Rush (The Beat and The Pulse #9)

by Amity Cross

  “You cold?” he asked.

  “Yeah, a little.” I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, attempting to soothe the goose bumps that had prickled over my exposed skin.

  He draped his arm over my shoulders, pulling me close. I sank against him, inhaling his scent.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  We sat, watching the water lap at the shore and listening to the sounds of music floating from The Esplanade Hotel behind us.

  “What’s next for you?” I asked.

  “What’s next? What do you mean?”

  “Tuesday we both have to go back to reality,” I replied. “I have to go back to work and deal with the post-Hunter fallout. All fun things.” I rolled my eyes. “What about you?”

  “Back to training…and waiting,” he grumbled.

  “Waiting for your fight?”

  “I’ve been waiting for my first pro fight for almost six months,” he said, sounding frustrated. “It’s gotten to the point of ridiculousness if you ask me. Out of all the fucks out there, there’s no one who wants to fight me.”

  “Why?”

  “Who knows. Politics.” He shrugged. “I would fight an established guy, you know, but it seems like there’s no room for me at the moment.”

  “That sucks…” I said lamely. “To work so hard, but…”

  “Be blocked right when everything should fall into place.”

  The analogy didn’t escape me. Our lives were so different, yet there were startling parallels. We’d both been derailed in more ways than one. Him with his career, me with my engagement.

  “What happened to you after high school?” I asked, burying my fingers in the sand. “You just…disappeared.”

  He glanced up at the sky, his brow creasing. “It’s a long story.”

  “We have time,” I prodded gently. “Sunrise is still a way off.”

  His arm fell away from my shoulders, and he seemed to shrink away. Had I really been such a bitch to him back then? He was a guy I’d known, a friend, but he’d said I had used him to tide myself over until Hunter had come crawling back. Knowing it, stung. All that time and I’d never realized.

  “After… I didn’t go to university. I barely graduated high school,” he began. “Deadbeat, deadshit, good for nothing…”

  “You’re not like that,” I complained. “You’ve made something out of yourself. You’re—”

  “Lucky,” he interrupted. “I dodged a bullet.”

  I frowned, my heart aching. Somehow, I knew the bullet was more than bad grades and scant employment opportunities.

  “I struggled for a long time,” he went on. “But things are good now even though I complain about getting a fight. It could be worse.”

  “Yeah,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  Glancing at me, he sighed. “Here. Lay down beside me.” He flopped back onto the sand and gestured for me. “Don’t be a pussy, J.”

  The air lightened between us, and I curled up beside him, not caring I was getting sand all over my designer cocktail dress. I nestled into the crook of his arm, and we stared up at the lightening sky, counting stars as fast as they disappeared.

  “Number four, check,” Ryan murmured.

  “Yeah,” I replied, not understanding why I felt so empty. “Check.”

  12

  Ryan

  Rolling over, I fisted my hand into the sheets and pulled them closer.

  Sometime after sunrise on the beach, Jade and I had made it back to my place and collapsed into a heap. Fumbling for my phone, I flicked it on and saw it was just before lunchtime. I hadn’t slept this late in years, and my body was kicking me up the ass for it.

  Sliding out from under the sheets, I scratched my balls and stared out the window. Jade was asleep in the next room, my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and all I could think about was her body next to mine. On the dance floor, on the beach, beside the water slide, on the back of the Harley.

  This entire week had been explosive in more ways I could count. This was what my life could be like with her. What a dangerous thought.

  I needed to go for a run to clear my head.

  Rubbing my hand over my face, I grunted and reached for my shorts and a loose tank top. Shoving my feet into my trainers, I grabbed my keys and phone and went out into the lounge room.

  Jade was curled up on the couch, dead to the world.

  Her hair was tangled and frizzy, her makeup was smeared, her singlet was twisted around her middle, her legs were pulled up into the fetal position, and her arms were askew, one hanging over the edge of the couch and the other resting underneath her cheek. She looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge backward, but I still thought she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. I didn’t have the heart to wake her.

  Instead, I grabbed a pen and paper from the junk drawer in the kitchen and wrote her a note. Sliding it onto the coffee table, I left, locking the door behind me.

  Downstairs, I turned right, jogging down the side street and onto Church, starting my usual five-kilometer circuit around Richmond and the fringes of Abbotsford.

  After all our adventures this week, nothing had dissuaded me from my lingering feelings for Jade. Nothing. I’d gotten to know her, who she was now, and she was still the same underneath all the fancy clothes and high-flying job. She was still the same, and so was I. Only this time, it was much worse.

  Watching her discover things she’d never experienced had me enamored…and hard.

  Watching her skip around my apartment in her singlet and knickers, with no bra, killed me.

  Knowing she was rebounding from that douche canoe, Hunter Ballinger, made things a whole lot worse.

  Knowing I couldn’t touch her was torture. It wasn’t right or fair.

  I kissed her once, at the bottom of that stupid water slide, and at that moment, I knew I’d never gotten over her.

  Yeah, she could be shallow and completely selfish without realizing, but underneath all that was a person with the potential to be real.

  My feet pounded on the concrete as I wove through the streets of Melbourne, trying to work her out of my system. She would be gone soon enough, and I would be left behind.

  Jade had ruined me once and didn’t even know it. She would ruin me again if I let her, and this time…it would be forever.

  13

  Jade

  The sound of the front door opening and closing finally roused me from my fitful sleep.

  Opening my eyes, I saw Ryan creeping into the apartment. He was dressed in his running gear, and I began to feel like a fat, lazy slob.

  “Where’d you go?” I muttered, peeking up at him.

  He paused and glanced at me. “For a run.”

  I stared at his sweat-soaked tank top and damp skin and curled up my nose.

  “You’ve been asleep this entire time?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “I suppose. I’m not used to staying up so late.”

  “I left you a note,” he said, nodding toward the coffee table.

  Seeing the piece of torn notepaper on the coffee table, I picked it up. It read, Gone for a run. Back soon. Fiddling with the note, I studied his messy handwriting as he disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, the shower turned on.

  I was still staring at it when he emerged.

  “Do you want something to eat?” he asked, opening the fridge.

  “Yeah, that would be nice. I’ve got to shower first, though.” I ran a hand through my hair. It was stiff with hairspray and frizzed to the extreme. I probably looked like I’d stuck my finger into an electrical socket, which was a totally sexy look. Straight of the runway at Fashion Week.

  “Good thinking,” he said, his voice muffled from inside the refrigerator. “You look like you’ve been through the ringer.”

  “Ugh!” I exclaimed, attempting to comb my fingers through my hair. “You’re the one who took me to the beach while I was half drunk, thank you very much. I’m pretty sure I’v
e got sand in places where there should never be sand.”

  “My poor couch.”

  Pouting, I climbed out of my makeshift bed and gathered some clean clothes. Stroking my cocktail dress from the night before, I smiled softly to myself before slipping into the bathroom. This week had really had been an eye-opener. It would be sad to see it come to an end when we both went back to reality on Tuesday.

  After a heavenly soak in the shower, I felt a great deal better, and when I finally emerged in a waft of steam, Ryan had just finished making a giant omelet. Where he’d whipped up the ingredients was beyond me. I’d thought his fridge was empty.

  “And he cooks,” I declared, standing beside him at the stove. “You’re the complete package, Ry.”

  “It’s just an omelet,” he replied with a grunt. “Chuck everything into a pan. Cook it. Flip it. Done.”

  I peered at him, sensing something was a little off about him this morning. Thinking about our adventure last night, I knew I was a little drunk, but I hadn’t crossed any lines. Well, any I knew of.

  “Are you okay?”

  He turned and smiled. “Fine. Are you okay?”

  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, and you know it.” I waggled my finger at him. “How are you so…”

  “Awake?” His tone was clipped, and the uneasiness grew. “It’s the training.”

  I frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re a little grumpy.”

  “Stop being so paranoid,” he said with a huff. “I’m fine. Late night, booze. I’m not used to it, either, you know.”

  Not entirely convinced, I shrugged, watching as he divided the giant omelet in two and dished it up on the waiting plates.

  “Dig in, J,” he said, dumping the frying pan into the sink and turning off the stove.

  We sat at the table where a pair of glasses and a carton of orange juice was waiting. It was a fancy organic kind, not the ones that were full of processed sugars and additives. Not only was Ryan a ripped fighter, he was a master of nutrition, too. Remembering he’d told me professional MMA had weight classes, I suppose he had to be on top of his food to keep his body in that kind of shape all the time. It was more involved than I realized.

  We ate in silence for a while, the omelets he’d whipped up tasting pretty fine. It danced across my taste buds, and healthy never went down so smoothly.

  “The last bucket list item,” Ryan said after a while. “Have you decided what it is yet?”

  Frowning, I thought about it. I thought about it so hard I almost popped a vein in my forehead.

  “No,” I replied after a while. “I have no idea.”

  “Seriously? There’s nothing you want to see or do or taste or…”

  “I suppose I’ve always wanted to go to Paris, but that’s a different and more costly kind of adventure,” I said with a smile.

  “Maybe you can do that one day.”

  “Hmm…maybe.”

  We had two days left. Sunday and Monday. I rubbed my thumb against my ring finger absently, thinking over my options. That’s when I realized I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring.

  “Shit,” I cursed, my heart flip-flopping in my chest.

  “What?” Ryan asked, straightening up in his chair.

  “My ring,” I replied, patting my pockets like it would be in there. Fat chance. “It’s gone.”

  Ryan watched me as I began to have a full-on meltdown. It was a twenty-thousand-dollar ring. Diamonds, rose gold, the works. It was motherfucking Tiffany & Co! Trying to remember the last time I’d seen it, I couldn’t pinpoint it.

  “When was the last time you saw it?” he asked, watching me closely.

  “I was at work on Monday, I took it off…but I put it back on.” I flapped my hands, fanning my face.

  It must’ve dropped off someplace. Scraping the chair back, I pushed into the bathroom and dumped out the contents of my makeup case. Placing everything back inside, one by one, I soon saw it wasn’t there. Getting down on my hands and knees, I searched the floor under Ryan’s sopping wet towels but still came up empty handed.

  Rushing out into the lounge room, Ryan watched me with a scowl as I upended my suitcase and shook out every item of clothing, even flapping my underwear all over the place.

  “It’s not here… It’s not anywhere…” I was becoming hysterical, my head spinning.

  “Jade, settle down. I’m sure you’ll find it.”

  “You don’t understand…” I cried, on the verge of tears.

  We’d been a million places. It could’ve fallen off anywhere. Over the edge of a hot air balloon, for instance. Fuck, it could be in the stomach of a giraffe for all I knew. It had probably been stewing in its stomach acid, then went on a gondola ride through its bowel, glided through its intestines before passing through its giant asshole. My diamond Tiffany ring was probably lying in a big steaming pile of giraffe shit right now.

  “Yeah, looks like I don’t,” Ryan shot at me. “It’s a fucking engagement ring that asshole gave to you.”

  I stared up at him from the middle of my pile of clothes. “What the fuck?”

  “I know it hasn’t been very long, Jade, but the way you’re acting…” He shook his head, his scowl intensifying. “I’m beginning to think you’re gearing up for a boomerang maneuver.”

  “A what?”

  “It was the same all through high school, you know. One minute, you were on, the next, you were off. It’s only a matter of time before the circle completes itself again.”

  My mouth fell open, and I rose to my feet, my hands balling into tight fists.

  “You take that back!” I shouted. “This isn’t the same! We weren’t broken up when I found him with that woman! He was the one who cheated! I saw him, Ryan! I saw him fucking her!”

  Ryan didn’t break eye contact when he said, “You’re broken up now.”

  “We are! And this time it’s for good!”

  His lip curled, and he nodded toward the chaos I’d created in my search. “Then why do you care so much about his ring?”

  Nausea overcame me, and I pressed my palm against my stomach. It was a twenty-thousand-dollar ring… Hunter would expect it back, wouldn’t he? That was why I needed it, right?

  “It’s… It’s…” My mouth flapped uselessly.

  “Do you want to go back to him?”

  I was stuck. Frozen. Confused. Torn.

  “He stood there…” I began, my throat tightening. “He stood there… His cock was still hard and covered in her… He stood there and didn’t give a fuck. He stood there and threw me out of my own home!”

  Ryan snorted.

  “Don’t,” I said. “Don’t…”

  “Don’t what? Confront you with your heart’s desire?” He rolled his eyes.

  My heart’s desire? I stared at him, tears welling in my eyes. I didn’t know what that looked like anymore.

  14

  Ryan

  “Do you want to go back to him?” I asked again. “It’s a simple yes or no, Jade.”

  Jade was staring at me, her eyes full of startled confusion. Whatever was going on inside her head was a mystery, but it must be some epic back and forth.

  I couldn’t take this shit anymore. She never knew… All this time, I’d been hung up on her, wanting more and never being able to have it, and she still didn’t realize the effect she had on me. I was wrapped around her little finger all those years ago, and I was still wound around her. Our week together had only served to entwine my heart with hers tighter than ever.

  The problem was, she was blind to it. Blind to me. Why couldn’t I just tell her and be done with it? Oh yeah, if she didn’t feel the same, then she would be gone forever, and I wouldn’t have her in my life at all.

  Did I really want her in my life?

  “You just don’t get it,” I said angrily. “You’ve never gotten it!”

  “What’s there to get?” she asked. “I’m a mess, and apparently, I’ve always been like it. Fucking clueless, obsess
ed with the wrong things, the wrong people… I’m a big fat failure! You try coping with having your entire life’s work flushed down the toilet!”

  “Hunter was your life’s work?” I scoffed, curling my lip. “That’s not shallow at all!”

  “You don’t get it, either!” she screeched, our argument getting completely out of hand, faster than any punch-up I’d had with Cole over the years. It was spreading like wildfire on a day of total fire ban.

  “Then explain it to me, Jade. Explain it.”

  “My friends hate me, Hunter hated me to the point he cheated behind my back, and I’ve worked my entire life for this…” She spread her arms wide. “Homeless, dumped, overworked, and underappreciated. By everyone.”

  “Fuck you,” I said angrily. “Fuck you very much.”

  “I didn’t… I didn’t mean…” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You…”

  “It’s far from over, Jade. It’s a shame you don’t see it. Fuck your ring.”

  “The ring has nothing to do with Hunter. Nothing.” She was seething, her eyes full to bursting with a fire I’d never seen in her before.

  “Then why do you care about it so much?”

  “It’s a twenty-thousand-dollar ring…”

  “It’s not about the money,” I retorted. “And you know it.”

  “How would you know?” she asked, scowling at me. “You’ve only been around a few days. How do you know what my life is like?”

  “What I know is that you’ve been more alive in these past few days than in your whole life.”

  “I suppose you think that’s all because of you? What do you want from me? A fucking trophy?”

  I felt rage pooling in my stomach, and my heart jackhammered wildly in my chest. Of all the stubborn, headstrong…

  “Tell me!” she yelled, her hands balling into fists. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

  Striding across the room, I thrust my hands into her hair and caught her mouth with mine. My lips were hard against hers, and when she beat her fists against my chest, I hardly noticed. After a blistering moment, I eased the pressure of my embrace and pulled away, gasping for breath.