by Ellie Danes
“You make those boxers look amazing.” I smiled and tried to get out of my head and just enjoy the moment. But it wasn’t working.
“You make nothing look even better.”
He reached for me and kissed me passionately. It was enough to make me see that I could really get caught up in this guy. Get caught up in how he made me feel. And that was enough to make my decision for me.
“I really should get going,” I said, pulling away. “I have to get to the room and shower and get ready to go to dinner with Annette tonight.”
I saw the disappointment cross his face, but he released me and looked away. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to want to stay here with him so much. I needed to get out of his room and get him out of my head as soon as possible.
“I don't want you to feel like you have to leave. In fact, I really want you to stay,” he whispered as he kissed the top of my head.
“As much as I enjoyed myself, this shouldn't have happened.” It hurt to say it, but it was the truth.
“Sometimes rolling with the punches is the only way to go.” He smiled down at me.
“I get that, Ryder, but seriously, this isn't me, and I am not a play toy.”
“I never said you were.” He stepped back from me.
“Please don't make this harder than it has to be. I had fun, and you were amazing, but I can't do this right now. Thank you for making me feel wanted and so many other amazing things.” I reached for my dress and prepared myself mentally for my first ever walk of shame.
“Can we at least talk about this?” he asked. “I mean, this isn't exactly great timing for me either, but shouldn't we at least talk about what we might be able to handle?”
“There really isn't anything to talk about. You have to train and travel, and I can't compete with that, plus you’re going to be in Vegas for a while and I'll be in New York.”
“Wow, so that’s it? Ya know, that sounds like a cop-out if you ask me.”
I didn’t have a response.
He turned and walked across the room, picked up my sandals, and handed them to me. “Well, I guess this is it, then. Thank you for yesterday and today,” he said, the friendliness gone from his tone.
I grabbed my shoes from his hand and put them on. “Thanks, Ryder.”
Then I left his room, letting the door close behind me.
I walked to the elevator and made my way to my much smaller room. I was relieved when I opened the door, and the room was empty. I grabbed some clothes and locked myself in the bathroom, turned the water to scalding, and stood there letting the water rush over me as tears began to fall from my eyes.
Why the hell was I crying over a man that I had known less than twenty-four hours? He may have been everything I didn't need, but he was also everything I wanted. He made me feel things that I had never felt, but he wasn't part of my plan. How could I ever have a relationship with a man like him? The water trailed down my overly sensitive skin, and I cringed thinking about how he felt inside of me. Everything was right, but it was also very wrong. I pulled myself together and washed him away from my skin.
After I was dressed and had my makeup on, I walked out into the room and found Annette and Rick fighting over the TV.
“I don't want to watch those stupid fucking housewives,” he said, his voice raised.
“And I don't want to watch that stupid football highlight show,” she yelled back.
“Hey, guys,” I shouted, and they both turned to look at me. Annette looked embarrassed even though they fought all the time. Maybe the sex was that good, I thought, and it made me think about Ryder. Damn him.
Chapter Nine
Tristan
“How in the hell does this shit even happen?” I shouted into the phone.
The junior agent on the other end babbled excuses and I struggled not to explode. Just another day running my own agency.
“Well, I suggest that you get it fixed.” I pulled the phone from my ear and pushed the disconnect button.
“You okay?” Amy asked as she ran her fingers up my chest. Our relationship was still new, and no one knew about it, but that was how she wanted it. Me? I wanted her. And she was all I wanted. I rolled over and pinned her to the bed.
“With you in my bed, I am always okay.” I leaned down and kissed her. She didn’t know it yet, but she was the only woman that had ever been able to hold my attention and make me want to wife up. I shoved her panties aside and pushed two fingers into her wetness, and my fucking phone rang again. She groaned, and I wanted nothing more than to ignore it. But with some of the things going on with new contracts, I had to take it.
“Yeah?” I grunted into the phone.
“Hey, Tristan? This is Ryder. Can we set up some time to talk?”
My mood immediately perked up. I hadn’t expected him to call so soon. “Yes, absolutely. What would work for you?”
“I'm flying back to Connecticut tomorrow,” he informed me.
“Okay. I'll give you a call tomorrow and we can make arrangements to meet with you and your father on Tuesday if that works.”
“It will. Thanks,” Ryder said and then he disconnected without a goodbye.
“Who was that?” Amy asked as I laid the phone on the bedside table.
“Ryder Rollins. He wants to talk,” I answered with a satisfied smirk.
Chapter Ten
Ryder
I stared at the man in the bathroom mirror, trying to make sense of it all. How had something so great gone so wrong, so fast? She was amazing and our time together had been fantastic, but for whatever reason, she pushed me away after the best sex I’d ever had.
I racked my brain, trying to figure out what I had said or done to make her head for the hills. As much as I hated to admit it, I was disappointed.
Part of me wanted to message her and try to see her again, see if I could change her mind, but was it worth it? My body said yes, but my mind said no. Why chase her when I had a buffet of women to choose from?
She was right—I didn't need that kind of distraction. Hell, maybe she was doing me a favor. Especially since I was acting like a teenager who thought he was in love and that was not who I was. I was Ryder fucking Rollins, and I was a fighter. I wanted nothing more than to hold the title, and a woman would do nothing but screw that up. My dad had told me to keep my eyes on the prize, that life and a family would come later.
I’d just gotten caught up in a good fuck. I should let it go, but I wasn't so sure I could. There was only one way to push it out of my mind. I had to get pissed off. That meant I needed to hit shit.
I gathered my gear and headed to the gym.
The entire time at the gym, I struggled not to think about what I would be doing had Zoey not left. I pushed myself to the point of exhaustion, and when I left the gym, I wanted nothing more than to shower, crash, and never hear from or see Zoey Marous again.
* * * * *
I ordered dinner the moment I walked into my hotel room and then I jumped in the shower. I had barely dried off and pulled my gym shorts on when the food arrived. I dug in and was thoroughly enjoying my steak when my phone chimed with a text message. I reached for the phone to see if it might be Dad. It wasn’t. In fact, it was the last person I had expected.
Just wanted to apologize for the way I left earlier. For the record, I enjoyed spending time with you. Thank you for that.
I gave a hollow laugh. Dropping the phone back down on the bed, I tore back into my steak. I wasn't going to dignify her text with a response. It wasn't worth it. I had said what I needed and wanted to say, and she blew me off. I was moving on. I was mad, and I needed to be mad for a while. It dawned on me that maybe this was how women felt when I blew them off. It kinda sucked.
I made a mental note not play with women the way I had in the past. I didn't want anyone to feel like I did right now. Damn. When I had become such a pansy? One woman had brought me to my knees in less than twenty-four hours—shameful.
I tried
to shake her from my thoughts. Didn’t really do any good to beat the hell out of anything and everything at the gym to get her out of my head if she was just going to wriggle her way back in. I needed something to get my mind off of her. Picking up my phone again, I called my dad to tell him about the meeting.
“Hey, son, how are you?” he asked immediately.
Normally I talk to him right after a fight, but last night he’d tried to call while I was still decompressing in the locker room. Because of the time difference, it was pretty late on the east coast, so he texted that we’d talk today. But I’d been a little distracted and hadn’t called him back until now.
“I’m good, Dad. Sorry I didn’t call this morning.”
“You probably slept ’til noon, didn’t ya?” he joked. He knew me too well. “I have to say I’m proud of ya, son. The fight was excellent. You went right for his weakness and took him down. I hate I wasn't there to see it.”
“Thanks. I hate you weren’t here too. It was unreal, and the crowd was electric. Absolute craziness. Curtis helped me get ready and took care of everything for me, as usual.”
“I'm glad he was there,” Dad replied.
“I have a question for you.”
“Okay?” His tone changed to the one he has when he’s a little worried.
“Tristan Thorne approached me about signing with his agency. He thinks that as quickly as I am coming up, I might want some representation. I wanted to include you in this because you take care of most of my stuff and I know you tend to have a better head for it than I do.”
“We can hear what the man has to say,” Dad replied.
“I have a contract here that he had drawn up. He wants us to have a lawyer look over it to make sure there isn't anything we should be concerned about.”
“I've heard about him. Doesn't he represent that football player? Drake Mathison?”
“Yeah, that's him. He wants to put an MMA division together in his company. He already has Chad Banks on board, so maybe it's worth at least sitting down with him.”
“Okay, fax me the contract. I'll take it over to Sam and have him look it over.”
“Yeah, give me about fifteen minutes or so.”
“You got it, son. Did I mention I'm proud of you?” he added.
I chuckled a little. “Yeah, I think you might have. I’ll text when I’ve sent it so you know to look for it.”
We said our farewells. I hung up the phone and grabbed the contract.
A few minutes later I was punching buttons on a fax machine in the business center of the hotel. I knew Dad would try to handle as much of the paperwork as possible for me, and it eased my mind.
Just as I stepped out of the business center and turned, I saw them walking toward me. I tried to turn the corner, but her friend called out to me. I was often an ass, but not so big of an ass that I was going to blatantly ignore someone.
Zoey cringed as they got closer.
“Ryder! Are you coming out with us tonight?” Annette asked. “You said earlier you would!”
I wanted to look at Zoey. I wanted to know that she was as uncomfortable with this as I was. Instead, I made myself focus on Annette while I responded. “I’m exhausted from my workout this afternoon, but thanks.”
I couldn’t help it—I glanced over at Zoey and saw her flush. The dig had done exactly what I had intended for it to do.
“But if you come along, then Zoey won't be alone,” Annette whined.
“I’m fine, Annette,” Zoey interrupted and reached for her friend to pull her away.
“I just thought we could double date.” Annette smiled up at me.
“I don't think Zoey is up for dating, so I'll pass,” I said, then quickly turned and walked away, my long stride eating up the lobby until I was around the corner and waiting for the elevator.
Well, at least I knew she wasn't talking to her friends about me. That chick had no clue what had happened today, and I was okay with that. I made my way back to my room to start packing, since I’d changed my flight to leave a day earlier.
In the twenty minutes I was gone from the room, I had received an email from Tristan letting me know they would be in town and available anytime on Tuesday. I called my dad again and let him know that I was going to set the meeting up for lunch. After packing my stuff, I wandered down to the bar, where I grabbed a stool to watch some sports highlights and have a beer. I people-watched for a while and tried to enjoy my last night in Vegas.
Mostly, though, all I did was fight the visions of Zoey Marous that kept flashing through my head.
Chapter Eleven
Zoey
I hadn't expected to see him again and it made all the feelings I had managed to sort out get all jumbled up again. I wanted to run after him and apologize, make things right, tell him I was willing to see where things might go. But at the same time, I knew I was setting myself up for heartache. I had too much going on in my life, and I couldn't handle a heartbreak right now. And I knew that’s exactly what would happen. He would break my heart even if it weren't intentional. He would.
I was supposed to be enjoying the evening, so I pushed my thoughts away and put on a smile. We drank and danced and gambled and I put on a damned good show. Annette never suspected a thing the whole evening.
I fell into bed later that night with thoughts of my day thick in my mind. I dreamed of Ryder. I dreamed of us with two kids and a small house on the outskirts of a small Connecticut town. Two boys wrestling with Ryder and a big yellow dog.
I awoke with a start and sat straight up in bed like I’d had a nightmare. Where on earth had that dream had come from?
The morning sun streamed brightly through a crack in the curtains, urging me to start the day. I got up and made my way to the bathroom, stumbling over Rick’s shoes and catching myself before I fell into the wall. When I finally made it to the bathroom, I shut the door behind me, splashed some water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I couldn't decide if I had done the right thing or not. I supposed I’d never know.
I came out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth and found Annette standing there, dressed and perky.
“I made us appointments at the spa. Get dressed and let's go,” she said in a bright voice.
“Okay. Give me five minutes.” I quickly grabbed some clothes and made myself presentable, then followed her out of the door.
* * * * *
A massage was just what the doctor ordered and the man rubbing my muscles told me I should have it done more often. Apparently my muscles were tense, and the knots along my shoulders weren't healthy. I thanked him when he was done, and waited until he left so I could pull my clothes on. I was definitely more relaxed than when I went in. I walked out to meet Annette and she was standing outside the massage room, bouncing from foot to foot like an excited cheerleader.
“Toes next!” she said with a clap.
I followed behind her as we walked through the spa. My back massage had been wonderful, but the foot massage that came before the pedicure was heavenly.
Once my legs were buffed and shiny, the pedicurist painted my toes a deep purple—a color Annette had chosen. I didn't argue, I had learned a long time ago that my complaints or words of defiance fell on deaf ears when it came to things of such a nature. Annette had been my friend since high school, and there were just some things that she was in charge of. My nail polish, haircuts and color, and, of course, my makeup. The only place I drew the line was my clothes. I wasn't nearly as adventurous as her, but I was more than most. I liked to wear clothes that left a little mystery to my body, where Annette showed everything she had. Maybe that's why she kept picking up the assholes.
Much like the current asshole. Rick. We had talked about him and his ways, but she said she was happy. Most of the time I backed off because I didn't want to fight with her.
We spent the rest of the day shopping and getting ready for the fashion show I was looking forward to that evening. There was never once a mention of
men. No Rick and, thankfully, no Ryder.
* * * * *
Later that night, we sat close to the stage as models walked down the runway. The clothing was a little outlandish, but there were several pieces that I thought would fit nicely in our boutique. I took pictures and sent them to my boss, Maggie, and she sent me back bids to get rights to it. I was able to purchase a few designs.
Maybe one day I would sell my designs for the kind of money I’d just spent. Maggie had looked at my designs and loved them, but without a way to manufacture them, I didn’t stand a chance at getting them into stores. One day I would have that backing, and then I would be ready for those two kids and a house in the suburbs. Maybe. If I found the right man.
I tied up all the paperwork for the purchases from the fashion show and hurried to catch my flight home. I tried to sleep on the plane, but every time I closed my eyes, Ryder was there, looking at me with those sea blue eyes and that stare that cut through me. I reached for my phone, the urge to text him hitting me yet again. I couldn't get him out of my head. I didn't think I had made a mistake, but I had never questioned myself like this.
Chapter Twelve
Tristan
Amy and Bruce were waiting on me when I boarded the plane. Amy handed me a stack of papers I needed to look over for a new contract between one of our clients and his team. I wanted him to sign with the same team, and so did he, but management had been dragging their feet and lowballing him even though he was a key player. I sat back in my seat and started to look over their counter offer. I skimmed the numbers and sighed. We were still a million dollars apart. Maybe if we could get a no trade clause added, then we could settle for a little less money. The client wouldn't like it, but sometimes you take a little less to stay where you are. He had settled here and wanted to stay.
I understood that feeling. Change isn’t always good, and it sure as hell isn’t comfortable.
I typed up an email to the team and sent it, hoping to have an answer for him in a couple days. Then I flipped to the next contract in the stack I’d been handed. This one was set for Ryder Rollins. I looked the contract over and smiled. It was a good deal for everyone involved. I had cut back on the percentages from the fights but left the endorsement percentages the same. The money wouldn’t be made on his fights anyway—it would be made on endorsements. The potential for endorsements for this guy went across the board. The sports drink, clothing, and protein powder companies were at his disposal. And if he won another big fight the way he beat Tate, his name would be cemented into the record books, and the endorsements would pour in. I spent the rest of the flight reading through the background information Amy had put together for me on Ryder. Knowing what made a man tick meant knowing how to approach him. For Ryder, that approach would be to impress his father.
