Revived

by Tia Lewis

  "This isn't healthy," Tony said as I walked down the stairs in disgust. "Grief can drag you down man, take you away from the living."

  Throwing the gloves in my bag, I grabbed my shirt and shrugged it over my chest. "I've been dealing with it this long; I can handle it."

  "Yeah, sure," Tony said as he walked down the stairs and shut the cage, the clanging of the metal reverberating in my mind. "You look like you can handle it."

  I growled and looked at him. "Just get the hell off my back about it."

  Tony held up his hands, concern on his face. "Fine, whatever you want, Travis. Just know I'm here if you need anything."

  He walked away, and I grabbed my shit, not bothering to put my sweatpants back on over my shorts, shoving my feet into my shoes before walking toward the door. First Julia, and now this. I hadn't walked her to the bakery like I normally did, leaving her at the apartment to deal with it herself, if she so chose to do so. Throwing out Nicole's name like that at me last night had been more than I had wanted to deal with, not going back to the apartment until I was sure she would be in bed. I didn't want to face her, though I knew she had every right to lash out at me. I had unfairly judged her relationship with the asshole who was now putting her in danger and should apologize. It would be the right thing to do after all. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know what she had been saying, or who Nicole was to me.

  My phone rang, and I answered it without looking at the number. "Hello?"

  "Travis."

  I closed my eyes. Hearing Nicole's mom's voice on the other line was not what I needed today. "Mrs. Matthews."

  "Corine. I don't know how many times I have to tell you to call me Corine, Travis."

  "Yes ma'am," I said. She would always be Mrs. Matthews to me. She had treated me like a member of their family, even before Nicole and I got serious, even letting me bunk in their basement for days until I was able to get my shit together and leave for parts unknown. I couldn't step inside the townhouse that we had shared after her death, letting them pack up and sell the place, while I had been traipsing around the globe, attempting to deal with my grief. I owed them everything.

  "Travis, I was wondering if you are going to the cemetery tomorrow and needed a ride."

  I stepped outside before I answered, the cold biting on my bare skin. I had been so busy with the club and with Julia in my life, that the anniversary of Nicole's death had snuck up on me. Every year I went with her parents to her grave, where I would listen to them weep over their lost daughter and grandchild, the entire time beating myself up for being the reason she was no longer here on this earth. Though they had never said it aloud, I knew they blamed me. "I'll meet you there," I finally said, not wanting them to come get me.

  She said her goodbyes, and I pocketed the phone, realizing that the bakery was closed, the place dark. Hell, it was the weekend. No wonder I hadn't heard from Julia today.

  Shouldering my bag, I walked to my apartment, opening the door and was assaulted by the smell of something spicy in the air. Julia was in the kitchen, pots all over the stove as she hummed to the music blasting from her phone, a knife flying over the cutting board. Her hair was pulled up onto of her head, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a tank top that outlined her body nicely. She was in her element, and I couldn't ignore the shiver of heat that trailed through my own body as I watched her work, the sway of her hips to the music causing my cock to jump at attention. I didn't want to be attracted to her; I wanted her ass out of my life as soon as possible. She was getting far too close.

  Chapter Twelve

  Julia

  I dumped the mushrooms into the pot and set the cutting board aside, letting out a small smile as the sauce started to simmer nicely. With it being the weekend, I was not due at the bakery and figured after my debacle with Travis the night before; I was best to stay home today. But I had left long enough to go to the market and get the ingredients to make a big pot of spaghetti, figuring both of us could use a home cooked meal. It was more like extending an olive branch to Travis, and I could only hope it would work.

  Turning around, I was startled to find him standing a few feet away. "Hey," I said, taking a sip of the beer that was sitting on the island. "I didn't hear you come in."

  "What are you doing?" he asked softly, his eyes following my every move.

  I gave him a nervous smile as I set my beer back on the counter. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm making spaghetti. I figured, I mean I owe you a good meal." I owed him way more than that, but this was a start.

  He looked at me for a moment before dropping his bag and walking over to the island. "Give me one of those beers."

  I inwardly let out a sigh of relief as I reached into the fridge and grabbed a bottle, popping the top before sliding it across to him. Travis took a long, healthy swallow before setting it back on the glossy top. "I want to apologize for what I said last night."

  Well, that wasn't what I thought would come out of his mouth. "No, I should apologize. I didn't mean to throw shade at you like that."

  He sighed and wiped a hand over his face, looking exhausted. "Nicole, she was my fiancée."

  I turned back to the stove so he couldn't see my face fall. "Y-you don't have to tell me this."

  "No, I do," he interrupted. "She died in a car accident three years ago."

  Oh shit. I really had done something bad then. Turning back, I saw the pain in his eyes and felt my heart lurch in my chest, wanting to just gather him into a big hug and tell him that I was so unbelievably sorry. I felt like the lowest of the low. "I'm so sorry; I didn't know."

  He waved his hand at me, silencing me. "No one really knew. We kept our lives very private, not wanting to have it blasted in the media. I was on top of my game, and every small tidbit of my life was subjected to scrutiny."

  I leaned against the counter, rubbing my arms with my hands. "Still, I was wrong in my word choices."

  He nodded, his mouth upturning into a small smile. "So was I. Food smells good."

  I smiled then, my heart still in pain for the man in front of me. He had been through something horrible, the thought of someone I loved dying in such a horrible way, taken from me without the chance to say goodbye. It had to be painful, even after all this time. There was a small piece of me that was jealous, that his love had worked out while mine had fallen apart, been a lie. "Trust me, it will taste as good as it smells."

  He chuckled. "Confident are we?"

  "Very," I answered, turning back to stir the sauce. "You've never had my sauce before."

  I heard him stand and swipe his beer off the counter. "I'm going to take a shower first. You need anything?"

  I felt a shiver of heat run through me at the open-ended question. I needed a great deal, namely another hot kiss from him, but he had just opened his heart to me, letting me know that he was still in love with his dead fiancée. I couldn't compete with that. "Um, no, I'm good."

  His footsteps faded out of the room, and I blew out a breath, covering the sauce and starting the water to boil the noodles to keep myself busy and not on Travis naked in the shower. My phone buzzed, interrupting the music and I looked over, seeing a text from Kevin blinking on the screen. Great. Just what I needed. I picked up the phone and read the message. Meet me tomorrow at the mall. We need to talk.

  I swallowed hard, knowing that I shouldn't. I should just ignore his text, gather my stuff and take what little money I had to get back to California. I wanted to be done with this mess Kevin had gotten me into.

  But I was going to meet Kevin. I was going to tell him to leave me the hell alone and to deal with this mess himself. I was done, through, finished.

  An Hour Later

  "So?"

  Travis pushed back his plate and patted his stomach, a satisfied grin on his face. "Okay, you have every right to brag. That was perhaps the best spaghetti I've ever had."

  I pushed back the chair and picked up my plate, reaching over to gather his as well. "Told you."

  He la
ughed as I walked to the kitchen and dumped the plates in the sink, feeling rather full of myself. Travis had looked more like himself after his shower, the black cloud that had been hanging over our heads from last night now all but dissipated. I was glad. I was already fighting with one man in my life; I couldn't handle a second one.

  I felt him before I saw him. Travis slid next to me at the sink, reaching for the pots that I had used to cook with. "Let me clean up."

  "No, I made the mess," I said, the smell of his soap winding around me. "No chef leaves their mess behind for someone else to clean up."

  "I insist," he answered as I reached for the pot. Our fingers touched, and I pulled mine away immediately, feeling the spark at the light touch. "Give me the pot," I said softly, looking up at him. His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable and I sucked in a breath, feeling the heat between us. Now that both of our secrets were out in the open, there was nothing holding either one of us back. I didn't know which one of us moved first, but his lips were on mine, and I was pulling him closer, wanting more of him, much more. His tongue swept in, and I moaned low in my throat, my tongue starting the dangerous tango with his.

  His hand clamped the back of my neck, and I found his, winding my arms around it, my fingers trailing over the tattoos that licked up the side of his neck. I wanted to taste them, taste his salty skin under my tongue.

  "Shit," he muttered against my lips, the evidence of his arousal pressing against my stomach.

  "Shh," I said, pulling him into the kiss again. I didn't want to think how bad of an idea this was. I didn't want to think at all.

  He growled and kissed me harder, pressing me against the fridge as his hands found the edge of my tank top and slid underneath, grazing the soft skin of my stomach as he inched his touch higher. I kissed him desperately, my own hands brushing over his strong shoulders and then down his chest, itching to touch his warm skin with my fingers. When his hands touched my breasts, I gasped in his mouth, his thumbs brushing over my aching nipples, stoking the fire higher. His lips tore from mine and started on my neck, nipping and teasing as his hands molded my breasts inside of my bra, my hands finding the edge of his shirt and sliding underneath, colliding with his impressive form. Through the haze of need, I could feel him working down my neck, flirting dangerously close to my collarbone while one of his hands left my breast and slid down my stomach to the waistband of my pants. I was wanton, pressing against him, not wanting to be denied. I needed Travis's touch to wipe out Kevin's. I needed to feel again, with someone who was hiding no secrets from me.

  Travis left me so quickly that I thought I had done something wrong, putting a great deal of space between us. I looked at him and saw the confusion on his face, replacing whatever heat had been there. "What?" I asked softly, my body still humming from his touch. "What's wrong?"

  He looked at me, regret mingling in with the barest hint of desperation. "I can't do this."

  I sighed and ran a hand over my face. "Yeah, well I get it." Pushing away from the fridge, I gave a nervous laugh. "Just next time you kiss me, you better mean it. I'm tired of being played with." Turning away from him, I started on the dishes, wincing as the door slammed behind me. I was tired of this hot and cold from him. I was tired of being here. I was tired of being me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Travis

  The Next Day

  I swallowed hard as I approached the familiar grave site, folding my arms in front of me and feeling as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Corine looked back and gave me a small smile, reaching for me and pulling me into a warm hug. "It's so good to see you, Travis."

  "You too," I forced out, catching the eye of my old trainer. He looked older than I had remembered, the gray now moving into the dark hair on his head. "Chester."

  "Travis," he said as Corine released me so that I could shake his hand. "You're looking good. Keeping in shape?"

  I nodded. "Getting back into the cage in a few weeks."

  "Good for you," he said, releasing my hand. "It's past time son, past time. Nicole would never want you to give up fighting."

  I didn't answer. I hadn't given it up when she needed me to, and now I was paying the price. Corine gave me a little push toward the grave, her lower lip trembling. "We will give you a few minutes alone with her."

  I walked up the hill and stared down at the marker, seeing Nicole's name etched on the granite. It still was surreal, seeing her name, knowing that she was buried six feet under, rotting in the pale pink casket her parents had picked out for her. Even after three years, the hurt still as sharp as it was that day. "Hey Nic," I said, my voice coming out hoarse. "It's Trav." The wind rustled around me, and I sighed. I wasn't much of a religious man, but I could feel her presence around me with the wind blowing like that. "I miss the hell out of you. I hope you and our kid are enjoying those streets of gold." A tear fell out of my eye, and I ignored it, the grief welling up inside my chest, making it hard to breathe. "It's so damn hard without you, Nic."

  "It's hard on all of us," Corine said softly as she wrapped her arm around my waist, hugging me close. "I miss her every day."

  I took in a breath. "I'm so damn sorry. It was all my fault."

  Chester laughed harshly, the emotion in his voice. "Son, it wasn't your fault. I don't know how many times we need to have this conversation, but Nicole made her own decisions that night. You were a fighter; she understood that."

  I shook my head, my cheeks wet with tears as I stared down at her marker. "I told her to come."

  Chester chuckled, placing a hand on my shoulder. In all the years we had been coming out together to honor her anniversary, we had never had this conversation, too wrapped up in our own versions of grief. Despite where I was or what I was doing during my sabbaticals, I had never missed this visit, flying back just for this day. But we had never discussed the actual events of the day, never. "Son, you might have told her to come, but we both know Nicole wouldn't have done it unless she wanted to. It was a tragedy, but you have got to quit beating yourself up about it. It's time to move on."

  I thought about last night, the way I had felt guilty about having relations with Julia which had ultimately ended very badly. She had been right. What I was doing was confusing the hell out of us both. This wasn't an easy decision for me, not at all and I was scared. Hell, I was scared to death of putting myself out there again.

  I looked at the young kid that was across from me, grinning as his cocky smile belied the fear in his eyes. After leaving the cemetery, I had come to the gym, the need to hit something fierce. Benji had been excited to hear that I was on board with the fight and had given me this asswipe before me, some up and coming fighter that he had been working with. Now all eyes were on this cage to see if I still had it.

  I slammed my gloves together and placed my mouthpiece, nodding to my opponent before starting to dance around the cage, the familiar feeling of anticipation flooding my veins. All of my training slammed into me as I watched his movements, moving close to throw a punch. It was off the mark, but that was my intent. He traded one with me, connecting with the upper part of my cheek. I stumbled a bit, but my grin grew wider as I felt the cheek slice open, the pain a welcome friend. He went for the roundhouse, and I caught his leg, throwing him to the ground before covering him, my punches going to town on his sides. The sound of the gloves slamming against his skin driving me forward. Hell yes, it felt good to bash his face in.

  "That's enough!"

  I heard Benji's voice yell out, but I kept pummeling, falling into a familiar rhythm before I was pulled away and thrown onto the mat. Tony's face swam before me, a worried expression on his face. "Dammit Travis, he's done!"

  I spit out my mouthpiece and watched as they attended to the still form on the mat, my pulse pounding in my head, my hands hurting under my gloves. It was then I realized that I had lost control. Shit.

  Tony yanked me to my feet and helped me out of the cage, his hand clamped on my shoulder as he walked m
e directly to the locker room, throwing me a towel. "You're fucking bleeding."

  I stripped off my gloves and pressed the towel to the cut on my cheek, feeling the skin starting to swell. Tony ran a hand through his hair roughly before looking back at me, his eyes full of concern. "What the hell is wrong with you? He's not a professional."

  "Shouldn't have put him in the cage with a madman then," I growled, wincing as I felt the cut pull and stretch. "Is he hurt bad?"

  "You fucking knocked him unconscious," Tony shot back before sighing loudly, looking tired. "He'll be fine, but he will remember you for weeks the way you were wailing on his ribs."

  I winced. I hadn't meant to hurt him that badly. "I'll cover his bills."

  "Damn right, you will," Tony answered, falling hard onto the wooden bench. "Shit Travis, tell me you haven't lost it."

  I sighed heavily and threw the towel into the bin, falling next to him on the bench, flexing my hands. "I'm good. I, it's the anniversary."

  "Damn," Tony said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "You should have told me. We wouldn't have put you in the cage today."

  I shrugged off his touch, thinking of how this morning had gone. It was clear that Nicole's parents had moved on, and didn't think it was my fault that their daughter was dead. But I still chose to beat myself up on a regular basis, because of my participation in her death. I didn't know what to believe anymore.

  "Don't get pissed at me," Tony continued as I put my head in my hands. "But it might be time to move on, Travis. You've beat yourself up enough over her death. It's tearing you apart."

  "I know," I admitted. "I just miss her so damn much."

  Tony laid his hand on my shoulder again, and this time I didn't shrug it off. "I know man. I can't imagine losing Hannah. She's my world. I live and breathe her from the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep at night. But there was a time I thought I had lost her, and it scared the hell out of me. We've all been there, but it does no good to keep it bottled up inside."