.
Miko asked me to explain what happened with Layla; I guess he thought I’d calm down by talking about it. I started to answer him. But as soon as I started talking, I realized that it was still too fresh. The tears weren’t quite gone yet; my eyes immediately welled over and tears continued to come. I still wasn’t comfortable—I need to get out of the public eye.
“OK, you know what? I do want to go back to your room. But are you sure you’re ok with that? I mean, I could ask Asli...”
“No, of course I’m ok with that. Let’s go,” Miko said while standing and putting out his hand for me to take.
As soon as my fingers touched his, I started crying harder. How pathetic is this? I searched for Will, finding him at the table next to us, but he was facing the opposite direction. For once, he wasn’t watching me like a hawk; rather, he was still talking on the phone and looking over the crowd in the nightclub—in the opposite direction of the lounge entranceway.
The lounge was mostly empty and I was sitting at a table with my friend—I guess that’s enough reason to think I’m going to be safe for a while.
I decided to not say a word to Will, knowing he’d get in trouble if I successfully snuck away, but really not caring at that moment. I want to be alone and far away from anything related to King. I told Miko to walk straight through the crowd so if Will started to look for me, I’d be hard to find.
Guys Like You: Book 5 of The Young and Privileged of Washington, DC Page 14
