Mean Boy: Bad Boy Romance

by Amy Faye

  As the cops finally pulled up and grabbed me, the anger faded just a little bit, and I gave in to whatever bullshit fate was about to throw at me.

  –

  The constant nausea was worrying. I again threw myself into the house, packing things up and throwing things out for a whole week, but by the 8th day without contacting Brant, I was barely able to move.

  My lower back hurt, there was a strange muscle pulling in my abdomen, I was tired all the time, and I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't throw up, though, so I ignored the possibility of my being pregnant once again and forced myself to assume it was the flu or something.

  I did have the achy joints that comes with the flu, so it wasn't hard to convince myself. I really had a bad habit of running away from problems. A lot of the time they really did just work themselves out! That voice in the back of my head kept trying to tell me that probably wasn't going to happen this time, but I ignored it.

  I decided to give it a few more days, and if I didn't start feeling better, I would take one of those tests.

  Still, I was too sick to do too much cleaning, and I ordered in a lot of crap food that I craved constantly but didn't make me feel better. It kind of made me feel worse, especially eating leftover microwaved pizza.

  Even worse, my mind kept turning back to Brant. I somehow convinced myself that it was terribly unfair of me to have left him like that. The idea of not apologizing and at least ending our relationship on good terms made me even more anxious than my constant pregnancy anxiety.

  If I was pregnant, I would have to tell Brant. That was just how it was. I couldn't leave with our baby and never tell him, that wouldn't be fair to him and it would make my life unnecessarily hard. He would have to know, so I needed to apologize to him before I even took the test.

  The house only needed another week or two before it would be basically ready. I decided to leave some of the nicer furniture out to help with staging, and then the realtor could sell it for me or throw it out. I didn't much care either way.

  For some reason, though, I was hesitant to just finish up and hop into a taxi to leave. It wasn't just Brant. It was reliving old memories. It was feeling my mom's presence in the photos hanging on the walls, hearing her voice when I touched the keys of her old piano.

  It was the smell of the cherry blossoms as they bloomed, and knowing that the festivals and fairs would start soon. The busiest time of the year was when we had our cherry festivals, and people from all over the state would come in, buy up our stuff, and create a whirlwind of chaos for us. I almost, kind of, wanted to stay and experience that. Even if it was for the last time.

  Everything hinged on Brant. If he could forgive me, if we could work things out, I could stay for just a little while longer.

  I was just surprised at how much I actually loved Bell Bend. When I left, I thought I hated it, but the good memories definitely outweighed the bad.

  Chapter Nine

  Shit. Gabriela was calling me again. How many times had she tried to call over the past few days? It wasn't a good sign at all, and I couldn't ignore her 20th call without incurring her wrath.

  “Gabriela, hey!” I said, trying to sound happy to be hearing from her.

  “You know that when I call you, it's for a damn good reason, don't you?” She said. Her voice was tense, but then it usually was when she was talking to me. Being the manager of someone like me wasn't easy, and she always told me I was the hardest client for her to work with.

  Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, uh, sorry...”

  “Sorry isn't going to save your ass this time, Brant. I'm 20 minutes away. We have something serious that we need to talk about.”

  That didn't sound good, at all. Gabriela never came to see me unless there was something bad going on. Last time, it was to tell me they canceled a whole month of my fights because I got into big trouble.

  “Okay, I'm going to jump in the shower. You still have my spare key?” She insisted on having one, because in the beginning I was a little flaky with showing up to fights on time. I quickly learned that acting like a diva wouldn't be accepted, but I really put my career in jeopardy for a while there.

  “Of course I do.” She hung up, and I jumped up to clean up my apartment before she arrived. I had let it get dirty because what was the point of cleaning if I wasn't going to see Vivian?

  Tossing underwear and socks into my hamper, and grabbing empty boxes from various restaurants to throw in the trash, I dash around my apartment and spot clean.

  Once it was good enough, I jumped into the shower. Gabriela would be there soon to yell at me, and I think I knew what it was. I hadn't heard much from Francis or the other guy I jumped a week ago, except from a voice mail from Gabriela screaming at me because they were talking to MMA leadership about my future, and things weren't going very well for me.

  If she was coming over, I was either suspended for a while or completely banned from ever fighting again. I had to prepare myself for that possibility, and for the possibility that one of them were going to press charges for my assault.

  There was no doubt about it: I had fucked up, badly, and I was actually going to have to deal with the consequences for once.

  I wished that Vivian was there to talk me through it, or just to be there with me while I got the bad news. Her hand would have felt so nice in mine. With her there, none of the possible outcomes would have been too scary.

  But she wasn't there, and it was my own fucking fault.

  –

  Once I'm at Brant's apartment, I get those butterflies in my stomach that tell me to go back. Just go home. Don't get involved in the drama anymore.

  I guess I'm a glutton for punishment, because I ignored all of that. One of my hands was carrying a plastic bag with food from Brant's favorite Chinese restaurant. I waited until someone else was going inside to slip into the apartment building behind them, then took the elevator up.

  When the elevator dinged and the door opened, the butterflies slowly started to die away. That was how I always was: nervous until the very last moment, and then everything felt fine and I was in control again.

  I was humming, walking down the hallway, when I noticed that Brant's door was open. Curious, I stepped forward. Maybe he was about to leave, or just came back in and didn't close the door properly.

  When I looked into the room through the crack, though, I saw an incredibly beautiful woman sitting on the arm of his couch. She had tanned skin and long black hair. Her lips were full, her waist small. Comparing myself to her left me feeling completely ugly.

  She was wearing an incredibly tight skirt and a cerulean blue blouse that showed off her ample cleavage. Brant was nowhere to be seen.

  I was trying to tell myself not to jump to conclusions when I saw Brant come out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. I gasped and dropped the food. Both Brant and the woman looked to the door.

  My feet carried me most of the way back to the elevator before someone grabbed my hand and spun me around. “Vivian, wait!”

  “No, I'm not going to wait! I'm not going to wait to watch you fuck her. God, you moved on fast.”

  He snorted. “That's rich, coming from you, but I'm not going to fuck her, Vivian. That's my manager.”

  “Your manager? Yeah, right.”

  He sighed and crossed his arms. “She is, and she's about to deliver some really shitty news. I know you're pissed off at me, and that's fine, but if you don't believe me, could you at least come and meet her? Listen to what she has to say. I could use some moral support.”

  “You always use me for moral support,” I said. “Did you ever think I might need some support?”

  “Viv, seriously. We can fight later. I lean on you because you're the only person I have, and you've been gone for years. Please come back and meet Gabriela. Be there for me. I might never be able to fight again.”

  I didn't want to tell him that I hoped that was the case. I was being awful, a real bitch, a
nd he didn't deserve that. “Alright, fine,” I said. “I'll be there for you, but then we have to talk.”

  “That's fine.” He took my hand. His skin was so warm, so soft. He led me back into his apartment, where Gabriela had picked up the Chinese food and set it on his kitchen table. She was standing, leaning against the wall.

  Stepping forward, I offered my hand. “Hi, I'm Vivian,” I said. She raised her eyebrows and looked to Brant, who nodded.

  “I've heard a lot about you. I'm Gabriela, I represent and manage Brant, scheduling his fights.” She smiled briefly, but it quickly fell. “Brant, I think you should sit down.”

  He nodded, sitting on his couch and pulling me down with him. He was still in just his towel, soaking wet next to me. So he was telling the truth, she really was his manager.

  –

  “So, what's the word? Am I completely fucked?” I asked. My hands were shaking, no matter how hard I pressed them against my thighs.

  Gabriela sighed and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “Basically, yes. You're suspended for 6 months, minimum, no fights. For those 6 months, you have to submit yourself to drug and alcohol testing every month and pass.”

  “That's bullshit!” I yelled. “I don't do drugs, and drinking isn't illegal!”

  “They know you weren't on drugs, but it's standard procedure. You made an absolute fool of yourself, and this was what was agreed upon to keep you out of jail. Francis wanted you gone completely, you know. You're lucky you got off this easy.” She clasped her fingers together, watching me for a response. “Six months without any alcohol. You're not an alcoholic, you're just an idiot, so that shouldn't be too hard. Maybe you could lean on Vivian to keep you clean.”

  “What if I fail a month?”

  “Then the countdown starts all over, and you need to go another 6 months.” She shrugged. “Look, this is just how it's going to be. How much have you saved up.”

  “You know how much,” I said. I didn't want to tell Vivian that I'd been saving up in case something like this happened. I didn't know what I would do with the money.

  Gabriela nodded. “Well, I suggest you start planning for the future. Put that money to good use, and stop drinking. Settle down. Be good.”

  Vivian took my hand. Hers were shaking, too. She leaned over and put her head between her knees. “I don't feel so good,” she groaned, and then she started puking. Grabbing her, I helped her to the bathroom where she fell to her hands and knees and threw up the rest of her stomach into the toilet.

  “Oh god, what do I do?” I asked Gabriela.

  “Step back, I'll take care of her. Go clean up the mess in the living room.” She pushed past me and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

  –

  “Have you been feeling sick for a while?” Gabriela asked me. Her brown eyes were soft as she looked me over, examining my face. “My mom was a nurse, so I picked up a few tips. Tell me what's wrong.”

  “I've been tired and just kind of icky feeling,” I admitted. “For about a week now.”

  Her dark eyebrows shot up. “I see. And you're sexually active?”

  I gave a surprised laugh, but she only watched me for my reply. “Uh, kind of.”

  “Let me guess: About 2 to 3 weeks ago?” She said, handing me the mouthwash from Brant's bathroom cabinet. I nodded as I swished the gross taste from my mouth. After throwing up, I felt much better, though I felt bad for Brant having to clean up after me. “That's what I thought. I know this is probably going to be scary for you to consider, but I think you should take a pregnancy test.”

  As I spit out the mouthwash, my heart sank into my stomach and I felt like I might puke again. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I figured you might. You've got the same symptoms I had with my first.”

  I was surprised. “You have kids? You keep yourself in really good shape.”

  Chuckling, she waved me off. “With my job, I'm constantly on my feet. Plus, I don't just manage them, I do mixed martial arts, too. It's a lot of fun if you don't do it competitively. I had to give it up when I got pregnant.” She thought for a second. “It's Brant's, I assume?”

  I nodded, blushing hard. I wondered if she thought I was a fool for getting caught up with someone like Brant, but if she knew about me she had to know about our past.

  “He'll make a good father,” she said. “But he has to get out of the business, and he needs to calm down. Talk to him about that money he has. He could start a business with it.”

  “I'm not sure he would listen to me,” I admitted.

  Gabriela shook her head with a knowing smile. “If he knew you were pregnant with his child, he would do anything you said without a single complaint. Don't write him off so easily. He has a lot of strengths and talents that he won't even tap into, not without your help.”

  “Did you two…?” I asked, blushing harder somehow. “You just know a lot about him. You don't have to answer me.”

  “I was married when we met,” she smiled. “I haven't slept with him, I just know he's a good man. I think of him as a friend, and I know that he could do anything if he stopped getting in his own way.”

  Nodding, I gave her a weak smile. “I'll try my best.”

  “Good. Now, then.” She opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Brant was washing a towel in the kitchen sink, but turned to watch us as we came out. “I'm going to go. You two have a lot to talk about, like what Brant's going to do for half a year without fighting.” She gave him a sharp glance. “I know you have enough money to sitting around on your ass doing nothing, but if Vivian tells me you've done that, I'll make you suffer for it.”

  Brant raised his hand and gave her an innocent look. “Hey, I never said I wasn't going to do anything!”

  “Good.” She grinned from Brant, then to me, and with a nod she stepped out of the apartment. “Brant, give Vivian my number and text me hers. I'd like to keep in touch with her, and she's probably more likely to answer my calls than you are.”

  She was gone before he answered. An awkward silence fell over the apartment, until Brant stepped up to me and pulled me into his arms. “I don't know what to do.”

  I let him hug me in silence. There wasn't anything that I could say to comfort him, but I think just holding me was enough for him. When he pulled away, he tried to wipe away a tear without me noticing, then sniffled and smiled. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yeah, a bit. I think I have the flu or something.” I winced as I lied to him, but I couldn't tell him I might be pregnant. I had to wait until I could take a test, which definitely wasn't happening until I could get back home.

  But he looked so sad that my heart broke just looking at him. It was like he was aimless.

  What would be the harm in finding some comfort with each other? I was stressed out, too. And if I was pregnant, there couldn't be any harm in having sex now.

  I gave in, completely abandoning any sense of propriety. Throwing my arms around his shoulders, I pulled him in for a deep kiss, a kiss that he returned with passion. His tongue slipped into my mouth.

  I moaned. “Take me,” I said, my voice husky.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked into my mouth. I only nodded, then screamed with a laugh as he picked me up in his strong arms and carried me into his bedroom. He laid me onto the bed and climbed on top of me, playing with my breasts through my shirt.

  The butterflies were back, but they were more pleasant as we made out. Our hands explored one another, groping and stroking. I grabbed his firm buttocks and squeezed them, bringing his hard body closer to mine. His fingers brushed under my chin as his mouth devoured mine.

  “I'm sorry for everything,” he said, pulling away for a moment.

  I shook my head. “I'm sorry, too. We've both made mistakes.” I pressed my lips to his again, and wished they never had to part.

  Chapter Ten

  With his hands, Brant ever so lightly brushed my jawline and looked at me with such passion. I relished
in his touch as he caressed my features. I had never realized how much I wanted a man to touch me tenderly, to have rough fingers slide against my sensitive areas.

  When he kissed me, I didn't resist. I couldn't. It was passionate and full of fire and I just wanted him to claim me! My whole body accepted the pressure and the sensations, the tingles and heat that arose from between my legs. I was drunk with desire.

  I held my breath for just a moment, melting into him. My hands clutched his shirt. His soft, warm lips pressed against my own, our tongues tangling together.

  I pushed him away for a moment, my breath ragged. “Do you have a condom?”

  “I do,” he said, grinning. Leaning back, he opened the drawer to his bedside table and pulled out a condom wrapped in foil. While he tore the package open, I removed his towel and took his hard cock in my hand.

  It was thick and hard, but the skin was soft as I touched it. Once the condom was out of the package, I took it from him and rolled it over the tip of his cock. Brant undressed me, throwing my clothes onto his bedroom floor before straddling me again.

  He kissed me, over and over. His cock pressed against my stomach, his hands tangling in my hair. And when his mouth did finally leave my lips, his taste lingered.

  Tilting my head to the side, he kissed my neck and sucked in a bit of my flesh, breaking the blood vessels to leave a bruise. A mark of ownership, a claim on me that I happily accepted. It would be a lovely bruise.

  A shiver cascaded down my back. I wrapped my arms around Brant's torso, my hands stroking his back gently. His teeth grazed my skin again. It felt so good. “Brant,” I moaned, my nails digging into his skin.

  Brant slid his hand over my breasts, cupping them. With his fingers clamped on my nipple, he growled and bit my neck again in just the right spot. I almost orgasmed then and there! Gasping, my toes curled and my fingers dug even deeper into his skin.