by Abby Niles
“Damn, Dante, what happened?” Tommy asked. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
He wouldn’t repeat the foul words. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Make sure this thing stays out of my sight.”
“Sure, Dante. Whatever you want.”
Now he had to face Caitlyn. Damn it, the night had been perfect. They danced, laughed, kissed. He’d finally succeeded in getting her to lower her guard, and the woman behind all those barriers had forced him to lower his own.
He hurried to the parking lot. Talking about Frank, his past, and the way she’d tried to comfort him with those small touches to his arm, had been amazing. She might not have understood his sport, but she was compassionate and caring. It’d been a long time since he’d connected with a woman on a deeper level. Most of his relationships had been superficial with superficial women. At the time, that had been enough. Now it no longer was.
Dante wanted the openness he and Caitlyn had formed today. He’d let her in, and she’d done the same. He refused to lose that.
He neared his truck, but Caitlyn was nowhere to be found. A knot formed in his stomach. She wouldn’t have left.
After digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he called her and it went straight to voicemail. He sent a text asking her where she was.
A few seconds later, his phone chimed with a return text.
Took a taxi. It’s over, Dante.
…
Caitlyn quietly closed the door to her apartment. She leaned against it and finally allowed herself to cry. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Why had sending that text been so hard?
“Cait?”
She heard Amy before she saw her. When her friend popped her head around the corner of the living room, her eyes widened and she rushed to Cait’s side. “What happened?”
“I’m so humiliated.”
“Cait, honey, come here.”
Behind Amy, Paul stood in the door frame, his arms outstretched. She hurried into them, his thin limbs enveloping her. So different from Dante’s strong embrace, but just as safe.
“Amy, I think this calls for the good stuff,” he said.
“Which one?”
“We have tears, Amy. Which do you think?”
The exaggerated disgust in Paul’s tone made Cait thankful to be home. She needed her two best friends right now.
Paul led her to the couch and gently pushed her into the cushions. He sat beside her, reached for a Kleenex on the coffee table, and wiped her tears. Concern drew his eyebrows together.
She opened her mouth to spill her guts, but he held up his hand. “We have to wait for Amy. She’d kill me for sending her on an errand then getting all the drama to myself. You know how much she loves the drama.”
Cait begrudged a smile.
Minutes later, Amy walked in, carrying three heaping bowls of ice cream. Cait took a bowl. Full-fat Rocky Road. Paul really knew how to wallow.
“Thanks, guys.”
“What kind of friends are we if we can’t share ice cream when one of us is upset?” He squeezed her hand. “So what happened?”
Cait grimaced. Voicing the humiliation she’d endured would be difficult. Yet she had to, or this night would eat her alive. “A woman asked Dante if I was a pity date.”
Paul gasped, his fingers flying to his mouth. “Did you claw her eyes out? ’Cause if you didn’t, I sure will.”
Amy scooted close and hugged her. “God, Cait, I’m so sorry.”
The sympathy in her friend’s voice made a fresh wave of tears gather in her eyes. “To be so humiliated, in front of Dante.”
Before she could let the waterworks start again, she shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. The sweet goodness did nothing to relieve her distress.
Paul straightened. “Cait, I know how you think. You will not let some catty bitch come between you and Hercules. Do you understand?”
Cait forced the ice cream past the lump in her throat. “I never wanted anything to do with the fighting part of Dante’s life. Tonight’s encounter only confirmed that. I let my attraction to Dante cloud my judgment and now I’ve been rudely awakened.”
“Cait, you need to look at this from a different perspective.” Amy pinned her with an intense stare. “Dante wanted you there. No one else. This woman was jealous. The easy target is to attack the woman he’s with. What do women attack first? Other women’s looks.”
“I know Dante wanted me there, but I had women challenging me from the moment I walked in there. I had a woman humiliate me because she wanted the man I was with. I refuse to deal with people like that over an attraction that has no future. I want to go back to life before Dante.” Glancing down at the ice cream, she felt her stomach roil. She set the bowl down. Fatigue sapped the last of her energy. “I want to go to bed.”
“Cait—”
She shook her head. “No more tonight. My head is killing me and I’m drained. I just want to curl up in bed, okay?”
“If you need—”
“I know. I’ll talk. I promise.” She forced a smile, then rose from the couch and went to her room.
Once inside, she closed the door and flung herself across the bed. She’d been a fool. She never should’ve agreed to the date. She should’ve concentrated on a safer man, one who didn’t make her insides come to life with a smoldering glance. Too many feelings were wrapped up in Dante.
Of course, she would’ve been embarrassed if the same thing had occurred with any guy, but it wouldn’t have been this mind-numbing mortification she felt at Dante witnessing it.
Damn, there were the tears again. She blinked, wiping her eyes on her comforter.
A tapping came from the door. She pulled her pillow over her head. Couldn’t her friends just leave her alone? She knew they were worried, but still. The tapping came again. “Go. Away!”
“Open the damned door.”
Cait jackknifed into a sitting position, a gasp lodging in her throat at the deep—very angry—masculine voice on the other side.
“Caitlyn!”
The raw authority in his voice made her jump off the bed and hurry to the door. He stormed inside once she opened it, slamming it shut behind him. She backed up to give him room, lots of room, as memories of what happened the last time he was in here came to mind.
She didn’t need that. Not now. Not when it would take every ounce of willpower to send him away.
She crossed her arms. “What are you doing here?”
“You can’t just leave without a word and think I’m not going to show up.”
“I think my text said it all.”
“The hell it did. I’m not going to let one incident bring this thing between us to a grinding halt.”
Blasted tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away before staring him in the eye. “It’s an attraction, Dante. Attractions fizzle out. This one will, too.”
“You’re scared.”
“Oh, I am so far outside the spectrum of scared, Dante.”
He took a step forward, and she took a step back. He scowled. “Amanda’s an ex-girlfriend. You have no idea how sorry I am that you were on the receiving end of her venom. It’s why we broke up.”
“That’s supposed to make it all better? How many other hateful ex-girlfriends do you have waiting out there in after-party land? Better yet, how many women are waiting for their chance at you? From the women I saw drooling tonight, it’s one hell of an impressive list.”
“I’ve never claimed to be a saint. Women like me, they always have, and I do have my fair share of exes, but that shouldn’t matter when it’s you I want to be with.”
“Shouldn’t matter?” She pointed at him. “Let me tell you something, Dante Jones, in all my life, at any weight, with any man I might have been with, I’ve never been asked if I was a pity date. Why? Because when I did have the occasional date, it was with an average Joe, not someone in the limelight who has every anorexic hussy panting after him—women who have no regard for human f
reaking emotion.”
“What they think doesn’t matter.”
She stepped toward him. “I’ve spent a majority of my life beating myself up over my weight. I’m finally getting to a point where I no longer do that, and I refuse to let women who have you on their to-do list step in and do it for me.” She waved. “This world of yours—I want nothing to do with. So leave.”
“No.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Why?”
“Because of this.”
He grabbed her then, his lips crushing down on hers. Cait pushed at his chest and opened her mouth to protest, but he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, caressing, stroking. His fingers worked their way into her hair and massaged her scalp. She wanted to deny him, to turn her head, but couldn’t. Instead, she gripped his head between her hands and returned his kiss with passion and a little desperation.
“Caitlyn,” he whispered into her mouth. He cupped her bottom and brought her close. The hard evidence of his arousal pressed into her belly. “God, Caitlyn. I can’t get enough of you.”
Reality crashed over her like cold water. She pushed at his chest. “I can’t. It’s not going to work. Please…leave.” When he didn’t budge, the fight left her and she pressed her face into his chest. “Please, Dante, just leave. I can’t handle any more tonight. It’s all been too much.”
He stiffened, his arms tightened around her as he kissed the top of her head. “Fine. But let me tell you something, Caitlyn. I want you. When I want something, I get it. And nothing, especially your past, will stand in my way. So get used to it.”
Chapter Eleven
“Three!”
Dante punched the focus pads on Mike’s hands with a left-right-hook combination.
“Two.”
The snapping sound of glove hitting mitt with a left-right boomed inside the ring. Dante fell back, lowered his hands to mid-chest, and waited for the next command.
“Damn it, Dante, keep your hands up.”
Shit. He brought his gloves back up to his cheeks.
“One.”
Jab.
“One.”
Jab. Dante ducked, weaving back and forth.
“Hands up! Two.”
Left, right.
When Dante fell into his stance, a focus pad smacked him on the side of the head. Stunned, he dropped back and stared at Mike.
“I told you to keep your hands up. What’s with you this week? Your focus has sucked.”
Dante sighed. “Not getting much sleep.”
No sleep was more like it.
Caitlyn made a formidable opponent and made it difficult for him to make good on his word that he wasn’t going anywhere.
A week had gone by since the Amanda fiasco, and Caitlyn had avoided his every attempt to make contact. After two days of unreturned phone calls, he’d resorted to camping outside the fitness room at the Y waiting for her class to be over. By the time he’d woven through the class, which had tripled in size since the first day, she’d disappeared. He’d toyed with the idea of actually attending a session but knew how important the program was to her and wouldn’t stress her out just because he needed to see her.
Unfortunately, the week had taken a toll on his training. He could already hear the big “I told you so” coming from Mike.
“Do you need to take the day off?”
And go back to an empty apartment, where the silence only intensified his thoughts? “No, I need this.”
“Fine. Forget the focus pads. Let’s move to the bag.”
Dante sighed in relief. The intense pain that accompanied bag work was welcome. Anything to numb his racing mind.
“Burn out!”
In quick short punches, Dante hit the bag, over and over again. In less than a minute, fire seared his arms up into his shoulders.
“Two to go. Faster!”
He increased his speed, pounding in swift repetition. The burning deep in his muscles intensified until he yelled. Pummeling faster, he refused to let the stinging daunt him. Sweat coated his arms and dripped off his elbows. Still he continued.
A loud buzz rang. “Time.”
Dante bounced back, hopping from foot to foot as he shook out his arms.
“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” Mike glared at him.
Dante froze. Damn Mike. Couldn’t the man take his lame not-enough-sleep excuse and let it be? He’d depended on Mike to distract him with an abusive session. And his coach had delivered. With one question, all Dante’s troubles roared back to life.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He shadowboxed around the floor.
Mike came around the bag, scowling. “Whatever happened between you two, push it aside. This has been a wasted week of training. Your timing is off. The strength behind your punches is weak, you’re only half here. That’s not acceptable.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I warned you not to get involved while you were training.”
And there it was—the “I told you so.” He really didn’t need a nose rubbing right now. “You don’t have to worry about that now.”
“So she dumped you.” Mike grinned. “Good. Maybe now you’ll get your head out of your ass.”
The tinkle of the bell interrupted Dante’s retort. Brad strode in, his gym bag thrown over his shoulder.
Mike held up his hand. “Nope. No work out for you tonight.”
Brad paused. “Huh?”
“Take Dante and let him do whatever the hell he’s got to do to get this girl out of his system.” He pointed at Dante. “As for you, you better come in here tomorrow ready to give me your all. Understand?”
“Yes, coach.”
“I know I’m being a hard ass. But you hired me to do a job. When I see something that’s interfering with that job, I’m going to address the issue. Do you want to win this title?”
“Yes.”
“Then put your personal life aside and focus. The girl will be there after the match. Deal with her then. Now is not the time.”
Mike slapped him on the shoulder and walked away. Dante sighed. Deep down, he knew his coach was right. The fight was less than a month away. Intensive training was essential right now. Complete concentration was crucial. He should put his personal life on the backburner until after the fight, but the idea soured his stomach.
Memories of Amanda’s ugliness and the way that Caitlyn’s body shuddered after the insult struck home had haunted him all week. A sane man would probably cut his losses and leave.
But he’d never claimed to be a sane man and he never backed away from a fight. The woman who’d held his hand while he spoke about Frank, who opened up about her past to let him see the struggles she’d faced, who’d been awkward and shy but tried so hard to let go for him—she was worth another round.
Brad walked over. “Let’s go get a drink.”
“Or five.”
“Get showered, and we’ll go drink ourselves stupid.”
…
Swaying on his stool, Dante glanced over at Brad. “’Nother one?”
His friend’s head swung toward him with a drunken grin. “Yep.”
Dante waved to catch the bartender’s attention. When he got it, he raised two fingers. The bartender shook his head but pulled out two shot glasses, filled them with vodka, and slid them over. Dante lifted his into the air. Brad followed. “To women. May we survive their existence.”
Dante tossed his shot back. The liquor burned his throat as he smacked his lips. He slammed the glass on the polished wood. Two hours ago, they’d walked into the tiny club and bellied up to the bar. They’d been there ever since. Mike was a fucking genius. The alcohol had dulled his senses enough for him to stare numbly into space. And now he was ready to talk.
“We were havin’ a fuckin’ blast, we’d connected, man,” Dante slurred. “And it went to shit ’cause of a stupid bitch.”
“Sucks, man.”
“Bad. Do you know what’s like to have a woman kiss you back ’cause she wants you, and not
the idea of you? It’s fuckin’ hot, bro. Irre-fuckin’-sistible.”
Brad studied him. “You fallin’ for her?”
Memories from the other night hit him in the chest. Her smiles as they’d danced, her laughter, the rightness of having her by his side, how at ease he felt with her. Until it all fell apart. “Possibly. Been a long time since a woman had me this riled up.”
“But she’s pushin’ you away.”
Yeah, she was. But he knew why. Dante toyed with the empty shot glass. “You know how we study our opponents before a fight, look for their weaknesses?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve seen Caitlyn’s. Seen how deeply they get to her. She’s not pushing me away as much as she is scared out of her mind to be with me. Caitlyn wants me, and I refuse to be a pussy and walk away when she’s fighting herself. She doesn’t need that kind of man. She needs me. A man not easily deterred. A man who, when she lets her guard down, smiles at him, opens up to him, kisses him—” he thumped the area above his heart with his fist— “she gets him right there. I’ve never had a woman get me there.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Good question.” He slid off the stool.
Brad held up his hand. “Hold up, man. They’re not home.”
“Where are they?”
“Amy took Cait to dinner. Where they ended up after, I don’t have a clue.”
Dante sat back down and waved at Brad. “Find them.”
Now that Brad had planted the seed, Dante wanted to get the ball rolling. He wanted to see Caitlyn. Hold her, kiss her, wipe away the memories of that horrible night and create new, more pleasant ones. And she’d let him. He just had to corner her first.
“Okay, hold on,” Brad said, pulling his cell out then hitting a number. “It’s ringin’.”
Brad shifted the phone to his mouth and sat up straighter. “Hey, baby. Where are you?” Momentary silence. “Where are you going afterward?” A pause. Dante could hear Amy’s muffled voice but couldn’t make out her words.
“Dante wants to see Cait.” Brad placed his hand on the receiver. “She had to get away from the table.” He removed his palm. “Hey, yeah, I’m here… Paul’s? How the hell do I get there? Okay, we’ll see you in a bit… Love you, too. Oh, Amy. Don’t let Cait know we’re comin’.”
