Blush: A Strangers-to-Lovers Romance

by Rachel De Lune

  I pulled Belle away and changed course, heading for the steps to the side that seemed to take us down a level. The place didn’t have the usual feel of a club. For one, I couldn’t see the dance floor or the DJ booth, but everyone was crowding around the edges of the railings.

  Belle and I muscled through to a space and peered over and saw a cage on the ground floor.

  “What’s happening tonight?” I asked a girl leaning over next to me.

  “Fight night. You look a little lost there, princess?” She looked at Belle, who had turned a funny shade of worry.

  “Hey, I thought I’d lost you guys. This is Gwen, Leo’s sister.” Matthew joined us and made the intro.

  “Do you know where Leo is?” I asked her directly. My nerves about this conversation were about to break.

  “Yeah, he’s getting ready. Don’t worry, though. It’s his last fight, and we’ll catch him after.” She clapped her hands together as if relishing this.

  Did she say fight? My stomach lurched as my mind ran the sums. It made sense. Everything I knew about Leo—it added up. Gwen caught my eyes and saw the confusion and disapproval.

  “Who are you? And why are you looking at me like I’m a piece of crap?”

  “Just a friend of Leo’s.” I wasn’t about to back down. If someone I loved were about to be in a fight, there’d be no way in hell I’d be rubbing my hands together with glee like it was some special event.

  “Okay, well, take a little piece of advice from me, wipe the disapproval from your face before you see him. Only people who have his back are welcome here, and I’m not sure what camp you’re in.”

  “He’s a fighter?” I asked, although I already knew.

  “Yeah. At least for tonight.”

  “And you’re all right watching someone you love in that ring down there?” I nodded to the side. I couldn’t get my head around this.

  “This will be the only fight I watch Leo in. But by the looks on your faces, this wasn’t what you’d expected tonight. Matty, does Leo know they’re here?” Gwen turned to Matthew.

  “Um, no. It was meant to be a surprise.” He looked sheepish, and I realised that this plan of mine was about to blow up in my face.

  As the noise intensified, all the puzzle pieces of Leo clicked into place: his athleticism, his ability with his fists, his secrets, even his job, and they all built a different sort of picture to the one that I’d been holding on to: my saviour, the good one, the ‘do the right thing’ guy.

  My mind split the two versions of Leo in half, and I was left in the middle, wishing for someone to repair the damage and knit the two halves back together again.

  As I fell into my new rabbit hole, cheers erupted around me. Matthew had moved to the edge of the railing with Gwen, and Belle was watching me like I might bolt at any minute.

  “If you want to see him, now’s your chance,” Gwen shouted at me.

  Matthew let me slide in front of him, and I peered down into the pit below.

  Standing in the ring, shirtless, with everyone able to see his freckled skin was Leo. He was really down there, about to fight another guy. For fun. Not for self-defence, not to protect someone, but for sport.

  Anger, hot and fiery blazed through me. I’d been cheated. The Leo I knew wasn’t this man. And the thought of raising a child with him evaporated before me.

  I backed away from the railing and headed for the exit.

  Half of the scenarios I’d run in my head included Leo wanting nothing to do with me or the baby. They were the hardest to stomach, but I’d gone through the possibility. This would be no different. I would do it on my own. Hundreds of women make that decision every day. I could do it just as easily. But my breathing wasn’t keeping up, and I had to snatch at the air to stop myself from hyperventilating.

  Belle caught my hand and followed me out to the exit. I didn’t slow down. I had to escape and get the hell out of there.

  Violence like this wasn’t something I could condone. Even if it defeated that little spark in my chest that had begun to glow, I couldn’t raise a child with a violent man.

  Decision made.

  It was done.

  But it broke a piece of my heart to do it—shut down the hope that had lived in my heart since Leo had left. No more. I had to move on.

  It wasn’t just me to think of anymore.

  20

  Leo

  One Year Later

  It had been a tough six months, in fact, I couldn’t remember the last day off I’d had.

  My final win at The Club had been a success, and, true to his word, Zuri had stayed off my back. It got me the money I needed to make my break and set me up. The first few months of my plan were the easy bit: training, learning, and studying to become a certified MMA coach, plus picking up where I left off in Jiu-Jitsu. The discipline of Jiu-Jitsu was needed, and so were the skills, as I’d never be able to be a successful coach until I upped my belt grade from when I was a kid. Although I wasn’t going to be teaching Jiu-Jitsu, MMA took a lot of the skills I was re-learning, and it would do me no harm.

  Without a current contract or reputation with any of the formal MMA circuits, or any kind of experience in other disciplines, it would be hard competing against more established martial arts centres, but this was what I wanted to do, and no way would I fail before even starting.

  I was playing to my strengths, so to speak—I’d always said I didn’t need the fights, and that was a great notion to have, but I also needed an alternative.

  Astrid had given me a fair amount of inspiration for my venture. She was only a year or so older than me, yet she had her own business and had made it a success. Why couldn’t I do that?

  So, I worked for it. I put in the time. I saved, and I scouted locations, other classes in the area and made connections with other coaches.

  When Mads and I had found Zuri, all he did was give us some workout programmes, drill us, and hone our natural talent. He used his experience; that’s all, and there were plenty of kids looking for that, although I wouldn’t be offering them up to Zuri’s ring. What they did outside of my gym was their own business, but I was sure as hell going to make them the best fighter they could be.

  Gwen helped out with the admin and paperwork stuff—turned out her job at the building merchants was all about logistics and orders and other stuff. She was a whizz on the computer and my lifeline.

  It had all fallen into place, and the more I did, the more I enjoyed it. I finally felt something click like I had a purpose—something to focus on. And as that grew, the darkness seemed to fall away. It didn’t feel like I was fighting a ghost or the regrets of my past because I was doing something positive. And with that, came clear nights with fewer nightmares.

  No more second-guessing or questioning my decisions because I knew, down to my marrow, that this was the best decision I’d ever made.

  Mad Gyms had been born.

  At my last fight, I’d put some feelers out and taken on a few one-on-one training sessions with some of the guys to start me off slowly as I built up my credentials. Matthew was one of my first guinea pigs. He’d given me the idea really. I just wasn’t in a place to hear it back then. After he’d come to see my fight, I’d explained my background and my idea to him. We’d stayed in touch.

  But no matter how many times I asked, he didn’t mention Astrid. He claimed he didn’t know and that Belle didn’t talk about her, but I knew that was crap—Belle was her best friend.

  Gwen had told me that two girls had showed up with Matthew the night of the fight, and I texted Astrid the moment she told me that one of the girls had given her grief, but Astrid ignored my messages. It didn’t mean I’d forgotten about her though. How could I ever do that?

  Her magazines landed in my inbox, and I read them cover to cover each month, wanting to get a glimpse into her world for that moment in time. It didn’t matter that she didn’t write all the pieces or take the photos—it was her vision. And that gave me such a big push to keep
on track with mine.

  And now, here I was, working all the hours I could to secure clients, classes, and other trainers to help keep Mad Gyms alive. Last month, I opened up my second junior class—under thirteens this time, to run alongside the 13-17 session I’d started with. The pre-requisite was they already had experience in Jiu-Jitsu or kickboxing. My junior class was more about fitness and strength work to support their formal lessons. Prepping them if they wanted to build and chose MMA as an adult if their skills were strong enough. The adults could be beginners. Mads and I were both strikers, rather than big on wrestling, but I needed to be able to adapt and coach both until I could bring in more people to specialise.

  A friend did cardio and HIIT training and rented my space for his clients, some of which overlapped. It wasn’t huge, but it was the start, and we’d already begun to grow. I’d sunk everything into this—time, money, and all of my sweat and hard work. There was no running away or getting bailed out this time. I had to make this work because there was no other option.

  “Right, guys. Great first session, I hope you had fun. Remember to practice those first few stances and warm-ups. We’ll build on them for next week.” I dismissed the dozen live wires back to their waiting parents just outside the training room.

  The space was simple, but well equipped—a matted main training room just off an entrance-come-reception room. Washroom facilities were all we could afford right now, but if things progressed as I’d hoped, we could expand into the neighbouring unit.

  “Coach, when will we learn to punch?” A little guy waited for me as the other kids filed out of the room.

  “Ah, Neil?” I asked, I wasn’t great with names, and suddenly I had a bunch to try and remember.

  He nodded.

  “Right, well, there’s a lot more to this class than learning to throw a punch. You know that, right? And we won’t necessarily be covering that. What’s your discipline?” He looked around at the mats rather than keeping eye contact with me.

  I took a look around, and a young woman lingered at the doors, visible through the glass. We couldn’t afford a receptionist, so it was useful to be able to see through to the waiting area. She must have been Neil’s mum, so I waved her in.

  “Why don’t we go and talk to your mum, okay?”

  He ran off in the direction of the door without answering. Although we said we’d recommend this class alongside formal classes, we didn’t check-up, and I was wondering if that was a mistake.

  “Hi, I’m Leo.” I offered my hand, and the woman shook it.

  “Hi, everything okay?” She looked a little startled, and Neil snaked around her legs, putting her between us.

  “Oh, sure. I just wanted to ask about Neil’s other class, was it Jiu-Jitsu he was doing?”

  Her cheeks pinked at the question, and her eyes dove to the ground. “Um, well, you see, we hadn’t got to that part yet. He was just so desperate to join in with his friend.”

  “I see. No problem. I can recommend the Dojo in town for either class and then Neil will be getting both disciplines he needs.” I smiled and hoped the suggestion came across politely. I wasn’t going to be teaching kids how to throw a punch straight off the bat. That would come much later, when they had some of their own skills and control down.

  I thought back to Zuri again, taking us on and just showing us some basic stuff before setting us to the ring. It could have gone so horribly wrong, but at the time, we both thought we were untouchable. The memories were less painful now. And what seemed like such simple things when we went through them, now formed such important cornerstones to my life.

  “I appreciate that, Leo, thank you.” She raised her eyes, and I could see the flutter of her lashes. She was trying to be coy, but I was immune. Since Astrid, nobody had come close to catching my attention.

  I nodded. “See you next week, Neil.” I crouched down to make sure I directed it to him and not the mum. I wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship right now unless it was to do with work.

  After they’d left, I cleared down the equipment we’d used, turned the lights off and headed to the desk out front. It turned out there was a tonne of marketing and other crap I had to do in order to even consider having a successful business. Gwen, again, saving my skin, had sorted a basic website and used Joey and me to mock up some promo shots. Funny, I didn’t mind stepping out in the ring for people to watch, but photographs on the website made my skin crawl.

  I caught up with everything on the to-do list I had from her and waited for Symon to show for his class. He’d lock up later on as I didn’t have any other training booked until tomorrow morning.

  The evening off was long overdue, and as much as I would have loved to sleep for twelve hours straight, I owed Gwen a beer. If I didn’t keep her sweet, she’d threaten to either stop working for me or start demanding an actual wage—neither of which I could afford right now.

  Hell, I couldn’t afford any complications right now.

  21

  Astrid

  I watched the clock on the side of my screen instead of the layout of imagery and text. This was what my life had turned into now. A few hours of peace, snatched here and there, to manage my suppliers, audience, advertisers and keep everything running, so I still had an income, and to pull the publication that used to be my world, together.

  That was before Finn.

  Now he was my world, and everything else came second to him. It was an alien concept that plenty of people had told me would happen, but I’d ignored every single one of them, unable to comprehend what they meant. But then his little blue eyes opened to me, and my world shifted, like a jolt to my reality.

  But no matter how much or how hard I loved Finn, I felt like I was drowning.

  Becoming a mother hadn’t changed my dreams—I still wanted to run the magazine and be my own boss. So my expectations didn’t change, either. I’d managed it while I was pregnant—enduring that horrendous time that people referred to in favourable terms such as ‘blooming’ or ‘magical’. I was blessed with neither experience. Tolerable was my description, and that was only because of how wonderful Finn was, and I could look back with rose-coloured glasses.

  But now, my time wasn’t mine any longer. Finn demanded so much of it that I found it hard just keeping myself straight with the basics—get up, dressed, eat, repeat. Fitting in space for any sort of creativity was near impossible, let alone building the vision-concepts, themes, or ideas that would inspire others.

  Those seven stages of grief came to my mind regularly since Finn’s birth. They might be more muddled this time, but I still thought I was working through them in my own way.

  And Leo was never far from my thoughts. Especially since a few weeks ago when Finn started to lose his baby blue irises, and his eyes had lightened to a near-exact shade of Leo’s, complete with the dark rim that was a match for his father’s. It was a stark reminder and huge pull on my heartstrings that was so hard to ignore.

  The door opening pulled my attention, and I cursed how much I still had to do. Belle was wonderful and took Finn a few times a week, so I’d had a rest, or rather, space and quiet to concentrate. Babies slept a lot, but half the time I still had a mountain of jobs to do, like the washing, or the dishes, sterilising the bottles, or simply sleeping myself.

  “Shhh, he’s just gone down. He’s fed and changed and will be out for another hour or so. Shall I make tea?”

  “Why not.” I’d given up on finishing the page plan. I wasn’t concentrating anyway.

  Belle was already in the kitchen, and I went to take a peek at Finn in the pram. His little cheeks had the faintest blush on them. He was perfect.

  I collapsed onto the sofa and resisted the temptation to close my eyes, just for a moment.

  “When are you going to give in, and call him?”

  Without opening my eyes, I answered. “Who?” Although I knew who she meant. We’d had this conversation every week for the last three months. I was surprised she hadn�
��t started sooner, actually.

  “Don’t who, me. You know who I’m talking about, and you know it’s not fair keeping Finn from him.”

  “Tell me again how it’s not fair? Because the last thing I knew, Leo wasn’t a safe or good influence on my son.”

  “He’s not a violent guy. He used to fight, big deal. Are professional boxers never meant to have children because they fight?”

  I still hadn’t opened my eyes, but I could picture her standing over me waiting for her sassy remark to pull a reaction, with her hands resting on her curvy hips for good measure.

  “My baby, my life, my decision.”

  “His baby, his right. He doesn’t even know. Come on. You don’t have to do this all on your own.” She sat down on the sofa and picked up one of my hands. “You can ask for help. It doesn’t make you weak or any less of a good mum. You know that, right?” Her voice was soft, but her words packed a punch without the need for added delivery.

  My logical brain knew what Belle said was true. If the situation were reversed, I’d be telling her every one of those things. But it didn’t make it any less easy to hear. My heart physically hurt when I looked at Finn and imagined what Leo would say. Would he hate me for keeping him in the dark—for keeping these first few months from him?

  Would he even care? Sometimes, it was easier to pretend he’d react that way. It stopped my mind playing with words such as hope and future.

  “Will you ever leave this alone?” I finally gave in and turned to face Belle’s beaming face.”

  “I’m not going to give up. Not until you’ve at least tried. He has a right, you know. Don’t make his decisions for him, regardless of what you already might think about him.”

  She crept back to check on Finn before leaving.