by Loren, Celia
I sink down on the edge of my bed and angrily wipe a tear off my cheek. How dare he! He doesn't know the first thing about me, I insist to myself. Then why am I so upset? A contrary voice in my head demands to know. Prick. Asshole. Know-it-all, I think over and over, trying to drown out his words. I'm going to be perfectly happy at cosmetology school this fall.
My phone dings with a text and I take it out of my purse to see a message from Maya: So, how was the date?
I’d let Logan get so far under my skin just now that I'd almost forgotten about my date with Austen.
Chapter Nine
"Hm? What?" I ask with a frown as I snap my head up.
"I said, 'are you OK?'" Austen repeats, a quizzical look on his face.
"Oh, um, yeah," I reply, giving a little shake of my head. "Why?"
"You've been rubbing that same spot on the desk for a while now," he says, nodding down to my hand, still moving a paper towel in circular motions on the gym's reception desk. I stop as I look down at it.
"Got lost in my thoughts," I explain, giving him a shrug and a small smile. I was thinking about what Logan said to me last night. As much as I've been trying to forget it, his judgements keep tugging on my brain.
"What thoughts were—" he stops as Duke and the rest of the fighters ascend from the locker rooms, cleaned up and done with their training for the day. "See you tonight," he murmurs before breaking away from the desk to meet his dad at the front doors.
"Bye, Caitlyn!" Duke calls out, and I give him a wave as they head out. I cross out from behind the desk and head toward the right side of the gym, where all the normal weight-training and cardio equipment is. Harold will be here in an hour or so to relieve me, and I like to start him off with a clean slate.
I head around the machines picking up people's forgotten towels. There aren't very many people working out right now, as it's between everyone's lunch break and the after-work rush. But it never feels too hectic over here anyway. It's a no-frills gym, and it attracts low-maintenance people.
After I toss all the towels into the big bin by the steps to the locker rooms, I head toward the team's training area. They're usually good about putting away their equipment, but I just like to check. I stop in my tracks as I spot Logan still in the back of the space, hammering away at a punching bag. I turn around quickly, not interested in continuing last night's conversation.
"Hey!" I hear him call after me, and wince. "Hey, Cat!" he yells again as I continue out. With a sigh, I turn around and raise my eyebrows expectantly.
"Yes?" I ask imperiously.
"Want to learn a few moves?"
"What?"
"Self-defense moves," he explains. "I thought I could teach you."
I feel my blood boil as I start to walk toward him. "Oh, you thought you could teach me? Dumb, little ol' me? Well, here's something you could stand to learn," I say, planting my feet in front of him. "Manners! And not judging people! The reason I worry so much about making my mom happy is because she was miserable for so long. I've had to get ice packs for the black eyes my dad used to give her, so yeah, maybe I do put a happy face on things for her sometimes, it's really none of your business anyway!"
I turn on my heel as the last word comes flying out of my mouth. I can feel the tips of my ears burning as I head for the door once again.
"Hey, hey, wait," Logan protests, and I feel his taped-up hand grabbing my arm. I shake him off and keep going. He rushes around to cut off my path and puts his hands up, fingers spread wide. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said last night." I take a deep breath, feeling my anger draining away and being replaced by shock at how I just got in this muscular man's face.
"Well…" is all I can manage to say in response.
"I didn't know all that stuff about you and your mom. But even if I had, it still wouldn’t have been my place…I really am sorry," he repeats.
"Thank you," I murmur. He clears his throat, and we stand awkwardly opposite each other, each of us with our eyes on the mats.
"I was serious about teaching you self-defense, though," he continues. "I just thought, what if I hadn't been there during your birthday party? Not that it seems like you need work on standing up for yourself so much now."
"I guess I was pretty fired up," I admit, glancing up to see him smiling at me.
"That's good. Anger's a powerful fuel. Too many women are too polite to fight back."
"I should probably get back to the desk," I hedge.
"It's not that busy. And they know to just swipe their cards when they come in," Logan counters. I chew the corner of my lip for a second, and then shrug. I suppose it couldn't hurt to learn some moves from an expert.
"OK."
His eyes light up. "Great," he says, nodding to a mat behind him and indicating for me to follow him. "You'll never be able to subdue a larger or very determined attacker. All you need to do is get free for a second so you have time to run away."
"Alright," I say warily.
"Also, never get closer than you have to. It'll just make you more vulnerable. Better to kick him in the groin than get up close and try to get him in the neck. Do you know anything about Jiu-Jitsu?"
"I know that it's the stuff that looks like wrestling, and Raul teaches it."
"Right. Well, a lot of what it's about is staying calm and relaxed even when a guy's got a choke hold on you. Sometimes if I'm caught in a rear naked hold or something, Raul will just start describing a beach to me, trying to get me to picture myself there. It's annoying as fuck, but it works," he adds, grinning wolfishly. "So let's say a guy grabs you like this," he says, suddenly reaching out and grabbing my wrist. I swallow nervously as a ring of heat extends out from where he's touching me. "Your instinct is to panic and pull away, right?" I nod. "Stay calm, and use his position against him." He extends his other hand and taps my thigh. "Move this leg back. Get lower. Move your hand toward him instead of away."
I obediently bend my arm forward. He's right…it becomes impossible for him to continue to hold onto my wrist, and he has to let go. He smiles at me as he straightens up. My stomach flutters, and I will it to stop.
"Good," he says. "Now do it again."
Twenty minutes later, I realize that Logan has no intention of this being a survey course. But I suppose I should have guessed that about him. We still haven't progressed from the first move. He forces me to practice it again and again, telling me I have to know it in my body so that I can do it under extreme circumstances.
Finally, he nods. "OK, we'll come back to that one later. Now, let's say an attacker comes up from behind you." He wraps an arm around my shoulders, turning me around and pulling me against him roughly. But then he stops. I wait for him to tell me how to get out of it, but he's silent. I become very aware of his heart beating through the back of my rib cage, the smell of his sweat, and the feel of his taut muscles relaxing against mine. I start to close my eyes.
"Hello?" someone calls from the reception area.
"Yes! Sorry, be right there!" I call back as I jump away from Logan, who lets his arm around me go slack, releasing me. "Pick up again another time, OK?" I ask him as I hurry back to the desk. He nods without saying anything as he watches me go.
"Sorry, just need to renew my membership," the man at the desk apologizes.
"No worries," I tell him as I hear the sound of Logan hitting the bag again.
When Harold comes to relieve me half an hour later, I don't see Logan anywhere. He must have left when I went down to the locker rooms. On the drive home, I feel myself nervously chewing on the side of my lip. Logan makes me so mad, but…but…something.
* * *
That night, I lie in bed, waiting for the rest of the house to be quiet. Ever since I came up to my room after dinner, I've been itching to see Austen. Today was just so frustrating and confusing, and all I want to do is press my body against his. That's it. Maya texts me, but I ignore it. Finally I hear my mom and Duke's door close, and Logan finish his nighttime bat
hroom routine. I wait ten more minutes and then quietly walk to my door.
I tiptoe down the steps and around to the basement door. I pause for a moment, hearing the TV on down there, but decide not to knock. I'm feeling punchy, and just want to go for it. I open the door and quietly close it behind me, then walk slowly down to the basement. As I turn in from the stairwell, I see Austen lying on his black leather couch, watching a sports news show on TV. Suddenly, I'm nervous.
I stand at the bottom of the steps for a moment, watching the TV's light flicker across his relaxed face. He looks so calm, so completely unencumbered by any external pressures. I let my eyes trail over his closely cropped hair, his straight nose, his sensuous lips, then down across his collarbone to his shirtless torso. One arm is tucked behind his head against the armrest, and his bare feet twitch slightly where they're sticking out of his sweatpants at the other end of the couch. I run my hand under the hem of my tank top and then step forward.
"Hi," I say quietly as I walk toward the foot of the couch.
He glances up quickly and smiles as he sees me. "Hey. I didn't hear you come in. Can't sleep?"
"Didn't really try, to be honest. Weird day."
"Yeah? Wanna talk about it?"
"No," I reply. "Mind if I join you anyway?" He doesn't say anything in response, just moves over a little on the couch and opens his arms. I smile, feeling my stress recede, and walk over to him, curling up next to him as he lays his arm over me. I feel his warmth against my back and take a deep breath, letting the sounds of the TV wash over me. "How did you know you wanted to be a fighter?" I ask suddenly.
"Thought you didn't want to talk." I elbow him gently in the ribs and feel him grin against my hair. "Um, I dunno. My dad got me into it really early on, and I turned out to be good at it."
"That's it?"
"Does it have to be more than that?"
"No, no. Of course not."
"What's on your mind, Cat?" he asks, taking my hip and turning me toward him.
"It's nothing," I reply shaking my head.
"Alright," he replies, eyeing me suspiciously. "Oh, I almost forgot. I got you something."
"You got me something? Why?" I ask, smiling as he swings a leg over me and stands up.
"For your birthday," he explains over his shoulder as he heads into the bathroom, returning with a bouquet of roses in a glass vase.
"You didn't have to do that," I tell him as he places them on the coffee table in front of me.
"I wanted to. I've actually never gotten flowers for a girl before."
"Really? Or are you just flattering me."
He laughs. "No, honestly! I didn't bring them upstairs for obvious reasons, so if you want to see them you have to come down here and visit me."
"So they're bait. I get it," I reply teasingly, tugging on his sweatpants so that he sits down next to me. He runs his hands up my thighs, spreading his fingers wide as I shiver under his touch.
"I want to take you out again. Dinner. Somewhere nice," he says, leaning in close and placing a quick, soft kiss on my lips.
"OK. I'm not, you know, fancy. I mean, you've already got me in your bedroom," I point out, returning his kiss.
"That's not why I want to take you out," he replies, continuing our game with another kiss. "Besides, I don't want to rush anything with you."
"If you're implying that I came down here tonight just to have sex with you, then I am insulted, sir," I say indignantly, placing another, slightly longer kiss on his soft lips.
"I can tell," he replies, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and pulling my body against his. My breasts pillow against his pecs as he kisses me, hard, his tongue exploring my mouth as I meet it with my own. He pulls away abruptly, and I blink rapidly in surprise. "But I've rushed things with girls before, or pretty much always, and it never ends well. I was starting to think Logan had the right idea, but I don't think I could ever take that route."
I frown. "What do you mean?"
"He never dates at all. Says girls are a distraction from training."
"Oh." I feel a strange sense of disappointment in my stomach, as though it matters what Logan does in that area.
"Now you get out of here before I change my mind," he growls, giving me a quick slap on the butt. I squeal and jump to my feet and head over to the staircase. "Wait, I changed my mind!" he calls after me.
"Too late!" I laugh, and hurry up the stairs, closing the door behind me. He's right, though. I think if I'd had sex with him this early on, I would have regretted it, too. I head through the foyer and then up to the second floor.
As I close my bedroom door behind me, I spot Logan's book on my bed. Weird. I know I gave it back to him. I pick it up, frowning. I was wrong, this isn't Logan's book. Or rather, it's the same book, but a different copy. This one's brand new. I open the cover and find an inscription on the title page: This one's yours to keep. Happy Birthday. Logan.
Chapter Ten
"Two belated birthday gifts in one night. That was nice of Logan, though," Maya comments as she lies on my bed, holding the book in her hands.
"Right. I mean, you don't think he's…"
"Interested like that? Well, Austen said he doesn't date, right? So he's probably just being friendly."
"Right. Good. That would be way too complicated."
"Yeah, poor you. Living in a house with two super-hot fighter dudes and maybe both of them like you. So tough," she teases me, rolling her eyes.
"OK! Jeez!" I laugh, stretching my leg out from the armchair to kick her.
"Ow!" she protests as I make contact with her thigh.
"Yeah, I've got moves now."
"Uh-huh," she replies doubtfully.
"Girls?" my mom calls from downstairs. I stand to open my door and reply.
"Yeah?"
"You want lunch? I got cold cuts!" I turn questioningly to Maya, who nods.
"Yeah, be right down!" I start to head through the door when I see Maya take out her makeup bag and begin to apply lip gloss. "Seriously? It's just lunch."
"Hey, not all of us are so naturally blessed, alright?" she replies as she puts away her lip gloss and brushes powder onto her nose. "OK, ready," she announces as she stands. We walk out into the hallway and almost bump into Logan at the top of the stairs.
"Hey, Maya, how are you?" he asks, almost formally. I raise my eyebrows at him, wondering if he took my calling him out on his manners to heart.
"Um, I… good," Maya replies, immediately clamming up around him.
"Good," he answers, then gestures for us to precede him down the stairs.
"Thanks for the book," I murmur quickly as I pass him, conscious of the fact that our parents are waiting in the kitchen for us. It's a rare Saturday when we're all home at the same time, and I wanted Maya to come over to see everything I've been describing in person.
Austen, Duke and my mom are already helping themselves to the spread laid out on the kitchen counter. Austen turns as we enter and smiles quickly at me.
"Maya, right?" he asks, turning to her.
"Maya," she repeats, and I throw her a quizzical look. She meets my gaze, shaking her head at herself in embarrassment. "Good to see you again," she finally adds, recovering a bit.
"You see Akulov's nasty elbow last night?" Austen asks his younger brother.
Logan nods. "He's a beast. It's that Muay Thai training." I watch Austen's eyes flick over to his father, who stiffens slightly.
"Well, all I know is I'm glad I don't have to fight him," Austen says, and I have a sense he's trying to change the subject, though from what, I'm not sure.
"He's a featherweight, right?" I ask quietly, and five pairs of eyes quickly turn on me in surprise. "Hey, I can't spend this much time at the gym without picking up something."
Duke laughs. "Very good, Cat. You're right, he's a featherweight. Don't think either of these two will ever face off against him, but I bet they could take him anyway." His phone buzzes in his pocket and he reaches for it, ba
lancing a stacked sandwich on a plate in his other hand. Maya and I grab plates as his eyes glaze over as he looks at his phone. Suddenly, he lets out a bark of excitement, startling everyone in the room. "I knew it! I knew this was coming."
"What's going on?" my mom asks warily.
"The AFF is holding a tournament in Denver to scout for new talent. Winner gets a guaranteed contract with them," Duke announces. I see Austen and Logan's faces light up. "Light heavyweight division. This is your shot!" he continues, pounding Austen on the back.
"Oh, shit! When!?" Austen exclaims, trying to read his Dad's phone over his shoulder. Logan quietly places his plate on the counter and backs away into the hallway before turning up the stairs to his room, his dad and brother completely unaware of his exit.
"Two months. That's perfect timing. All our hard work is finally going to pay off," Duke says.
"This is fantastic!" my mom crows, clapping her hands excitedly. Maya glances at me with a confused grin, only partly understanding what all the fuss is about.
"I'll explain later," I murmur.
"It's gonna be old-school, sixty four competitors in matches spread out over only two days. I've gotta call Raul," Duke says. "We'll come up with a training regimen, put it in place immediately. We also need to get started on studying up on the possible competitors. Don't want to encounter any unknowns. Logan can help you with that. Where is he?"
"I think he went upstairs," I volunteer.
"Anything we can do to help?" my mom asks. Duke surprises everyone by wrapping his arms around her and planting a kiss on her mouth. I don't think I've ever seen such a display of affection from him before. "Duke!" she protests, blushing.
"Not right now, but I'll let you know," he replies, releasing her. "C'mon, let's go call Raul," he says to Austen, and the two of them head out to the backyard. Maya, my mom, and I watch them for a moment as Duke starts to speak on the phone, Austen bouncing around excitedly next to him.
"It's good to see you so happy, Joanne," Maya says. Maya and I have been best friends since we were ten, so my mom's almost like a second mother to her.
