“You never allow yourself to feel anything?”
He shook his head. “No. Not in the ring or out of it.”
Ava sank her teeth into the meat of her lip. He’d worked so hard at keeping people at arm’s length, he’d failed to see how the result affected him. She’d interviewed enough athletes to know they trained for the highs of winning. Over the years, she’d been told how nothing compared to the adrenaline rush of crossing the finish line, holding the title, or making the game-winning play.
Yet Mike didn’t feel anything.
“Then why do it?” she blurted out. “Why risk your health, your body, and your reputation if you don’t feel it? Why not get a day job, punching a clock instead of a heavy bag?”
He stilled. In an instant, she knew she’d pushed too far. Chances were he knew the answer to her question, but he wasn’t sharing the news with her. She inferred by his quietness that his reasons were deeply personal, why he kept fighting, especially if there was no joy in it.
She glanced down at the dashboard. “We need gas.”
He made a motion, gesturing to the exit sign, and she veered off the highway.
A stop at the gas station would give them both a chance to get some air, walk around, and hopefully start over.
***
Ava filled the tank. She thought they could make it another hundred miles before having to stop again, but Mike’s SUV was a real gas guzzler. Sixty-five dollars? Ava read the display on the pump. Good God. Her next car was going to be a hybrid.
She replaced the nozzle back in the pump and caught a glimpse of Mike walking out of the convenience store. He carried a Styrofoam cooler, ice, and bottles of water.
He pushed the glass door wide and sauntered through it. When he got to the car, he placed his purchase on the ground, then slipped a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He looked dark, dangerous, and oh so sexy. She caught herself staring and placed her attention on the car driving into the lot.
A bunch of girls pulled up beside him. High school, maybe college freshmen. Ava remembered those days. Carefree. Fun. Nothing on her mind but boys and clothes. Their music blared out of the vehicle and a few sang along to Miley Cyrus.
Parking inches away from Mike, one of the girls leaned out the window and whistled.
The passenger-side door opened, and a blonde stepped out. “Oh, baby,” she said to Mike while the girls inside the car giggled.
Part of her felt bad for Mike, not because he was being catcalled, but because if a woman showed any interest in him, he’d probably ignore her.
In Ava’s opinion, what Mike needed more than anything was personal contact.
“Adoring fans?” Ava teased once he was within earshot.
“They’ve got me confused with somebody else,” he grumbled. Opening the back door of the SUV, he filled the cooler with ice and loaded the bottles of water.
“I think you should get used to all the attention, especially once you become the face of EverStrong Products and your endorsement deal turns you into a brand.”
He shot her a quizzical look.
“Oh come on. LeBron James, Tiger Woods, and Maria Sharapova all earn more with their endorsement deals than they make playing sports. And, most importantly, everyone knows who they are. You can’t hide behind your sunglasses forever.”
He walked to the passenger side, opened the door to the SUV, and got inside.
She followed and placed her wallet in her purse. “By the looks of it, those girls could do you a little good.”
“Those girls? What are they? Twelve?”
Ava sighed and her shoulders dropped. “Okay, not those girls, but a girl. You know, meet someone. Get a life.” She should know. She needed one herself—a life. Letting someone in was harder than it sounded. She knew that, too. So she didn’t begrudge him too much.
He squinted, looking into the morning sun. “Boxing is my life. Without it, I wouldn’t have much else. The gym is my family. The gym and boxing are the only things I care about.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said matter-of-factly, rolling her eyes.
“What do you mean?” He stretched out his right leg, getting comfortable.
“Regimen is your life. It would be hard for someone to take its place.”
She started Mike’s SUV and exited the gas station. Something about a full tank of gas comforted her—probably knowing that she could dive into some tougher questions and they’d have no reason to stop. Her hands gripped tighter on the steering wheel, and she made her way back onto the highway. Once she hit a cruising speed, they settled in and he talked. He actually started talking.
“To be honest, I’ve never thought about finding someone,” he said. “Having a family outside of Stamina has never crossed my mind.”
She frowned. “What about your real family? Aren’t they coming to New York for the fight?”
He gave a shake of his head. “No. They live in Florida. My mom, aunt, and uncle don’t travel.”
A pang of shock moved through her chest. “Even for something as big as this? You’re fighting in Madison Square Garden.”
“Even for something as big as this,” he repeated.
She kept her eyes on the road. Her heartbeats came in rapid succession. He wasn’t giving her much information, but it was further than they’d gotten yesterday. “Your mother, she must be very proud of you.”
The sound of him moving in his seat sent her gaze in his direction. His hand closed in a fist. He wet his lips. Clearly, this was a topic of conversation he didn’t enjoy. Her instincts kicked in. This was where the story was. His family.
“What’s her name?” she pressed. It hadn’t been in any of the articles she’d looked at as preliminary research, and now she knew why—family wasn’t something he talked about, obviously.
“Maria.” He grimaced as if talking about her pained him.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” she asked as innocently as she could muster.
“No.” He shut her down.
She settled into her seat, keeping her foot on the accelerator. “My mom, Holly, lives in Vegas. She was a showgirl at Bally’s. She loved the life. She danced as long as she could, even after my dad left. Back then, she had to dance, if we wanted to eat. She gave up a lot of her own free time just to pay the bills, and I was left alone a lot. I knew she did what she had to do to keep food on the table. She’s a total worrywart, but we’re best friends.”
“Your dad was a professional baseball player. You should’ve had lots of money.”
Ava shrugged. “He had lots of money, I guess. He paid my mom what he had to until I was eighteen. After that, when he didn’t owe her anything anymore, I got a job to help out. I worked after school at the newspaper, answering phones, general office stuff. That’s how I got hired as a reporter with the Times after college.”
She had no idea why she said what she did. Maybe it was to fill dead air. Maybe it was a feeling deep in her gut that he’d share if she did. Normally she didn’t go around telling virtual strangers her life story, but the more time they spent together, the less Mike felt like a stranger.
“He took everything, my dad,” Ava continued. “The day he walked out on Mom he cleaned out the bank account, the stocks, and left her the house and the bills.”
“He sounds like a prick,” Mike grunted. “Did he leave before your mom threw him out?”
She shook her head. “No. Mom loved him. She still loved him after he left us for another woman.”
“That’s devotion.”
She shook her head. “No. To love someone after they walk out on you, that’s stupidity.”
“How about you?” he asked. “Did you still love your father after he left you?”
Ava’s throat went dry. “I’m supposed to be asking the tough questions, remember?”
“Well, did you?” he pressed. She couldn’t tell him how she really felt. No one knew, not even her mother. The irrevocable damage her father had done to her heart all
those years ago had manifested itself into what she was today. Alone, and fearful of having someone share her life. She’d loved her father with all she had, and he left her. Any man she cared about could do the same. She survived risking her heart once. She wouldn’t do it again.
“No. He cast us aside for something better. I’d watch television to get a glimpse of him because I wanted to see what something better looked like.”
“Did you see it?”
“No.” Ava shook her head. “All I saw was a man who chose selfishness over his family.”
Mike rolled down his window, letting in the fresh air. “Did you ever forgive him for leaving you?”
Ava shook her head. “I don’t know how you can forgive something like that. How do you forgive someone who thinks they’re better than you? Who abandons you and treats you like their actions don’t affect other people?”
“Is that why you do what you do? You punish sports figures in the media to get back at him?”
A sharp pain pierced her chest. Now she knew what it felt like to admit something you didn’t want to out loud to a stranger, and have someone keep pushing for answers. She squirmed in her seat. He really had turned the tables on her.
“Maybe you should consider a job in journalism.”
His gaze hardened. “Are you making other people in the sports world pay for what your father did?” he asked. “Are you trying to right some kind of wrong or something? Make the rest of us pay for how he hurt you?”
She bit her lip. “I’m not comfortable talking about this. My relationship with my family isn’t something I like talking about.”
“Good.” He pursed his lips as he sank back into his seat. “Now you know how I feel.”
Chapter Eleven
Tense wasn’t the right word for how his body reacted when he had turned over the keys that morning to Ava. The small bits of metal weren’t simply keys to his car. They were more than what got him from point A to point B. They helped him make good time and keep his plan on track. Those keys were more than a tool that started the engine. They were the only thing he had left that could separate him from Ava. Now, that was gone, too. No, tense wasn’t how he felt placing the keys in her hand. The feeling was pissed.
The longer he sat, the more his muscles bunched under his skin. His jaw locked and he stared out the window like a kid being carted off to summer camp by his mom. This was his trip. Not only had she horned in on it, she’d taken it over by asking all those questions. One after the motherfucking next. Yeah, he fucked up. It was his fault someone lifted his wallet, but it was her fault they weren’t farther along.
Who taught her how to drive, anyway?
He glanced in her direction. Her auburn-colored hair shined in the sunlight. She was as beautiful as she was irritating. Bopping her head along to the beat of the music, Ava drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and sang along. The shit was driving him crazy. Her singing sounded like the brake pads on his SUV needed replacing. If he had to listen to that God-awful squealing much longer, he was going to wish he’d be replaced.
And all that baloney about her dad leaving when she was a kid. What was that about? Some kind of road-trip bonding?
Yeah, he turned the tables on her. He was no dummy. If she was going to spill her guts, he’d use her words against her. Make her see what it felt like when someone stuck their nose into her private matters, and keep pressing, and keep pressuring, until she found out in the end she should’ve kept her mouth shut.
She’d squirmed. He saw her movement with those questions he asked. Everybody had things they didn’t want to talk about. How’d she like being the one coerced into divulging more information than she’d intended?
After that they kept quiet. He stole glances at her when she wasn’t looking, trying to size her up. Her appearance told him things about her, but not everything. She kept her nails long and done in one of those French manicures. He looked at her hands and the length of her nails, wondering how they’d feel sliding down his back. Was she a scratcher? One of those women who liked to leave marks on a guy? Or was she softer in bed and used those fingers to tempt and tease?
Didn’t matter. He’d never know.
He shook off the thought and forced his mind back on Littleton and his upcoming fight.
As he stared out the window, they rolled into Texola, Oklahoma. The second they rolled in, he wanted to roll out, but his Pathfinder started to slow down. His truck moved past the welcome sign. Population thirty-six. Why the hell were they stopping?
A lone building sat off to the side of the road. Abandoned and falling down, the shack looked like it had once been a gas station. Now, it looked like ground zero for the zombie apocalypse. There was nothing here but tall grass and hot sun. So why the hell was she trying to bust up his schedule?
His truck veered to the right and came to a stop in the dirt.
“Sightseeing?” he asked with a sarcastic edge.
She killed the engine. “Wasn’t it about this time yesterday that you wanted to get out and go for a short run? We were going to stop, but it started raining, remember?”
He lifted his hand and rubbed his face. He remembered. “Yeah. We’ve been sitting about five hours. That’s bad for circulation.” He opened the door, and the warm Oklahoma air crept inside. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
However, he was more surprised he didn’t. All the questions mixed with a woman that smelled as good as she did sitting beside him all day blurred his focus.
“Do you mind if I join?” she asked, jerking her door open. She placed one foot outside the vehicle, waiting for his answer.
After she recalled that he’d wanted to stop yesterday but couldn’t, how could he say no? This time when he got out of the car he looked at her. He did more than steal a glance at his traveling companion. He studied her and wondered if he’d been too hard on her. Like it or not, she had been right about the motel. Remembering he liked to stop and walk around equally impressed him. She paid attention to him and his needs. His stomach quaked. He wasn’t used to anyone besides the Stamina crew giving a shit.
Emerging from the vehicle, he stretched out as she started to walk down the side of the road. He took in the gentle sway of her hips and her tight ass when she stopped to stretch a few feet ahead of him. All in all she wasn’t that bad.
“Sorry about before,” he said, catching up to her.
“You already apologized about the motel. Don’t worry about it.” She surveyed the landscape.
“Not about that. About your dad.” She lifted her hand over her eyes to block the sun and pointed into the distance. Together, they watched a hawk fly above them in lazy circles.
“I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry,” she said after the hawk had flown away. “It wasn’t my intention. I just thought if I opened up and shared, you might do the same.”
“Um.” He grunted. Nope. No dice. He wasn’t sharing. His private life wasn’t a habit he needed to kick. But he appreciated her honesty.
“Do you mind if I run ahead? My calves are tight.”
She gestured forward. “Be my guest. I think I’ll wait here.”
He stretched and nodded. In a beat, he leapt into a run and moved away from Ava, and with each footfall he started to despise her a little less.
***
Mike returned to his SUV, his mood lighter. The run helped. Getting away from Ava’s watchful eye allowed him time to think. Maybe he’d been too tough on her from the get-go. If she hadn’t tagged along, he would’ve had no one to drive, and he’d have been stuck in New Mexico without a wallet or a driver’s license, awaiting rescue. She’d bailed him out by offering to drive and footing the bill until he could pay her back. Pretty cool in his book, even for a pit viper like Ava.
Not only that, she pulled over as scheduled, adhering to his training and running plan. Having someone like her around wasn’t all bad. Maybe her singing wasn’t as awful as he thought. Approaching the rear of the vehicle Ava had raised the back
door. He found her bent over the bumper, digging into the cooler he’d packed.
“Here you go.” She drew out a bottle of water. “I thought you might need this.”
“Thanks.” He twisted the top of the water bottle and drank. She took a bottle from the cooler and took a sip.
After another gulp, he poured some water over his head. The coolness ran down his neck, soaking his shirt. Ava laughed.
“What?” He looked down at his shirt. “I was hot.” He shook his head like a dog, sending pellets of water everywhere.
“Guys are gross.” She giggled.
He gripped the bottle tighter. “You’ve never poured water over yourself.” Was she that prissy?
“Not water I intended to drink.”
He glanced down at the remaining liquid in the bottle. “It won’t hurt you. See?” With a flick of his wrist he jerked the bottle, shooting water toward Ava.
Quick on her feet, she stepped back. He missed. Before he could apologize for the teasing, she turned her bottle on him. With a quick motion, water streamed out of the bottle at Mike, drenching the front of his shirt.
“Hey.” His mouth hung open, dumbfounded.
She laughed again. “What? It’s only water.”
Material clung to him. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and peeled the wet cotton over his head. “It’s a good thing I’ve got another shirt, or you’d be in big trouble.”
He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eyes. She fixed her gaze on his chest. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and then she averted her eyes to the ground. Funny. With as many athletes as she’d interviewed over the years, he didn’t expect a shirtless man to leave her speechless.
Unzipping his bag, he drew out another shirt. Then, for a little more fun, he turned to her. “I never expected you to be at a loss for words.”
“I guess it’s the heat,” she replied, her voice silky. He didn’t miss the innuendo.
Pulling the dry shirt over his head, he tugged the hem down toward the waistband of his jeans. “I guess it is.”
Going The Distance (Ringside #2) Page 7
