Guys Like You

by Vivian Kohlman

  “Then you don’t have to leave my arms until you’re feeling back to normal.”

  “That may take a while.”

  “That’s ok. You’ll just have to come to work with me, and to the gym, and go with me to get the cars detailed and to...”

  “Well, Maybe I’ll recover faster than I thought. We’ll see how it goes,” I joked.

  He and I sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping on our drinks and relaxing while people watching. The partygoers around us were dancing, doing shots, kissing—it was quite a contrast to our chill area.

  “King, I love you. Like I never thought I’d love anyone. You are a part of my being and I know now that, if you wanted to, you could completely shatter me. I felt the cracks just last night; I felt it beginning and I didn’t know if I’d survive.”

  He moved his hand to the back of my head and pulled my face into his lips, softly kissing mine. The pressure grew along with the passion that surprised me by flaring up. His kiss ignited a fire inside of me—one that I thought would take days to regain since I was hurt so badly. I inhaled trying to take him inside of me any way possible.

  The position we were sitting in wasn’t very conducive to kissing, so stepped off him and I straddled him in his chair, never breaking contact with his lips. I didn’t care that my short skirt rode up—no one could see us, and King had his searing hot hands on the top of my thighs, keeping them warm. That wasn’t a move I’d normally do, but I felt raw. I did whatever felt good.

  I let my mind go completely blank and just focused on the feeling of my skin on his, with no thought of this week, or norms, or what people around us would think.

  My legs were hanging over his, my lips controlled his mouth, and my hands were on his face while I completely devoured his lips. It felt like I was starving and he was the food I needed.

  He held me tight and I could feel his hands rubbing my back and sides as we continued to kiss. All I could thing was that I’ve never needed him inside me more than I do right now.

  I focused on his kiss so much that I forgot to breath enough and I started to pant. When one of his large, warm hands clasped onto my waist and squeezed tight, I thought I would lose it.

  “Please,” I said between gasps of air.

  “Let’s go,” he said standing with my legs wrapped around his waist and our lips still attached. I slowly released him from my grip and allowed my legs to fall to the ground. I hated knowing I had to pull away—even the slightest—but the only way we’d get to our room was to walk there.

  He kept one arm around me, holding me tightly to his side, and used his other hand to put his phone back in his pocket and grab the ice bucket that contained the still unopened bottle of champagne.

  And that’s how we walked to the elevator, partially because it was super crowded at the pool and throughout the casino, and partially because we didn’t want to let go. We held each other tight, and we walked through the crowds to the elevator.

  Thankfully, the butler on duty was waiting near the elevator door and recognized us; he took the bucket from King’s hand and entered the elevator with us, swiping his card for our floor. The butler walked with us into our suite and King asked him to put the champagne on the balcony—the butler grabbed two champagne glasses on his way out.

  “I took the liberty of turning on the space heater—outside’s a bit chilly this high up,” the butler told us on his way back to the elevator. It looks like we have a nice cozy place to chill now.

  “Do you want to head out to the balcony?” I asked.

  King put both hands on my face and resumed his impassioned kissing for a minute, then he picked me up and carried me to the balcony. I didn’t care where he took me, as long as it ended with us making love. I needed to be close to him—skin-on-skin. I needed to forget this week and all of the bad feelings that wove through my emotions.

  The balcony was private—we’re on the top floor and it’s off to the side. Absolutely no one could see us; and the space heater was large enough to heat most of the balcony.

  King set me down on my feet and threw the large, long cushions of the outside couches onto the floor. As I opened the champagne bottle and filled our glasses, King covered the cushions with one blanket and laid another blanket on top for warmth. I quickly realized we were going to spend some time out here—and I couldn’t wait to get naked.

  So much for me needing time to get over this—King setting the mood is definitely getting me over my negative emotions quickly. At least, I can ignore them for a little while.

  When the bed was set up to his liking, he took me in his arms, sweeping me off my feet and laying me on top of the cushions. He knelt in front of me and paused, just staring in my eyes.

  “Princess, every day I fall more in love with you. I don’t think you understand how bound to you I am. I fucking lost it this week, over and over. I can’t live with you mad at me, or hurting. And this week…yeah, it killed me. I know you had every right—I see things from your point-of-view. I get it. But I’m still pretty fucked up about it.”

  I smiled at him and cupped the side of his face. “I know, babe. This week sucked, but I really don’t have the energy to relive it right now. Can we just ignore all that’s happened for tonight? I’m so mentally tired…I’m so emotionally beat up. I just need a night to forget…”

  “You got it. I’ll make you forget,” he said before leaning down and kissing me slowly.

  Shortly after, we were naked and under the blanket together. I put my hands on his face and told him that I love him, and that nothing he did could change that. I swear I saw tears in his eyes. He tried to turn his face but I stopped him and stared at his watery eyes as I kissed him softly.

  “I promise you that I’ll be sure to think things through more thoroughly,” he said. “I’ll be sure that none of my actions ever make you cry again. Just please don’t give up on us, Ava. Never give up on me.”

  We then proceeded to have the most emotional sex we’ve ever had. It was thrilling and healing at the same time.

  He continued to make love to me slowly, not wasting any chance to show me how much he appreciates me and cares for me. There was no rush; we had all night to do what we could to repair our hacked up hearts.

  We stayed on the balcony for another hour or so, just staring at the dark sky and the few bright starts we could see through the haze of the city lights.

  I fell asleep in King’s warm arms and I felt completely at peace. So much so that I only woke when he lifted me up and carried me into the bedroom.

  Chapter 15

  Our friends and I planned a New Year’s Day brunch together, so when I woke up at eleven in the morning, I knew I had less than an hour to get ready and make it to the restaurant. We had a reservation at noon.

  I shook King awake and we hurriedly made ourselves presentable so we could meet up with our friends at Bardot Brasserie. As soon as we arrived, Miko walked up to us and said hello.

  “Thanks for babysitting me, Miko,” I said, slightly uncomfortable that King was by my side, undoubtedly fuming.

  “Don’t mention it. Just keep in mind that I’m here if you need me.”

  “She won’t,” King said.

  “I’m her friend, King,” Miko said, shifting his body to face him.

  Is it my imagination, or is Miko actually attempting to stand up to King? Is he crazy?

  “I know you’re her friend, just like the dozen other people we’re here on vacation with. But that’s all you are; I’m her boyfriend and Tori’s her best friend. Know your place,” King said in a menacing way, with a furious look on his face.

  “Enough,” I quickly interrupted, feeling the tension rise on both sides of the conversation. “The hostess is here. Let’s go to our table.”

  I grabbed King’s hand and quickly followed the hostess to try to create some space between them. We walked to a rectangular table and I put King at the head—we are all here for his fight, so I figured that was best—and I sat down next to
him. Magnus sat on the other side of me, relieving my fear that Miko would try to sit next to me. As a matter of fact, Miko sat at the opposite end of the table—directly across from King and far away from both of us. Dylan sat on the other side of King and began talking about the fight as the rest of our friends grabbed seats.

  OK, Miko taking the other end seat seems intentional. But whatever, I’m just going to act as if I’m not concerned with the two of them. King seemed OK to forget about him, too, paying much more attention to me and the others than sneering at Miko.

  When our first round of drinks were delivered, I said a toast to King’s victory and we all clinked glasses to him, and then to a happy new year in general. King seemed much more relaxed this morning than he’s been all week. I had a feeling that we were on our way to recovering.

  We were both overly affectionate with each other—I guess he too was happy to have things somewhat calmed down, and that this week was just about over. We’re not flying out until tomorrow, but the fight is over, as is our drama hopefully.

  Of course, things could never end that easily. At the end of brunch, King told me he had to do a final post-fight interview. Giorgio and Layla will both likely be there.

  “I want to be there, too,” I told him.

  “You don’t have to; I’m hoping it’ll be harmless, but who knows if they have something in mind to surprise me.”

  “That’s exactly why I want to be there. I want to witness—with my own eyes—everything that goes on. Every picture that’s taken, every conversation that’s had, I want to be there.”

  King smiled and said “OK, whatever makes you happy.”

  I felt strong enough to handle anything, even Layla. I had no desire to talk to her at all, but I wanted her to see King and I together…and I wanted her to see that she couldn’t affect us.

  I still couldn’t figure out if her act was all for show, or if she actually had feelings for King. I hoped it was the former, but I really had no way of knowing.

  We took our time at a lazy brunch with our friends, and returned to the suite with just enough time to get ready for the press event. I took my time getting ready, trying not to let my stress level build. I dressed somewhat casual, didn’t put much makeup on, and I kept my hair simple, but I know I looked good.

  We walked into the same arena where the fight took place, and went straight to the big table at the center of the presentation area. Rick was waiting for King, and showed him where to sit. I was led to the side where the audience was sitting, but in the front row.

  I sat and looked around, surprised by the amount of press and fans that showed up. I know it’s not just for King and Giorgio, but it was still overwhelming. King was completely unfazed by the attention.

  Giorgio wasn’t there yet, but his manager was. He and Rick were talking while the production assistants were confirming that the microphones were working and the lights were set correctly.

  “I’m here. The interview can begin,” Giorgio bellowed loudly, causing most of those waiting to look his way. Clearly he loved the spotlight. King looked at me and rolled his eyes.

  Giorgio strolled to the table and sat next to King. Layla was strutting behind him as if she was the center of attention. I had a feeling they had something up their sleeves for today. Luckily, Layla had the sense to not sit on the same side of the table as me; she sat directly across from me.

  The interview began with little ordeal; the reporter was asking the basic questions and providing the usual compliments. Until, that is, Giorgio was asked if his burning desire to fight King was now quenched, now that King has won two of the three of their fights.

  “Not by a long shot. I want to fight him again. I’m the better fighter; he knows it, I know it. But he won’t fight me.”

  “No, I won’t,” King said.

  “Why not?” the interviewer asked.

  “Because Giorgio and his cronies have gone out of their way to make my life hell with their lies and drama. I want nothing more to do with him, and we’ve agreed that we never have to see each other again.”

  That sparked interest with the reporter and some of the audience.

  “Can you tell us about that agreement?” she asked.

  “No,” King said.

  “Does it have anything to do with the love triangle between you two and Layla?” the reporter asked, nodding to Layla who was beaming in her seat.

  “There is no love triangle. There never was. Layla and I met two years ago, for one night. I had no idea she was dating Giorgio. He’s never forgotten about it, but she and I have never talked since.”

  “So all of the stories that have been going around? What was that about?”

  “That’s not a question for me—I had nothing to do with them.”

  “So what you said at the end of the fight, about not caring who Layla chose, that was true?”

  “Very.”

  “Giorgio, what do you have to say about this?”

  “What do I think about that? What should I? There was nothing going on—the press just made assumptions and took a little joke too far. You’ll need to talk to the press about that,” he said, shirking any responsibility or knowledge.

  “Okkaayy. Does this mean you and Layla are still together? That all is well?”

  “Yep, that’s what it means. And that I still want to fight King, if he’s got the balls to face me again.”

  “I kicked your ass last night, and I kicked your ass in LA. I don’t need to try again. And we were very clear—last night was the tiebreaker. We’re done now.”

  “You got lucky. I almost had you with that chokehold and you know it. You got lucky.”

  “It was you who got lucky with that hold; that never should have happened. And I got out of it, so…end of story.”

  “I want another fight. No bullshit this time. Just you and me.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” King said, looking at me with a smile.

  “Well, it looks like this rivalry isn’t over yet. Maybe your fans will see the two of you battle it out again?” the reporter asked coyly, not really expecting an answer.

  “No, they won’t. Do you have any other questions for me?” King asked, clearly over this whole interview. But the reporter continued with other questions about the fight, King’s training techniques, and what his future plans are.

  As he continued to answer her questions, Layla came over and sat next to me.

  “Hey, there,” she said.

  “Hello.”

  “Sorry if I was such a bitch this week. I was trying to create drama—give the press something to latch on to.”

  “All you succeeded in doing was pissing King and me off, and forcing the stories to be taken down anyway.”

  “Look, I just wanted to come by and apologize. And if King ever agrees to another fight, there won’t be any drama. This fight was enough to solidify Giorgio’s place as a professional fighter, and gain a small following.”

  “King won’t agree to another fight; he’s done. Goodbye, Layla,” I said dismissively.

  King and I were looking at each other. He looked like he was waiting to jump up and tackle Layla, but I stood up for myself just fine. Layla didn’t say anything more; she just got up and went back to her seat.

  I was glad that seeing her and Giorgio was anti-climactic—I don’t know if I could take another emotional incident.

  King and I left that last fight-related event with smiles on our faces—well, he smiled only after we were back in the Range Rover. Before then, he had a scowl on his face that was meant for Giorgio.

  “You’re not going to fight him again, are you?” I asked on our way back to the Cosmopolitan.

  “No. I said I wouldn’t, and I won’t. …but it is tempting to kick his ass again. That guy’s such a tool.”

  “King…”

  “I’m just fantasizing—no more fights for me.”

  ~~~~

  The rest of the day was spent relaxing in our room. Neither King nor I
wanted to leave the room to do anything—I needed some time to decompress and detach myself from the rest of the world, and I wanted King all to myself.

  We went to sleep early that night and slept in, then ordered room service and had a leisurely breakfast while watching the news. Yes, the opposite of exciting is what we were both in the mood for.

  Our friends were all either at a pool, bar, or casino having another fun-filled day in sin city—and they all tried to get us to meet up with them. We’d been in the room almost twenty-four hours by then; I was actually getting bored of it.

  Finally we gave in and agreed to have dinner as a group—there was a new restaurant the girls wanted to try out and by the time they made the request I talked King into a little socializing. Our compromise was to go to dinner, then head straight back to our suite.

  Not everyone met up with us; some of our friends were stuck winning or losing at the blackjack table so we had a table for eight and only six of us had shown up. After the appetizers arrived I figured no one else was going to show up.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  “Magnus, Jude, and Asli are all gambling and I think Viv is shopping still,” Dylan said. I noticed he left out an update on Miko and I was going to let it slide, but I couldn’t. I don’t want anything weird between King and Miko; when you start to leave people out of the conversation it usually creates tension down the road.

  “And Miko? Where is he?” I asked.

  King sat back in his chair—likely a subconscious act of disapproval that I care—and Dylan suddenly sat straight up, moving his eyes back and forth between King and me.

  “Uh…he thought he should get back home. He has some studying to catch up on,” Dylan said. I didn’t buy it, but I didn’t push. I just rolled my eyes and went back to reading the menu.

  “I hear you two had a little run-in,” Tori said to King.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” King replied.

  Tori smiled in that ‘you’re so full of shit’ way. “Well, that’s not how Miko saw it.”

  “Oh yeah? What did he have to say?” King asked.