by Amity Cross
“Yeah, I know.” I stared at the plate, feeling awkward.
We fell into an uneasy silence for a while before our food arrived. We talked a little about our favorite music, which Seth seemed to be quite passionate about, our favorite movies, all the simple getting to know you things. I found myself staring at him, wondering what wasn’t clicking. I took in his features, which were quite handsome, but his eyes were a steely grey where Ash’s were a brilliant green. They seemed to change all the time. Dark, light, flecked with shards of hazel, but ultimately green. I liked green, it was a very earthy color.
“Ren?”
I blinked hard. “Sorry, what?”
Seth chuckled. “You still with me? Where’d you go?”
Shit, I was off fantasizing about another man. I didn’t tell him about that, though. What kind of person would that make me?
“Um,” I stuttered. “Sorry?”
“S’okay,” he said, peering at me. “How’s the food?”
I piled up a fork and shoved it in my mouth like a horse and his eyes widened. I gave him the thumbs up. All he did was grimace and glance away. Way to go Ren, total lady.
Groaning internally, I stared at my plate, mentally bashing my head against a brick wall. This had to be the most awkward date in the history of the world. I had such high hopes all afternoon. I bought this dress and shoes…and I spent the whole time thinking about a man who didn’t want me, a man who kept playing me for a fool. Yet here I was seated across from a sweet guy who genuinely wanted to get to know me.
What the hell was wrong with me?
We ate in silence until the waiter came back for our empty plates.
“So, you train at Beat?” Seth asked.
Thankful for something solid to talk about, I replied, “Yeah. Not for anything special. I like learning.”
“Fighting?”
“Yeah, MMA.”
“Mixed Martial Arts?” Seth’s eyebrows rose.
I nodded. “It’s tough, but it’s really quite artful in a way.”
“Remind me never to cross you, then.”
“Duly noted.”
Seth glanced at his watch before shuffling nervously. I was having a tough time trying to read what was going through his head. Was he nervous because he wanted to ditch me? I’d want to ditch me. I had baggage up to the eyeballs, a dead mother, an asshole father, another man in my thoughts…
“Do you want to go?” I asked, wringing my hands underneath the table so he couldn’t see.
He shrugged. “If you want.”
Trying to disguise the hurt at the date falling flat, I smiled and nodded. “Okay.”
I went to pay for my dinner, but Seth waved me away and handed over the cash for us both. As we walked out to the tram stop, my traitorous thoughts started to wonder if Ash would pay, or if he’d try and wrangle a way for me to shell out for us both.
We rode the tram squished together in a corner, Seth’s arm around my waist to steady me against the movement of the rickety old number eight tram. It took us all the way up the residential end of Lygon Street and back towards Brunswick. His palm settled on my waist and my shoulder pressed into his chest. It was all a little boyfriend girlfriend and I should’ve felt something at the fact he was being all protective and holding me in such an intimate way, but there was nothing.
I squashed down my disappointment as the tram rumbled along, stopping at intervals to let people off. When our stop came, we jumped back down to earth and walked down toward Sydney Road.
“I didn’t realize you lived near the coffee shop,” I said to break the silence.
Seth went to take my hand, a subtle move, but I saw it coming and casually wrapped my arms around my stomach.
“Yeah,” he replied, shoving his hand in his jeans pocket. “I share with a couple of guys a few blocks away.”
“Oh, nice. I live right near Beat, so you’re in my neighborhood.” I laughed, but it came out sounding a little thin.
Soon, we were walking down Sydney Road and passing the coffee shop and relief washed over me. Hesitating at the corner, I said, “I go this way.”
“I’ll walk you,” Seth declared. “It’s no problem.”
Suddenly, I didn’t want him to know where I really lived. He’d ask questions and living in a closet wasn’t the answer I wanted to give him.
“Oh, it’s okay. It’s like a minute away.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
I wasn’t quite sure if I was meant to walk away or say something else, so I stood awkwardly, waiting to see what Seth would do. Maybe I should’ve walked away because he stepped forward, sliding a hand over my waist. He moved in, going for a kiss and my heart started to jackhammer. It was more panic than lust and at the last second, I turned away, his lips connecting with my cheek.
Awkward.
“Okay, so goodnight,” Seth said, his brow furrowed. He stood back, breaking contact and I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to understand that I’d just hurt his feelings pretty bloody bad.
“Thanks for dinner,” I offered lamely.
“No problems.” He gave me a little wave, taking a few steps back before turning on his heel and striding down the street.
Shit.
Beat was dark when I stuck my key into the lock. After Seth left, I practically ran down the lane to distance myself from…that thing…that almost kiss that didn’t do anything to excite me.
It felt nothing like the times Ash had kissed me. No fireworks, no moisture or pussy clenching. No nothing.
I locked the door behind me and punched in the alarm code. God, I was such an idiot.
I found another kind of disappointment rising at the fact that Beat was empty. I wandered across the studio toward the stairs, trying to decide if I wanted to train or just call it a night and sleep it all way. Maybe I’d wake up and realize that that terrible date was all a really silly dream. Yeah, I’d sleep it away.
Stopping half way between the door and the stairs, I finally noticed Ash sitting on the bench, the sweat on his back sparkling in the moonlight. My heart skipped a beat and I felt like banging my head against the wall. He’d been here training without me, that much was obvious, but lurking in the dark?
He was peering around his arm, watching my every movement like he was waiting to pounce unawares. When I stopped, he sat up straight.
“What are you doing here in the dark?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I suddenly felt exposed in my dress and fancy shoes. More exposed than I did in a pair of shorts and sports bra which showed off way more skin. Work that one out.
“I wanted to train,” he said, his deep voice booming in the silent studio.
“In the dark?”
The space stretched open between us, the distance amplified by the blackness.
Ash grunted, standing. Despite being so angry at him, I kicked off my shoes and padded across the mats toward him. He stepped into a pool of light shining in from the skylight and that’s when I realized his face was messed up. Like, really messed up. Blood had trailed from his eyebrow down his face and onto his chest and had been smeared into his hair.
“Ash,” I hissed. “What the fuck? You’re bleeding.”
He shrugged.
God, he was so annoying. I thought I’d had a taste of self destruction in the days directly after Mum passed away, but this was a whole new level. He wouldn't have gone out and gotten into a fight because I went out with another guy, would he? The idea seemed ridiculous. Like I deserved the honor.
“Sit down,” I ordered, shoving him back toward the bench. I slid into the kitchen and pulled the first aid kit off the wall. I’d known some stupid men, but Ash took the cake.
When I came out, he was sitting on the bench, elbows on his knees, head sagging. With a sigh, I flipped on the back row of lights and went to join him. Sitting beside the idiot, I cracked open the kit and fished out a couple of antiseptic wipes.
He glanced up at me and in the light it looked
a hell of a lot worse than I first realized. His eyebrow was split, it didn’t look deep, but it’d been a bleeder. The blood had dried and was flaking on his skin as if the simple notion of washing hadn't seemed to have crossed his mind.
When the hell had this happened? When he was at that magical alternate reality that he disappeared to every night? It had to be.
“How'd it happen?” I asked, dabbing the cut in his eyebrow with a swab. He didn't even flinch when the alcohol seeped into the open wound.
He shrugged. Fuck, I hated his shrugging. It was his answer to everything, like a petulant little child. I pressed the swab into his cut a little too hard and he winced.
“Did you get beat up on purpose?” I asked. Give me an answer, any answer.
“Not exactly,” he murmured.
“But you’ve been out fighting?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” He didn’t have a pro Championship to train for, he could fight whomever he wanted. But why would he just go out and fight random guys for kicks? Something wasn’t adding up and Ash didn’t seem the kind of guy that did anything at random. His thoughts were calculated, all of them.
He started grinding his jaw. Probably deciding what lie to tell me.
“Does she like it rough?” I spat.
“Fuck, Ren,” Ash cursed, leaning closer, eyes blazing. The cut and all the dried blood only made him look fiercer than usual and my heart sped up.
“Do you realize how much I want to beat the absolute shit out of you?” I asked, shoving the swab back into its packet, trying not to get caught in his web. Too late.
“I'd like to see you try.” He chuckled, leaning even closer.
“You won't tell me where you go, you won't tell me why you train, you won't tell me why you come back here every night,” I said, worrying the hem of my dress. “Give me something else, then.”
“Like what?”
I glanced up into his green eyes and my breath caught when I realized how close he was. “Who are you?”
“What do you mean?” he whispered.
Our noses brushed and it would’ve been so easy to lean forward and press my lips to his and make him give me what I’d been hot for for weeks, but I wasn’t so sure it was what I wanted anymore. Even after that terrible date with Seth. The date you spent fantasizing about the man right in front of you.
Shit.
Ash’s gaze dropped to my mouth, asking a silent question and I jerked backward, turning away.
“I’ve gotta go,” he murmured, his voice full of an emotion I didn’t want to acknowledge.
I couldn’t bring myself to speak, let alone look at him, so I nodded and started shoving everything back into the first aid kit.
“Ren?”
Automatically, I glanced up into his eyes and my breath caught. He’d pulled his shirt back on and shoved his feet into his shoes. So, he was really going then. Why was I so disappointed?
“Thanks,” he said, pointing to his eyebrow. “For that.”
I smiled thinly, hugging the first aid kit against my chest. “You’re welcome.”
Scrambling to my feet I padded across the studio and into the kitchen so I didn’t have to sit there and watch him walk away…again.
A small voice chimed in the back of my head. You shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum. You should’ve just let him do whatever he wanted and then he’d been sleeping next to you tonight. Maybe he would kiss you again.
But I was fooling myself. I wanted all of those things, but it was nothing without the ‘more’. I didn’t just want more. I needed it. I needed someone. I needed Ash…but did he need me?
Chapter 22
Ren
Ash and I had called yet another truce, but who knew how long this one would last.
I thought back to last night, the awkwardness between Seth and I, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He was such a nice guy, definitely not complicated in any way. He was sweet, held doors open for me and asked questions he genuinely seemed interested in hearing the answers to. Shit, he answered them, too.
Watching Ash as he pushed open the outside door and sauntered in like he was king of the ring, my heart skipped a beat. That was the thing I was hoping for last night. It was the thing that was missing. The racing heart, the tingling skin...the need my body felt.
“What happened to your face, dude?” I heard Lincoln exclaim as Ash took his place out in the studio.
“None of your fuckin’ business,” he drawled as he shucked his shirt off.
Yep, asshole Ash was on the prowl today. Rolling my eyes, I decided to sit this one out in the gym. I’d forever be asking questions where he was concerned and never understanding any of them.
“Ash,” Dad called out, “phone.”
Lost in thought, I was only half aware I was staring. Ash picked up the portable from the wall and pressed the button to answer. Turning away and breaking the spell, I took the opportunity to escape into the gym while the beast was distracted. There was no way I was dealing with his dramatics today.
I'd just gotten to the door when Dean pushed past me, a panicked expression on his face.
“Shit,” he hissed.
There was an ear splitting crash, followed by shattering glass and I spun on my heel to see a chair and shards of mirror fall to the floor. Ash stood seething, his entire body coiled in seek and destroy mode. What the hell had happened in the space of two minutes?
Dean sprinted across the mats, but was too slow as Ash started on what could only be described as a rampage. He flung the bench, smashing it into the mirrors, cracking even more glass. He flung medicine balls and dumbbells and when he couldn't get a hold of anything, his hands fisted into his hair.
He wasn’t a bull in a china shop. He was a nuclear bomb.
Dean grabbed him from behind as Dad thundered down the stairs at the commotion, but Ash was too strong for him. He threw the Twin like he weighed nothing, making him fall flat on his ass.
Monica was in the doorway of the kitchen, staring on in horror as Dad came forward trying to calm the beast before he did more damage.
“Ash, calm down mate. What's wrong? Let's talk this out, huh?”
Ash turned at the sound of his voice and for the first time since he'd snapped I saw his face and it was like he wasn't there at all. He looked vacant. The Twins had warned me that he had an anger issue, but stupidly I never thought it was quite like this. I'd disregarded it as hearsay.
Was this why he was kicked out of pro? He had one of these...episodes? Was he too great a risk to take on, or had he hurt someone when he wasn't himself?
My heart raced in my chest as Ash stepped toward him, fists clenched at his sides. If he decided to punch, he'd put Dad in hospital with a single blow. I didn't like the guy that much, we'd never really worked through all our baggage, but I couldn't let Ash flatten him.
I stepped out of the gym and slunk across the mat toward the two men, my heart firmly lodged in my throat.
“Ren, stay back,” Dad exclaimed, holding the flat of his palm out at me.
Ash's gaze snapped to mine and it was empty. It should've scared me more than it did, but I wasn't the same Ren who'd walked into Beat almost three months ago. I wasn't the same Ren who'd let the world walk all over her.
Ash and I had shared something all those nights we'd trained together. I didn't know what it was to him, but every night since he'd slept over, it was like I'd been a part of a place that he found solace in. Maybe it would be the thing to bring him back now.
I let out a shaky breath and took another step forward. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I had to try something. I couldn't see anyone cracking out a tranquillizer dart, so what else was there to do? Get the cricket bat?
I held up my hand, stilling my movement. “Let me try.”
Dad swallowed hard and nodded. He didn't have a choice and I wasn't asking for permission. Turning my attention back on Ash, I inched forward and blocked out everything and everyone else.
He stared at me, chest heaving and eyes unfocused like he was on pause. The moment I did something he didn't like it would be game on and I'd better be ready to run or stand and fight. My heart thumped erratically in my chest, but I didn't back down. I couldn't.
“Ash,” I murmured and his jaw started to grind like he was waging an internal battle. “You wanna take a beat?”
He jerked forward a step and Dad went to grab me, but I held up a hand.
“What's going on?” I asked, not taking my eyes off him. “I know you don't like to talk, but shit. Did you have to smash the mirror?”
His mouth opened and closed as he struggled with whatever demon was unleashed inside of him.
I held out my hand. “Ash. Please.”
His entire body coiled like he was going to strike and I rushed forward grabbing his face in my hands.
“Don't,” I whispered as his hands clamped down on my waist. It was risky on my part, but it was a risk that paid off as his expression started to melt.
Ash half slid and half fell to the mat, taking me with him. Oblivious to all the eyes trained on us, I stroked his face as beads of sweat trickled down his skin. Yeah, I was kinda worried he'd forget I was right there and go for round two, using me as his next accessory to mayhem, but one look into his emerald eyes and there was no way I was moving.
My legs were tangled through his, his taped hands clutching at my thighs, his chest heaving with exertion...
“Time to hit the showers, Maverick,” I whispered so only he could hear. I didn't know where that came from, calling him that, but he nodded, his grip loosening. Suddenly, I remembered the photo upstairs. He did look a little like a young Tom Cruise in Top Gun. Maverick suited him, the cocky bastard.
Ash hauled himself to his feet, his whole demeanor exuding exhaustion. He was running himself to the point of no return, with training every day, going wherever it was he went afterwards, then coming back to train with me. He might like to think he was a god, but he was only human like the rest of us. I had no idea what was going on with him, but I knew what a death wish looked like.
Glaring at everyone, who were still standing around staring as us like I’d sprouted a second head, I gently pushed Ash toward the showers. I had every intent on following and making sure he came out in one piece, but Dad grabbed my arm as I passed, stopping me mid-stride.
