by Lolita Lopez
She shook her head. “Is that some kind of head thing?”
He nodded and let his hand fall down her arm. He grasped her fingers and tugged. “Come with me.”
Lexi followed him into the living room where he’d dropped his leather messenger back the night prior. Frank took a seat on the couch while she sat down on the wide leather ottoman across from him. He fished around in his bag and retrieved a stack of printed pages bound together with a binder clip. “Here.”
She accepted the pages and began to flip through them. They were printouts from various medical journals and online medical websites. She scanned the black print and tried to take in as much of the information as possible. Her stomach lurched as she processed it all. CTE was a type of degenerative disease caused by repeated head trauma. She wondered just how many times Tom had been whacked in the skull during his four-year career as a mixed martial artist. What about his time in the Army? God, he’d done multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. She’d seen the evidence of those violent times in the scars on his body. One IED explosion could have caused damage to his brain.
Swallowing hard, Lexi placed the packet of information on her lap. She lifted her gaze to Frank’s. He bit his lower lip and fidgeted with his hands. His body language screamed fear and trepidation. “Has he been diagnosed with CTE?”
Frank shook his head. “They can’t really diagnose it when you’re alive. It takes a brain biopsy or an autopsy to get a good look at the brain.”
“But?”
“But, last November, Tom competed in an exhibition fight. He won but got his bell rung pretty badly. He had some memory issues and it scared me. I made him go see a proper neurologist and have some brain imaging done. There were some areas of concern.”
“Areas of concern? What the hell does that mean?” Her fingernails bit into her palm as she imagined the very worst.
“It means Tom needs to stop fighting while he’s still healthy.” Frank rubbed his face. “The more hits he takes, the more likely it is that he’ll develop CTE. Can you imagine how that would destroy him?”
She could, actually. Not being able to walk or speak or remember would kill Tom. He prided himself on being so strong and tough. If he couldn’t even go to the bathroom by himself or lost control in a rage and hurt someone? Lexi shuddered at the very thought. “What do we do, Frank?”
He exhaled roughly. “I’ve tried to get through to him but he’s so fucking stubborn. And, forgive me, but you encouraging him hasn’t helped matters.”
“Well I didn’t realize this was the reason you didn’t want him to fight!” Lexi smacked the papers on her lap. “Jesus, Frank, if you’d told me Tom was risking this much, I’d have sided with you instantly.”
“I know.” He placed his head in his hands. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”
She heard his muffled apology and touched his arm. “It’s okay.” Her mind raced with various scenarios. “What if the three of us get together this evening and have an intervention? We could do it in your office or here at my house.”
Frank’s head popped up. He looked uncomfortable. “He’s going to flip.”
“Probably,” she agreed, “but we can’t let him fight without knowing what it means to us. He needs to know that we love him and want him to be safe. If he chooses to go ahead with the tournament, well…”
She couldn’t even finish the thought. If Tom chose to fight knowing full well it could put him in the hospital or worse, she’d know exactly where she stood in all this. If Tom didn’t love them enough to put his health first…
“It’s going to be ugly, Lexi,” Frank warned. “He doesn’t take criticism well. He’s also defensive as hell, especially when more than one person is on his case.”
“I don’t care.” Lexi picked up the papers and shook them. “If I’d known all of this earlier, I would have chained him to my bed while he was asleep and kept him there until after this stupid tournament.”
Frank smiled at that. “Chained him up? Now you’re talking my language.”
Lexi rolled her eyes and smacked his leg. “Totally not the right time for your kinkiness, Frank.”
“Will that time be soon?” He playfully waggled his eyebrows. “Hearing the two of you getting after it in the kitchen this morning gave me a raging hard-on.”
“Why didn’t you join us?”
“Sometimes it’s nice to have you all alone.” Frank scooted to the edge of the couch. He cupped her calves and slid his palms up and down her bare legs. “I love sharing and so does Tom but having you one-one-one is a different dynamic.” He pinched her inner thigh and made her gasp. He smiled wickedly. “Don’t you enjoy the one-on-one time?”
“Very much,” she admitted. “It helps keep me convinced that I’m enough.”
Frank’s hands stilled. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged and nervously glanced away. “You and Tom have a decades long history that I can’t compete with, Frank. You two invited me to join your relationship but, honestly, sometimes I wonder how long this will last. I mean, there’s some reason you two haven’t had a long-term threesome with a woman.”
“Lexi.” Frank breathed her name in a pained tone. He surprised her by scooping her right up off the ottoman and depositing her on his lap. He swept long strands of hair from her face and tucked them behind her ear. “Lexi, it’s killing me to think that you’ve been feeling like this. Why didn’t you say something?”
She gulped anxiously. “It’s not something that a girl wants to bring up, you know? What am I supposed to say? Hey, how long until you get bored with me?” She shook her head. “Not cool.”
“Lexi,” Frank tipped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze, “I love you. Tom loves you. We want you with us. Today, tomorrow, hell forever.” He kissed her so sweetly and lovingly. “We never had a woman with us for more than a few weeks because the chemistry wasn’t there. It’s hard to find a woman who is willing to share two men. Frankly, it’s even harder to find a woman willing to put up with our bullshit.”
She snorted with amusement. “That’s no joke.”
“These kinds of long-term relationships with three equal partners are difficult to navigate, Lexi. If you’re ever feeling neglected or uncertain, baby, you’ve got to say something. I can do a lot of things but mind reading isn’t one of them.” His lips teased across hers. “I love you, honey, and I never want you to feel less than or uncertain in our relationship. You mean so much to me.”
Lexi snuggled close and enjoyed the happiness his words inspired. Whatever doubts she’d been entertaining fled. Frank always meant what he said. Suddenly, she wished Tom were here with them. She wanted his arms around her, too, and that reassuring boyish grin of his. “I don’t want to push Tom away.”
“We won’t. He loves us. Deep down inside, he knows we’re looking out for him. I don’t doubt that he’s going to blow up and shout at us, but if we can get beyond that, we’ll be okay.”
“And if we can’t?” She voiced her biggest fear.
“Then we fight like hell to help him see the light.”
Chapter Three
Tom stretched his aching neck and tried to keep his focus on the two college-aged kids sparring in the ring. His gaze followed their moves. He studied their form as they kicked and swatted at one another. He made mental notes and shouted out quick pointers as they traded blows. When the time keeper knocked together the two blocks of wood, the pair of fighters separated. Tom hauled his sore body into the ring and began the end of fight lesson. They listened intently and mimicked the movements he taught them. It was nice to have fighters who wanted to learn in his ring.
“All right.” Tom glanced at his watch. The class had run long. “Get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Later, Coach.”
Tom smiled at the title. This coaching thing had been thrust on him by Frank last year. He’d done it as a favor for Frank and to help his lover increase the enrollment at his flagship gym. The id
ea was to get a good training program for regular guys running here and then roll out the classes to other gyms in the company. So far, the training was going great. He enjoyed the camaraderie and the casualness of it all.
These weren’t world class fighters, of course. None of these guys who enrolled in the class were ever going to make money but that wasn’t why they joined. They wanted to learn the discipline or wanted to get in shape or get in touch with that primal male side often buried by the demands of a modern life. Tom hated to admit it but sometimes he enjoyed the teaching aspect more than the actual fighting.
He glanced at his watch. He was supposed to meet Frank up in the office around seven so they could head home. Tom ducked into the small office he shared with the other trainers and picked up the bag he kept there. He’d gone through his last change of clothes that morning and needed to swap out the dirties for some clean sets at the house.
His house, he clarified to himself. Jumping between Lexi’s place and the house he shared with Frank got confusing sometimes. Often, he couldn’t remember where he’d left something. Were his favorite sneakers in Lexi’s bedroom or the living room at his house?
As Tom headed for Frank’s office, he let his mind wander to a question he’d been pondering lately. What the hell were they going to do about their living situation? In the early days of the relationship, it was fine to jump from house to house. Now, though, it was becoming problematic. Tom had a feeling Lexi wasn’t about to sell her house. He didn’t blame her. She’d built her home from the ground up and had that workshop out back.
The house he shared with Frank had been a builder home they’d been shown by a realtor. It was a great house but it wasn’t their dream home. Selling it in the current market would be a problem. He’d taken a peek at some of the listings available in their area. Homes in their price range were taking a long ass time to unload. Thankfully the place was paid off, so even if it sat empty and on sale for months, it wouldn’t drain them financially.
Tom figured he should run the issue by Frank. The house was half his. If he wasn’t willing to part with it or had reservations about moving in with Lexi, there was no reason to approach her. If Frank needed time, Tom was willing to give it to him. Unless, Lexi asked first, of course. She’d dropped a hint the other night but Frank hadn’t picked up on it. Whether that was deliberate or truly an oversight, Tom couldn’t say.
He knocked on the door before entering to give Frank a heads-up just in case he was on the phone. “You ready to go?”
Tom stopped short at the sight of Lexi perched on the edge of Frank’s desk and Frank pacing in front of her. Frowning, he closed the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”
Frank’s face betrayed his anxiety. He gestured to an empty chair in front of the desk. “Sit.”
Tom considered the chair and shook his head. His gut soured as he realized that something ugly was about to go down. “I think I’ll stand.” He dropped his bag and assumed that stiff position that had become so natural to him all those years in the Army. He felt like a man awaiting a death sentence. He had a pretty good feeling what was going on here. “So it finally happened, didn’t it, Frank?”
Frank’s forehead scrunched up in confusion. “What, Tommy?”
“The one thing you promised would never happen. You won.” Just saying the words made him queasy. “She picked you.”
“What?” Lexi hopped off the desk and strode toward him. “No! Are you thinking…?” She shook her head. “Tom, this isn’t a breakup. This is a wake up.”
“A what?” His brief sense of relief disappeared. “What the hell do I need to wake up about, Lexi? Have I been neglecting you?”
“No.” She reached for his hand and rubbed her fingers over his knuckles. “No, you’re the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, Tom. You’re amazing. Just—amazing.”
“So what?” He didn’t like being in the dark. His chest felt unnaturally tight. The penny finally dropped. “The fight. This,” he gestured between the three of them, “is about the fight.”
Lexi reluctantly nodded. “We have to talk, Tom.”
He eyed her warily. “Frank got to you, didn’t he? This morning you were fully supportive and standing in my corner. Now you’re giving me the look.”
“Don’t be like that,” Lexi pleaded. “I just didn’t understand how very serious this was this morning. I thought we were talking about you risking a couple of black eyes or a broken nose, Tom. You never said anything about CTE.”
Tom’s gaze whipped to Frank’s face. “You son of a bitch,” he growled. “That’s private. Who the hell gave you the right to go around discussing my medical history?”
“I fucking love you, Tommy.” Frank stalked toward him. “So does Lexi. She has a right to know what you’re risking when you step in that cage.”
Tom glanced toward Lexi. Eyes wide, she’d taken a step back from them. He winced at the fear in her eyes. She didn’t handle confrontation well and after that beating she’d taken in May, he didn’t blame her for being skittish around all this yelling. “Sugar,” he said softly and reached for her. “It’s not that bad. Frank is blowing this way out of proportion.”
“Is he?” She wrung her hands and glanced from his face to Frank’s and back again. “I don’t know, Tom. I read those articles. This is a new field of study and research and they’re finding so many of you fighters and football players and soldiers with these brain issues.” She had tears in her beautiful eyes as she asked, “Is it worth it?”
A voice inside his head screamed no but he batted it away. “Lexi, this is what I do for a living. This is who I am. You knew this when you started dating me.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “I guess I was so blinded by the sexiness of it all that I didn’t stop to think about what you do on a more realistic level. I mean, I let myself get so wrapped up in the romance of it, of you being this big, hunky fighter, that I never took a moment to really consider it, Tom.” She started to sob. “You let other men beat the shit out of you for money.”
“Lexi.” His heart broke at the anguish in her voice and the fear on her face. He embraced her and buried his face in her hair. “Oh, sugar, it’s not like that. It’s just a sport. What I do isn’t much different that a football or hockey player.”
“That doesn’t comfort me, Tom.” She pushed away from his chest and forced him to meet her questioning gaze. “Have you read any of that research? Have you seen the autopsy findings on all of these professional athletes?”
Tom grunted and turned away from her. He’d read them. The findings were scary but that didn’t mean he’d develop CTE. Lots of fighters were just fine. He wasn’t going to be one of the ones who ended up stumbling around in confusion.
“Tom?” Lexi’s frustration cut through his troubled thoughts. “Answer me.”
He whirled around on her. “What do you want me to say, Lexi? You two have already made up your minds.” He stabbed an accusing finger in Frank’s direction and then hers. “You’ve decided that just because a couple of fighters got their bells rung one too many times, I’m going to end up like them. It’s bullshit.”
“So that’s that?” Lexi held her hands wide. “You just decide that we’re not going to discuss this?”
“Why not? You two have already decided that I’m not going to fight, right?” His eyebrows raised in anticipation. “Well?”
Lexi shot a glance at Frank before looking back at him. “Does that mean you’re not going to fight, then?”
He laughed harshly. “Fat chance, baby. I’ve worked too damn hard to let some quack of a neurologist and a couple of medical articles take this away from me.” His hand cut through the air. “I’m a fighter, Lexi. That’s not going to change just because the two of you staged this intervention.”
“You could do something else, Tom.” Frank finally entered the conversation. “You’re a damn good teacher, Tommy. You could do that and do it well.”
“Yeah, and go back to scraping to make en
ds meet?” Tom chortled with disgust. “I don’t fucking think so, Frank.”
“But your endorsement deals—” Lexi interjected but he cut her off just as quickly.
“Will dry up the second I’m out of the cage for good.” He shook his head. “I need this tournament and the fight in December to make my exit right, Lexi. I’ve got to position myself for the best deals possible.”
“Tom, fuck the money!” Lexi’s raised voice shocked him. “Seriously, just fuck it. I’ve got more than enough money to support us all. My trust fund alone is more than the two of you will ever make in your lifetimes combined. We don’t need you to put yourself through this hell to put food on the table or keep a roof over our heads.”
Tom’s chest ached painfully at the very thought of leeching off Lexi for the rest of his life. “I don’t want to be a kept man, Lexi. I got a nice view of that at the lake house. Your mother may enjoy keeping her boy-toys around but I sure as fuck won’t be one for you.”
Lexi paled. “Is that what you think? That I’d treat you like an errand boy if I supported us?” Her lower lip wobbled again. “You really think I’d debase you in that way? That I’d strip away your pride and make your trade sex for money?”
The bottom fell out of his stomach. Lexi looked so incredibly hurt. He cursed his shitty word choice and wished he’d had a better hold on his temper. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
“You’d be better off letting Lexi play the role of sugar mama than getting yourself killed, Tommy.” Frank looked utterly destroyed as he spoke. “Do you understand what you’re risking, Tom? Are you willing to throw this,” he motioned between the three of them, “away over some stupid fucking tournament?”
Tom didn’t know what to say. Of course he didn’t want to lose Lexi and Frank. The two of them were his life, but he deeply resented being told what to do. All those old, repressed memories of his abusive childhood filtered to the surface. He’d sworn he would never put himself in a position where other people held power over him. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever considered it would love that was used against him.
