Dirty Biker (An MC Motorcycle Romance) (The Maxwell Family)
Page 41
I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. I gave the house one more glance. I saw the image of my sister, playing soccer in the front yard when she was seven and she decided she wanted to be Mia Hamm. As crazy as it sounds, I waved at her. She waved back with that big, classic, Emma smile. I let the tears overwhelm me and I cried all the way back to my apartment.
I saw Kristie’s car as I got close to the parking lot so I circled the block once and cleaned up my face. When I finally pulled into the lot, she got out of her car and came over to meet me.
“How are you doing?” she said. She sounded sincere, or I wanted to believe that she was.
“Up and down,” I told her. She hugged me and my first thought was how much better it would feel to hug Alexa.
“You want to go get a drink or something?” she said.
“No. I have a fight tomorrow. I don’t drink before a fight. It gets me all bloated.”
“Okay. Maybe I could just hang out with you for a while then?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Why I didn’t just say no? Why had I texted her back in the first place…I had no idea. I put myself into these situations. I guess the drama distracted me maybe from the grief. She followed me up to the apartment and we went inside. I got us both a bottle of water and we sat down on the couch. It was uncomfortable. I had no idea what to say to her.
“Ian?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“I know things have been bad between us lately, but I am really sorry about what you’re going through. I wish you would let me help.”
“I appreciate that,” I told her, “but I’m not sure how you can.”
“You need a friend…”
Reality washed over me and I said, “We never really were friends, Kristie. We were lovers…at best.” She looked hurt and I felt bad, but it was the truth. That was the big difference between her and Alexa. I really felt like Alexa was my friend, not just because she was Emma’s friend, but because she and I legitimately had a lot in common.
“I don’t remember it that way,” she said. “We did a lot of other things besides sex. The sex was fantastic.” She looked at me as if looking for confirmation. I kept my face neutral. Once again I was thinking, “Not like it is with Alexa.”
“But we did other things.”
I finally nodded. If that’s how she wanted to remember it, I guess it didn’t really hurt anything and it made her feel better. It was at that moment it dawned on me that as crazy as I accused her of being…maybe a lot of it was my fault. How many times have I texted her lately because I was desperate for company, only to end up telling her to get lost?
“Hey Kristie,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I think I owe you a really big apology.”
“For what?”
“All of this back and forth stuff. It’s not fair. I tell you we’re over and I tell you to leave me alone and then I call you and tell you to come over. It has to be confusing. I’m sorry.”
She looked surprised and it made me feel even worse to think my apology would shock her.
“It is confusing,” she said. “But it’s okay. I know you’ve been through so much and I understand that you’re confused yourself. You’re spending time with that…the redhead. She was a friend of Emma’s right?”
“Yeah. Her name is Alexa.”
“I’m sure it makes you feel closer to Emma to be with one of her friends…but when you have that out of your system, I want you to know that I’ll still be here for you.”
“Being with Alexa started out about Emma,” I told her, “but since I’m telling you the truth here, I have to tell you that it’s not about Emma anymore. I really like her…”
“Then why isn’t she here with you? Why did you text me?”
“Honestly? Because I’m an ass. I keep telling you that we’re over and then I get upset or lonely and I text you back. It’s wrong of me.” I set the water down and stood up. “I’m sorry, Kristie. My head has been so screwed up. The truth is that we both know this is not going anywhere, and I need to stop doing this to you…and to myself.”
She stayed where she was on the couch.
Looking up at me, she said, “Seriously? You’re kicking me out, again?”
“This was just a bad idea and I’m really sorry. My head has been really screwed up lately and I don’t have any right to do this to you…”
She stood up then and pressed her lips to mine. It felt foreign to be kissing her, and wrong. It wasn’t only because I wanted Alexa so badly…it was because I knew if I kissed her back…if I had sex with her, I’d be using her. I also know that I’d be perpetuating her obsession. I needed to put a stop to this, once and for all. I took her arms and gently held her back.
“Kristie, you need to go, okay? We just need to make a clean break here. I won’t do this to you again.” She tried to come towards me again. She had a hell of a time with being rejected. I held her back and used my hold on her to point her towards the door. Then out of guilt, I apologized again and said, “One of these days, you’ll find someone that makes you happy. But not if you keep hanging around waiting for things to work out with me.” She didn’t say anything. She just looked at me with hurt in her eyes and left. It was the second time in two days that I’d made a woman feel like shit. I was on a roll.
Chapter Seven
Alexa
The next day I went online and did a little job searching. I filled out a few applications, but my heart wasn’t really into it. I kept checking my phone every five minutes to see if I’d missed a call or a text. By that evening I still hadn’t heard from Ian. Dad got home when I was getting ready for the fight. I lied and told him I was going to meet Heather. I wasn’t in the habit of lying to my father, really. But until I knew where Ian and I stood, I didn’t want to talk to him and let his opinions…all negative, I’m sure, seep into my brain and influence my decisions.
I went to the fight and sat in my seat again near the back and waited. I had that tickle in my belly that I always got when I knew I was going to see him. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it if this thing between us was really over. I’d gotten even more attached than I had let myself admit. I even really liked this fight stuff, which was weird. I’d started using fight terms as analogies. For example, when he walked away from me yesterday, I felt like he had punched me in the gut.
I heard the crowd roar and everyone got to their feet as Ian made his way down the aisle. I stood up too, feeling the butterflies in my stomach take flight at the sight of him. People were chanting his name over and over. He looked almost oblivious to it and sadly, it reminded me again of yesterday and how oblivious he had been to my pleas.
My heart was beating hard like it always did when he took his place in the octagon. It was a mixture of fear of him getting hurt and excitement at watching him win. Even from back as far as I was sitting, the determination on his face was apparent. His name was still rolling off the announcer’s tongue as he turned and raised his hand in the air towards the crowd. He was confident and I thought that was so sexy. I could see the way he was focused on only the fight in the set of his jaw and I watched as he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then open them at the sound of the bell.
Ian and his opponent, a guy named Bustin’ Billy, came to the center of the ring. The referee did his talk and they hit fists and separated…until the bell rang. As Ian came out towards Billy, I couldn’t help but look at his chiseled abs and chest and remember the last time I got to trace the muscles with my hands. I wanted to do it again…right now. The two men were circling each other, fists up…Ian’s eyes looked like a predator’s and I thought if I was Billy, I’d be very afraid.
Ian struck suddenly without warning, his fist connecting against Billy’s midriff. His punches were solid and quick and in rapid succession. Billy’s fist came up after the third punch and headed for the side of Ian’s face, but Ian moved in time for it to fly right by and returned almost immediately wit
h a right to Billy’s stomach that doubled him over. A left hook while he was bent in half sent him sprawling onto the canvas floor.
Billy rolled away as Ian pounced and they wrestled around on the floor for a while, both men failing to get the upper hand. When the buzzer rang the referee had to urge them apart. It was the first one of Ian’s fights I’d ever watched where it seemed like there was something personal between him his opponent.
Ian’s trainer was on one knee talking to him furiously. Whatever he was saying, it didn’t look like Ian was listening. He looked like he just couldn’t wait for the bell to ring again. When it did he jogged out, right into Billy’s fist. His head flew back, but before Billy could even get off another swing Ian threw out a jab that landed hard on Billy’s chin. When his head was back, Ian went for his ribs. He landed one hard punch to Billy’s side before the other man managed to get away. Ian tried to land a roundhouse kick next, but Billy spun back and threw his massive arm out and connected with Ian’s legs, knocking him down. Ian went down hard on his back and Billy jumped on him, trying to pin him. Ian was able to bring his legs up and get ahold of Billy in a scissor hold and flip him off. Billy was quick; I had to give him that. He scrambled to his feet before Ian got up and he was ready for a thunderous right cross that landed on the side of Ian’s face. Ian barely flinched and came back at him with a series of punches and jabs, not stopping until he had him backed against the mesh and the buzzer sounded for the end of round two.
I watched as his trainer put a towel across Ian’s shoulders and handed him his drink. Ian squeezed whatever it was into his mouth and the trainer started talking again. Once again, Ian seemed to be ignoring him. I felt better…maybe it wasn’t just me.
Ian came out on the third round looking like he just wanted to finish this. Billy threw a jab at him and he dodged it, coming back with a thunderous hook into his opponent’s midriff. Billy’s grunt was audible but he didn’t go down. He tried getting off his own hook but before he did, Ian snapped back with a jab that landed directly in the center of his face and an immediate uppercut which did knock him to the floor on his back. Ian waited and as soon as Billy rolled over to try and push himself up, he pounced down on him and wrapped his arm around Billy’s neck. He pulled up and Billy struggled with him for almost a full minute before he had to concede defeat. He raised his hand and let it drop, twice. Ian got up and stood there, breathing hard and waiting. The referee checked on Billy and then let his trainer help him get up and go back to his side of the cage before turning to Ian and holding up his arm. He won. Again. I was impressed as usual and full of adrenaline myself and selfishly happy because I thought that would also mean he would be in a good mood and he would talk to me. I was wrong.
I got up before he started down the aisle and I waited near the door he always disappears through in the back. He was smiling as he came out of the octagon and on the way down the aisle, he even high-fived a few guys and signed an autograph…and then he saw me and he stopped. I mean, literally stopped…dead in his tracks. People started crowding around him and I think he realized that he couldn’t just stand there so he came my way again and when he got there, he reached for the door…like he was just going to walk right past me.
“Ian…”
“What are you doing here, Alexa?” It was a knife straight through the heart.
“I came to watch you fight. I’d really like to talk to you too.”
“I have an interview after this. I need to hit the shower. I don’t have time for this Alexa.”
“Make time,” I told him, getting pissed off now. “I’m not leaving until you agree to talk to me.”
“Shit! I really don’t have time for this.” That seemed to be the theme lately.
“Really? Because I get the feeling that you just want me to disappear so you don’t have to break up with me to my face. It’s not going to happen. If you don’t want to see me anymore then man up and tell me.”
He sighed. “That’s not it, Alexa…”
“Then what is it?”
“Ian!” His trainer was calling to him.
“I need to go. Meet me at Fatte Albert’s tomorrow at noon. We’ll talk then.”
“Okay, I’ll be there…but make sure that you are too,” I told him. Fatte Albert’s was a pizza parlor near his apartment.
“I will,” he said. He gave me a sad look and then jogged off to meet his trainer. I would have liked to talk tonight and get it over with, so I could stop obsessing and get to sleep. But, it was more than I had to start with, so I was happy.
Chapter Eight
Ian
I’m not sure what the sound was that startled me awake, but I was thankful for it. I was having a nightmare…again. Since Emma died, I had them almost every night. I only remembered parts of them, but they were all about my sister being dead, and sometimes in the dream I was there with her…dead too. I woke up hot, with my body bathed in a cold sweat. The sheets would be soaked with it and twisted up like restraints around my arms and legs. My heart hammered like a rabbit’s against my rib cage and I would have to sit there and tell myself that it was dark because it was night and the shades were closed…not because I was dead and in a box in the ground. And then I would remember that Emma was. Some nights, like tonight, I’d have to get out of bed and empty my stomach into the toilet after that realization. When I finished doing that, I just let myself slide down onto the cold linoleum floor and I sat there and wondered when this would ever get better. When was I ever going to be free of this cloying grief that came out of nowhere and attached itself around my neck like a weight, dragging me down…pulling me into the deep end of the ocean…?
I sat there until my heart calmed down and the nausea passed and then I went into the kitchen for a bottle of water. The clock on the stove said five a.m. I probably wasn’t going to get any more sleep this morning because the first thought I had when I looked at that clock was, “Seven hours until I see Alexa.” Now that I was awake and I’d left the nightmare in the dark…I would spend the daylight hours obsessing over a woman I’d promised to leave alone. In my defense…I was trying. She was the one that wouldn’t let it go. She wasn’t going to let me just walk away. I was upset about that to a point, but in a way, I was glad she cared that much.
I nursed the water for a long time, not wanting to throw my stomach back into an upheaval and then I changed my clothes and went for a run. I was hoping the cool air would clear my head, but with each pound of my foot against the pavement I thought of a new reason why meeting Alexa face to face was a bad idea.
When I got home, I showered and went to the gym again. I was beating myself up, exercising way too much and eating way too little. But, it was the only thing that kept the thoughts in my head from driving me crazy…even a little bit. I had no idea how to look Alexa in the eye and lie to tell her that I didn’t want to see her any longer, because the truth was, I wanted her more than ever. While I ran, I thought about it and while I worked out, I thought about it again. I didn’t come to any conclusions. I wondered if I should just be honest with her and tell her that her father pointed out that I was hurting her. Maybe he had it all wrong and she’d tell me that and we’d move on from there…somehow I doubted it would be that easy.
Chapter Nine
Ian
Just before noon I walked to the pizza parlor, dragging my feet. I was late and she probably thought that I wasn’t coming. I could picture her sitting there, thinking what a gutless son of a bitch I was that I couldn’t even break up with her in person…and she would be right. The thing she had wrong though was that I wanted to break up with her. That’s why this was so fucking hard. I never wanted anything less in my life.
I pushed open the door to the crowded little pizza parlor in the brick building, buried and almost invisible in the heart of the city. It was one of those places that attracted locals and got a lot of delivery and take-out business, but someone from out of town would probably never see it and walk inside because of the outs
ide décor. They were missing out though. There was nothing better than their pizza. The crust was crunchy on the outside but it didn’t taste like cardboard. The toppings always tasted fresh where sometimes at other places, the cheese could taste a little bit overcooked or congealed. It was casual and laidback, but the food was good enough that you could get away with taking a girl there on the first date. I knew, because I’d done that more than once.
I saw Alexa sitting near the back. She was sipping on a Coke and she hadn’t seen me yet. She had on a pair of jean cut-offs and a pink T-shirt with white roses or something on it. Her shiny red hair was down around her shoulders and she barely had any makeup on. She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen and I suddenly felt like I wanted to throw up again. I was so close to turning around and walking out…but then she looked up and noticed me and it was too late. Taking a deep breath and trying to man up, I went over to where she was sitting and sat down.
“Hi,” she said. Her eyes looked sad or nervous or something and I felt bad.
“Hey,” I said, sliding into the seat across from her. “Did you order?”
“No. I’m not really hungry. I just wanted to talk.”
“What about?” I asked her. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t want to be with her. It would be the biggest lie I ever told.
She sighed loudly and said, “Really, Ian? This is ridiculous. We’re not kids. Can you please just tell me what has been going on with you, like an adult?”
I took a little bit of offense at that comment. I may have taken more, if she hadn’t been right. “I’ve just had a stressful week. You want pepperoni or just cheese?”
“I just said I’m not hungry.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She looked at me like I was crazy…and again, I don’t blame her. I got up and went to order a pizza that neither of us wanted. I was stalling as much as I could. While I was up there, I got myself a drink and went back to join her again. I sat the number plate they gave me at the edge of the table and she watched me until I was settled and then she said,