Unattainable (No Rival Book 5)

by Charity Parkerson

  Even though Brian kept his gaze locked on the men skating across the ice, he was completely focused on every sound coming from inside the bathroom. When the door finally swung wide and Terry reappeared, Brian’s shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d become until that moment.

  A dark blue towel hung low on Terry’s hips. His wet hair was slicked back, away from his face, leaving every chiseled line visible. As Brian looked on, a drop of water slid down Terry’s bare chest. Brian tore his gaze away. Terry was every bit as covered as he’d been before his shower. If Brian was being honest with himself, the towel probably hung even lower than his shorts had. That detail didn’t matter in the least. There was something about knowing one tiny tug would be all it would take to have Terry right where he wanted him. Was it a bad time? Hell yeah, but his heart didn’t care.

  If Terry was the least bit concerned over Brian being in his bed, he didn’t show it. As he stumbled toward the edge, Brian realized he obviously didn’t intend to put any fucking clothes on. Terry set one knee on the mattress next to him. Brian’s thoughts scattered in every direction. He scrambled to decide what he was supposed to do. Should he scoot over? Sit up? Run for his life? The final one seemed a solid plan. In the end, he did none of those things. Showing an impressive amount of skill for a drunk man, Terry began climbing over Brian while still managing to hold onto his towel. Brian rolled with him. He was completely helpless to stop it as Terry used Brian’s chest to steady himself. He hovered above him for a second. Their gaze met. Terry’s was hooded. Brian’s mind ceased working.

  “Don’t move.”

  Brian held still at the order, not even daring to breathe. “I am.”

  Terry dove-fell face first into the spot next to him on the bed. “Could’ve fooled me,” he grumbled into the mattress. “Whole goddamn room is spinning.” Brian stared hard at the ceiling unable to as much as look at the man beside him. “You won’t go away, will you?”

  “I won’t go away,” Brian promised.

  “Funeral’s tomorrow.”

  “You won’t be alone,” Brian assured him.

  “Thank you for showing up.”

  Brian finally turned his head, bringing Terry into focus. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” Brian had never meant anything more in his life.

  * * * * *

  Anna’s funeral was every bit as hard as Terry feared. Betty held up well, but he wasn’t fooled. She would have a rough road ahead of her. The loss of his brother still sneaked up on him, punching him in the throat at times he least expected. The all too familiar feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him. He would’ve never survived the day without Brian at his side. The man was something special, no doubt about it.

  When the time came for the first handful of dirt to be tossed onto the casket, Terry walked away. It was the one thing he couldn’t do. Even though he moved in the opposite direction of the truck, Brian followed without question. With no real plan to do so, he ended up sitting on the stone bench at the foot of Gray’s grave. He made sure to leave enough room for Brian. Taking the hint, Brian sat at his side. Terry stared at his brother’s name etched in stone.

  “Who takes care of you?” Terry wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but suddenly he realized he really wanted to hear Brian’s answer.

  “What do you mean?”

  Terry shrugged. “McKenna says you took care of her after the whole Kurt debacle. Now, you’re here with me. Who does this for you?”

  Brian stared off in the distance. He seemed to take the question seriously, giving it careful thought before answering. “If you’d asked me that a few months ago, I would’ve said I take care of me.”

  “What happened a few months ago?”

  “I met you.”

  Terry stared at Brian’s profile willing him to meet his gaze. He needed to see his eyes. Brian didn’t look. Instead, he nodded toward Gray’s grave.

  “What was he like? I mean, I’ve heard McKenna’s version of him but what’s yours?”

  It was for the best. Hurting Brian wasn’t something he ever wanted to do. Openly loving him could only destroy him. Terry allowed the change in topic to stand.

  “He was wicked, in intelligence and sense of humor. There wasn’t a single topic he didn’t know at least a little something about. If he couldn’t charm someone with his genius, he’d have them rolling with laughter at his bawdy sense of humor.” An image of Gray came to life in Terry’s mind and he smiled in spite of himself. “It only took one look at him to see his mind was always on the move, calculating every situation.” Terry snorted. “The funny thing is, for the most part I’m not surprised he was too much for this world. McKenna is the only exception to that statement. When it came to her, he was completely human. She reduced him to the basest of males and it was a beautiful thing. It was also hilarious to watch.” Terry chuckled at the memory. “I’d never seen him blush or stutter before her. After her, he was a complete mess.” Terry’s smile fell. No one ever asked him about Gray. He hadn’t realized how much he felt robbed for it. Brian gave him the chance to share him, keeping his memories alive. “Thank you.”

  Brian glanced over. A flash of surprise crossing over his features. “For what?”

  “Putting up with me,” Terry answered without hesitation.

  With a snort, Brian looked away. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I gave you my social security number before confessing I’d been a fat kid with braces that night you got me drunk, so you know”—he shrugged—“you could steal my identity or some shit.”

  Terry’s breath caught in his throat. He eyed Brian’s profile, searching for any sign he remembered more about that night than he’d let on. When he didn’t respond, Brian turned his head again, meeting his gaze. His expression was clear of any hint of emotion, and Terry released his pent-up breath.

  “I have had my eye on a Neiman Marcus gold card.” When Brian smiled, the heavy weight that had been sitting on Terry’s chest since learning of Anna’s death, lifted a bit. If they were never more than they were right now, he would still be a better man for having met Brian.

  * * * * *

  Although it was Wednesday and they were spending the day sparring with the vets, Brian couldn’t take another minute of temptation. Since the night he’d spent sleeping at Terry’s side a week ago, he’d been unable to think about anything else. It had bordered on torture. When he’d slipped out of the bed for a trip to the bathroom the next morning, Terry had still been sleeping soundly but when he’d returned Terry had been gone. After a short search, he’d found him with his head stuck in the freezer, searching for something to fix them for breakfast. He’d never said a word about that night and Brian didn’t either. But it was there, sitting in between them.

  Thankfully, Brian’s first match was in two days. He wouldn’t be forced to endure another day alone with Terry due to pre-bout weigh-ins. In an act of pure desperation, Brian invited McKenna to join them for their usual morning routine with the promise of buying her lunch afterward. He hoped her presence would blunt the impact of Terry. It didn’t work.

  “Again!” Terry yelled, tugging Brian to his feet. Circling him on the mat, all of Brian’s building frustration rushed to the surface, hitting its breaking point. Without any real intent in doing so, he shot forward, kicking out. He swept Terry’s feet out from beneath him. Without waiting for him to recover, Brian followed him down. Terry scrambled to avoid him but wasn’t quick enough. In his attempt to get away, Terry ended up flat on his stomach when Brian pinned him to the mat. In spite of his inability to break Brian’s hold, he laughed. Triumph heavily laced the sound. Even though they were practicing, Terry still observed the rules, tapping out. The moment Brian’s hold slackened, Terry rolled over onto his back. A luminous smile pulled at his lips. With his chest heaving from his attempt to catch his breath, Terry’s eyes shone in his happiness. Brian couldn’t look away.

  “If I still held the tit
le—that would’ve been your moment. Can you imagine? You’d be holding the world right now.”

  He already was.

  “Until Friday night,” Terry said, pushing himself from the floor. Brian’s gaze followed him all the way to the locker room until he disappeared inside.

  “He wants to fuck you.”

  Still half-upright from his attempt to stand, Brian whipped around at McKenna’s statement. The motion left him off balance. Lights popped behind his eyes. “What?” There was a moment, even as he watched her wave away his question, where he wondered if it had been him asking the question. The growl seemed over-the-top even to his ears.

  “The last I checked we still spoke the same language. Terry desires you in a sexual way,” McKenna clarified as if he didn’t understand the word “fuck”.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  Ever the intellect, McKenna tilted her head to one side, studying him. “Why? You’re attractive. That mocha skin tone coupled with your gorgeous eyes is a hell of a combination. Not to mention, you’re also the nicest person I’ve ever met. It makes sense he’d be drawn to you. The need to possess someone equal in strength is fairly common.”

  Brian shook his head. “In what world does that make sense? I don’t know the percentages or anything, but it’s not typical for a man to want another man sexually.”

  She blinked owlishly as if he was the one speaking a foreign language. “Now who’s being ridiculous?”

  He opened his mouth to respond. Nothing came out. Snapping his teeth together, he considered her words. Was he being blind? No. He didn’t believe so. “I stand by my statement. It’s not typical.”

  McKenna seemed to consider his words again before responding. “Well. I’m not sure what the actual numbers are, but in this case, Terry is gay. Therefore, I imagine the odds swing in your favor.”

  Once again, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “What?”

  McKenna nodded as if it had been a yes or no question. “I assumed you knew as much since you’ve been eating him alive with your eyes.”

  “What?” He repeated, for lack of anything more intelligent to say. Surely, he would’ve heard something before now. People in Terry’s position couldn’t avoid gossip. Even if such a thing wasn’t substantiated, there would’ve been rumors, whisperings.

  “Please tell me you don’t need me to explain the mechanics?” McKenna’s dryly spoken question pulled him from his thoughts.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then I don’t understand your problem.” She lifted one shoulder. “He wants you. You obviously want him too.” She shrugged again. “Oh look, there’s Cameron. I’ll go say hi while you change.”

  She trailed away leaving him alone with his thoughts. As Terry’s sister-in-law, McKenna would know more about the man’s personal life than anyone would. It wasn’t as if he could call her a liar.

  Inside the locker room, Brian sat down on the bench, staring at his bag. He peeled his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and wiped his face with it. With his mind on other things, it took a minute for the sound of sloshing water to penetrate his brain. Shifting positions, he peeked around the edge of the cabinets. The showers came into his line of sight. He regretted it immediately. With a large gap between the wall and curtain, he had a clear view of Terry. With his head tilted back, rinsing the shampoo from his hair, his entire body was bared to Brian’s gaze. He turned away immediately, not wanting to get busted ogling the guy, but damn. The image was now burned into his mind. It was every bit as delicious as he’d suspected. He couldn’t move. His dick was too hard. It paralyzed him. Never had he wanted anyone the way he did Terry. The knowledge solidified a decision for him. It had been growing for a while now. After his first fight, he wouldn’t train with Terry any longer.

  In spite of what McKenna had said, Terry hadn’t given him any real reason to hope the desire was mutual. He’d been nothing but good to Brian. There had been times when he thought he’d seen something in the man’s eyes. Most likely, it was wishful thinking on his part. This couldn’t continue. He’d experienced too many setbacks and losses already. Ruining his friendship with Terry and McKenna wasn’t an option.

  “You look lost.”

  The sound of Terry’s voice broke through Brian’s thoughts. With a white towel wrapped around his hips, Terry loomed over him. His upper body glistened with beads of water. Brian glanced away, fearing the hunger was written in every line on his face.

  “Just worrying about this weekend,” he lied. He was a tiny bit concerned, but it was more he didn’t want to fail Terry than he cared about losing the match.

  “Don’t. I’ll be at your side the entire time and I’m good luck.”

  Brian smiled in spite of himself. Before he could stop it from happening, he massaged the aching spot in the center of his chest.

  “I guess I’d better let you get a shower. McKenna’s probably starving and you know she’s likely to forget to eat if someone doesn’t make her,” Terry said.

  “Yeah,” Brian absently agreed. “I’d hate for Kurt to kill me for letting her wither away.”

  “He’s not allowed to touch you.” The fierce edge to Terry’s tone caused Brian’s head to snap around in his direction. The expression the man wore wiped Brian’s mind blank. “Never again. Do you understand?” He really didn’t, but he still nodded. “Good. I’ll see you Friday night.”

  As Terry walked away, Brian realized something important. He was truly, totally and royally fucked. No one else would do because somewhere along the way, he’d lost his heart.

  Chapter Four

  Terry could tell Brian was pumped. It was written in every move he made. The past three months of hard training was showing itself now that his moment was finally here. He was staring down his opponent, obviously doing his best to psych out the other man as the outside referee did his final equipment check. Passing inspection, Brian made his way inside the octagon while holding his adversary’s stare. The excitement of the crowd was almost tangible, their roar deafening. Between their raised voices, the commentators and the inside ref reading the rules, Terry could barely hear his own thoughts. He didn’t dare look away from Brian. In some small way, he hoped it lent him strength. If nothing else, Terry needed him to know he was right there with him all the way.

  He could’ve gone in as Brian’s cornerman, but he worried he’d be more of a distraction than encouragement. The position was too important. Instead, Terry enlisted Cameron’s help. Brian landed the blue corner since he was the less experienced of the two fighters and wasn’t favored to win. It was Brian’s first match since his injury. For that reason it seemed as if every one of his friends had turned up to show their support.

  With the exception of McKenna, Terry ignored them all. Occasionally, he would wrap his arm around her waist to keep her from getting jostled by the crowd. Otherwise, he remained focused on Brian. He didn’t imagine any of the No Rival gang was surprised by his neglect of them. Since his retirement, he’d withdrawn from everyone. Only McKenna and—he assumed—her husband Kurt knew the real reason why.

  “This shit has too many rules,” Kurt growled breaking into his thoughts. Even though it did seem to Terry as if it was taking an inordinate amount of time to get through them tonight, he felt the need to point out the obvious.

  “Yeah. Well. You remember what happened the last time Brian fought without them.” Kurt winced and Terry immediately regretted the words. During an underground and unsanctioned match, Kurt had been the one who’d broken Brian’s arm, knocking him out of contention for the title on the legal circuit. Terry knew Kurt carried enough guilt without him adding to it. Before he could apologize, Knox appeared at Kurt’s other side.

  “Goddamn. Are they still reading the fucking rules?”

  Some of the tension left his shoulders. A chuckle slipped past his lips. It seemed he wasn’t the only one on edge. Everyone understood how much was riding on this bout. Brian could recover from the loss, but for pride’s sake, h
e needed to win.

  McKenna snagged his attention. “Who is that guy prowling around the outside of the cage?” Following her line of sight, he spotted a man in his late forties wearing an expensive business suit. He paced the edge of the octagon, staring intently at everything happening on the mat.

  “He’s a World Divisional Exec,” Terry explained. “They’re at every match. At the end of the night, he’ll determine how bonuses for such things as best submission of the night will be awarded.” The bell rang, and—thankfully—Rhys picked up the explanation. When McKenna’s curiosity piqued she was full of endless questions. He couldn’t concentrate.

  Brian’s challenger had a longer reach and more experience. There was no way he wanted it as badly as Brian did. Not to mention, he hadn’t had Terry training him. A smirk touched Terry’s lips. No. He wouldn’t beat Brian. Biting back a laugh, he watched as the tattoo-covered man bounced around, attempting to draw Brian in. Other than the subtle shift of weight as Brian moved to the balls of his feet, he didn’t react. Light glimmered off his freshly shaved head and the Vaseline on his cheeks. Even from this distance, Terry could see the way his eyes followed the man’s motions, checking for weaknesses. Only because Terry had been sparring with Brian for weeks now did he see the strike coming. With panther-like grace, Brian leaped, striking the man in the side of the head. So, it began.

  The match was set for five rounds at five minutes each and it went four. Terry thought he’d die of heart failure before Brian managed to snag hold of his rival’s legs and take him to the mat for submission. Not until they announced Brian’s name as the winner did Terry draw an easy breath. Unfortunately, the moment they did, a realization hit. Brian didn’t need him any longer. Glancing around, he recognized his time was over. While everyone else rushed forward, hoping to congratulate Brian, Terry stole his chance and slipped away.