by Nikki Ash
When I asked him if he’s ever fought, he shook his head, and it boggled my mind that someone could love something so much and never have even experienced it firsthand. So, after having Alec watch some of my friends, Troy Declan and Jake Finning—who are also UFC fighters—spar against me, I told him it was his turn. The passion and love for the sport shines so brightly in his eyes, it’s almost blinding. I was older than Alec when I was introduced to the UFC, but I remember everything I felt the first time I was brought into the octagon: the fear, nervousness, and excitement all mixed together. It was like a natural high, a rush that’s impossible to fully understand until you’re in that position.
Alec and I are circling each other. Of course I’m taking it easy on the kid, but at the same time I’m not letting him catch me. He’s giving it all he’s got. Punching and kicking, trying every move he’s seen on TV. The guys are rooting for him and it’s spurring him on. He throws another left hook and I jump out of the way. I can see it in his face, he’s getting more and more frustrated and it has me laughing. I can’t help it. To me, fighting is one big game of cat and mouse. Sure, it’s about strength and follow through, but it’s more than that. It’s about learning the opponent. Watching their every move and learning how they tick. It’s about being patient and never getting frustrated. You have to be smart. Memorize their moves. And when the time is right, you go in for the kill.
I feel someone watching me from the sidelines, and when I turn to see who it is, I spot Mila checking me out. Her eyes are dragging down my body, and she’s practically eye-fucking me right here in front of her son. Unlike this morning when I saw her at the art studio with her hair down in waves, it’s now up in a messy bun. She’s still dressed the same, though, in a plain black V-neck tee that shows off her voluptuous breasts and a pair of tight jeans, ripped down her legs. To complete her outfit, she’s wearing a pair of black Nike’s, unlike most of the women I know who wear high heels everywhere they go. She’s the perfect mix of girly and sexy, and I need to stop looking at her…but I can’t.
When my eyes meet hers, I give her a knowing smirk—the one that says she’s been busted checking me out. Her beautiful green-brown eyes roll in mock annoyance, and I chuckle, completely forgetting that I’m in the middle of sparring with her son. But guess who doesn’t forget? Alec. He takes advantage of my momentary distraction, and before I know it’s coming, he delivers a successful punch to my jaw, hitting just right. Because I don’t have a mouth guard in since I was only sparring with an eight-year-old, my lip clashes against my teeth when his fist connects. Losing my balance, I stumble back and land on my ass. I run my tongue over my busted lip and feel the open cut.
Glancing up, I see Alec standing over me, worry evident in his features. I shake my head, laughing that I was just taken down by a damn kid, and he visibly sighs.
“That was badass! I’m thinking your new name around here should be Bruiser!” I feel my bruised lip again, the metallic taste of blood trickling into my mouth and hitting my taste buds. Then I dart my eyes toward Mila, who is standing there in shock, her hands covering her mouth. “Please tell me you’re going to sign him up for classes.”
Jake and Troy crack up laughing, and Brent, the gym manager, brings me over a wet washcloth to press on my bleeding mouth.
“Can I, Mom?” Alec runs toward his mom to beg her. “Please, can I?”
She looks torn when she says, “We’ll see, sweetie. I’ll speak to your dad about it when he picks you up tomorrow night.” Alec’s shoulders slump but he doesn’t argue. “Go grab your stuff. We need to get home.”
He jumps out of the octagon and heads back toward the front where I had him put his electronics earlier. I stand and cut across the octagon until I’m right in front of Mila, only the ropes separating us.
“Let me see.” Her fingers wrap around mine as she moves the washcloth from my lip. “I don’t think it will need stitches.” She gives me a small smile. “Thank you for hanging out with Alec today.”
“No problem.” I shrug. “He’s a good kid, and as you can see, he’s good at MMA. Lessons would be good for him, especially since he loves the sport.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s been asking more and more lately to sign up. I need to go over my bills, though, before I can say yes. I got a new job yesterday, which will help, but Charlie has been paying half the bills. I need to find a new roommate before I can commit to spending money like that.”
“What about his dad?” I have no clue why I ask that. This isn’t my business. Mila and her son aren’t my business.
“We pay for half of all Alec’s extracurricular activities. He’ll agree. I just need to make sure I can cover my half.” My heart squeezes as I remember how many times I wanted to play a sport when I was younger but my mom couldn’t afford it. She would cry for hours after she told me no. Eventually I stopped asking, not wanting to upset her and knowing the answer would always be no.
“I’m ready to go, Mom!” Alec runs back over to us.
“Did you thank Mason for taking care of you today?”
“Thank you, Mason! Today was awesome!” Alec puts his fist out to bump mine like I taught him earlier, and I reciprocate robotically—I’m smiling outwardly, but on the inside I’m freaking the fuck out.
“Anytime, Bruiser.” I watch Alec as he runs over to the other guys to say goodbye, Mila’s words on repeat in my head.
“Did you thank Mason for taking care of you today?”
Is that what I did? Did I take care of Alec? No…I hung out with him. I’m not in any place to take care of anyone. I was just doing Mila a favor. We hung out and sparred…I wasn’t taking care of anybody. My thoughts flip back to my mom and all of the times she tried and failed to take care of me, to me wishing for the day I could finally be in a place where I could take care of her, only to have her push me away once I was. Her, not trusting me enough to let me help her—take care of her. Her, choosing to continue to prostitute herself out instead of letting me in. My chest feels like it’s constricting, squeezing my heart and making it hard to breathe.
“Mason?” My eyes dart back to Mila, who is giving me a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I breathe in deeply then struggle out an exhale. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure? You look like you’re having a hard time breathing.”
I almost tell her the truth—what’s going on in my head—but instead I play it off. “What can I say?” I lean in close to her so I can whisper into her ear. “Being in the presence of a gorgeous woman such as yourself…you take my breath away, and maybe, just maybe, I’m considering lifting my ban on moms.”
Mila’s breath hitches slightly. “Not happening, Mason.” She backs away from me slightly and tries to appear annoyed, but her nipples poking out through her thin shirt indicates she’s turned on.
“You say that”—I move closer to her again, this time cornering her between my body and the edge of the counter—“but your body says something else entirely.” My eyes dart down to her tits, and her gaze follows. Her eyes widen, but before she can respond, I back away. “I’m going to grab my stuff and then I’ll walk you guys to your car.”
I turn away from her and run into the locker room. I throw my hoodie on and grab my flip-flops to quickly slide on, the entire time trying to get a grip on myself. I’m Mason, the guy who fights and fucks. The guy who goes fishing but never keeps what he catches. I’m not the guy who settles down and takes care of a kid.
I get back out to the main area and Alec and Mila are waiting for me by the door. “Ready?” I ask, and she and Alec nod. I walk them to their car, saying a quick goodbye to both of them, then jump into mine to head home.
When I get there, Tristan is sitting at the table on his laptop. “What’s up?”
“Lexi asleep?” I ask, when I don’t hear or see her.
“Yeah, Georgia is spending the night so Charlie can close the studio.” He smiles warmly. “The girls are inseparable.” The way Trist
an and Charlie’s worlds collided wasn’t exactly conventional. Major shit went down with Charlie’s husband, and had the two of them not been as strong as they are, it might’ve broken them. But they handled it together and came out even stronger and more in love, if that’s possible. The moment they met each other’s kids, they accepted them as if they were their own, and once they’re married, they’ll be adopting them, making the four of them a family, legally. I always viewed caring for someone as a negative quality. A weakness or a sacrifice. Making yourself vulnerable and setting yourself up for failure. But when I watch Tristan and Charlie together with their daughters, they don’t ever seem like they’re sacrificing anything, and they’ve proven that the two of them are stronger together than separate. It’s almost as if they complete each other.
Tristan looks up from whatever it is he’s doing and eyes me skeptically. “You okay?”
“Yeah…” I run my hands over my face. “My mom’s out of jail, again.”
Tristan nods, waiting for me to continue. I don’t usually talk about my past, but Mila’s words opened up old wounds I thought were healed, only to realize they were nothing more than deep lacerations tightly bandaged to appear like they were healed, but are still bleeding underneath.
“How did you know you could take care of Lexi?” I sit across the table from Tristan and his eyes widen, probably out of shock that I’m talking to him about this.
“Like be her dad?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t.” He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I couldn’t even think of a damn name for her. I was in such shock, I almost named her after one of your conquests.” We both laugh. “Shit, five years later and I still have no idea what I’m doing most of the time.”
I scoff at Tristan’s response. He’s the best dad I’ve ever met. Growing up, when my dad was alive, he was there…yet he wasn’t. He provided a home and the necessities, but he never took care of my mom and me like he was supposed to because he was too busy drinking and gambling. He never took us anywhere or did anything with us. I remember going to school every Monday and hearing the kids talk about their weekends: trips to the park, the aquarium, dinners out. I wished for any of that, something, but it never happened. Still, even without any of that, my mom was happy when my dad was alive. We lived in a nice home and she wasn’t fucking guys for money. We didn’t have much but we had each other…until we didn’t. Until she could no longer take care of herself, let alone me.
Tristan…he takes care of his daughter. He puts her first every day of his life. He thinks about her wants and needs. He loves her with every ounce of his being. My mom was given a shitty hand, and I know she did the best she could. What I don’t understand is why, when I’m more than capable of helping her, taking care of her, she won’t let me. Is it because I’m my father’s son? Does she not trust me? Is she afraid I’ll fail her the same way my dad did? Does she resent me for being the reason she had to prostitute herself out in the first place? Because I was too expensive. I had too many needs.
“Mason, what’s going on?”
I stand, feeling confused. My head and heart are all over the place. Mila’s fucking words are making me second guess everything I’ve ever believed and thought I knew.
“Nothing. I’m going to shower.”
“Okay…Oh, by the way, the condo is under contract. We need to be out the first week of March.”
“Nice. It sold quickly.”
“Yeah, and they didn’t even try to negotiate on the price. Are you coming to see the new house with us tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Tristan picked out a house to surprise Charlie. She fell in love with it, but it needed to have some renovations done, so she insisted everyone wait to see it until they were done. They’ll be moving all of their stuff in next month before they get married.
“You know you’re welcome to move with us.”
“I know…but you guys need to do your own thing.” I shrug. “I’ll find a place before we need to be out.”
After taking a shower, I lay in bed. I had made plans to meet up with a woman I met at the club the other night but I’m just not feeling it. On my way home from the gym I texted her to cancel. After watching a couple crappy television shows, my eyes make their way to my phone. I click on the app store and type in Plenty of Fish. I deleted the app the other day to stop myself from messaging Mila back. My finger hovers over the install button for a good minute before I finally press it. I watch impatiently as the icon slowly loads. Once it’s done, I click on it to log in, then I click on my inbox to retrieve my new messages. Shit! There must be a few hundred here. I bypass them all until I find the one I’m looking for.
Looking4Love: You must have fallen asleep…I guess I better get a couple hours as well. Goodnight/Good morning.
That’s the last message she sent before I deleted the app. I see the green dot indicating she’s on, so I shoot her a message, keeping it light.
GetHooked: How’s the fishing going?
Looking4Love: I haven’t caught anything LOL Well, maybe I have… but they weren’t worth keeping. How about you?
GetHooked: I’m just chilling on the pier, beer in my hand, pole in the water, waiting for the right fish to come along and bite.
Looking4Love: Haha! Mind if I join you?
GetHooked: Sure! The more the merrier. Just don’t try to steal my bait ;)
Looking4Love: I wouldn’t dream of it. Plus, something tells me the fish you’re trying to catch is nothing like the one I’m trying to catch.
And she has no idea how right she is about that…
Five
Mila
“Oh my god! Charlie, this place is huge!” I’m standing in the middle of her and Tristan’s massive new kitchen, practically drooling. “Like, I could fit my entire townhome into your kitchen.”
Tristan chuckles. “It’s too bad Charlie doesn’t cook.”
“Hey! I can cook!” She pushes him against his chest, but he grabs her hand and pulls her close. “It’s not my fault you can cook better,” she says, pouting playfully.
The kids are running around, and you can hear their voices echoing off the bare walls. I can hear Alec counting and the girls giggling while they hide somewhere in the house.
“Tristan, Charlie, this is a beautiful home,” Ashley gushes as she walks into the kitchen. “And I love that you will only be a couple streets over from us.”
Kaden laughs. “You did good, Son.” He gives Tristan and Charlie a hug. “I know I’ve said it before but welcome to the family.”
“Thank you.” Tears spring from Charlie’s eyes. “I never imagined I would go from my life before, to this. To having amazing people like you guys in my life…in my daughter’s life.”
“Aww…Charlie! I might just have to change my mind and move in here with you guys.” Mason laughs and pulls Charlie into a hug.
“You know you’re welcome to!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He checks his phone. “I need to hit the gym.” He slaps Tristan on the shoulder. “Great house, man. I look forward to moving all your shit in here in a few weeks.” Everyone cracks up, and Mason says bye to everyone before heading out.
“Dad!” Lexi comes running down the hallway with Georgia and Alec running behind her. “I’m so hungry!” She sticks her belly out. “It’s growling, and so is Georgia’s, right?” She glances toward Georgia, and she nods in agreement.
“All right. Let’s go grab something to eat before my daughters shrivel up and die from starvation.”
“Mom, where’s Mason?” Alec looks around.
“He had to go work out at the gym.”
Alec frowns. “Can we ask dad when we see him about signing me up?”
“Sure, sweetie.”
While we’re waiting for a table, Charlie and I are sitting on the bench discussing everything she still needs to purchase for their new home when I let out a yawn, and Charlie gives me a look of concern. “Not sleeping well?”
I
think back to my conversation with—well, jeez, I don’t even know his name—GetHooked. We chatted for hours until I finally passed out at close to four in the morning. He’s funny and silly and just so easy to talk to. He didn’t send me any dick pics or ask what my favorite position is—refraining from doing that are automatic points in my book.
“I was messaging a guy on Plenty of Fish.” I feel myself grin, and Charlie grins back.
“Go you! Are you going to meet him?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just enjoying talking to him.”
It takes a little while for the restaurant to put a table together big enough to fit all of us, and when we’re finally sitting down to eat, I get a text message from Gavin letting me know he’s on his way to pick up Alec. I give him the name of the restaurant, and as we’re all ordering, he shows up.
“Dad!” Alec jumps out of his seat and runs over to his father.
“Little dude!” Gavin pulls him into a hug.
“I’m ordering chicken fingers! Can we stay so I can eat, please?”
“Um…” He looks to me for help.
“Hey, man.” Tristan stands and walks over to Gavin to shake his hand. “Why don’t you join us? We’re just ordering.” Tristan and Charlie have met Gavin several times when he’s come to get Alec from the house.
“You sure?” He glances toward me for the okay and I nod.
