by Cindi Madsen
Finn handed him the gloves, and I was glad. At least Dad would focus on my training, and that alone.
By the time he and I finished an hour-long training session, the gym had mostly cleared out. Instead of retreating to his office, Dad sat on one of the chairs along the wall and patted the seat next to him. “Confession time. I heard your brother and sister talking to you about Chelsea. What happened?”
“She got a job offer—a big promotion back in Colorado. You know how it is. Being a fighter is a time-consuming, selfish job, and when it comes down to it, I can’t give her what she wants—what she needs. You said yourself that you hung on to Mom when you should’ve let go. How you tried to have the best of both worlds, and it didn’t work.”
“I made a lot of mistakes. Not giving more of myself to my family definitely tops the list, and to be honest, it was more like trying to have the best of three or four worlds at once. But you’re not like me, Liam.”
For a long time I’d tried to convince myself I could be different, but there’d been a lot of evenings lately when I’d sat in the chair Dad used to occupy, mumbling about facts and figures and the exact same things he always did. I thought about the night I’d missed Chelsea’s celebration for the gym, and how I always managed to say the wrong things. “I am.”
“In some ways. Fighting style. Ridiculously good looks”—he gave a self-deprecating laugh, and then his expression sobered—“stubbornness. Perhaps not the greatest with expressing the way we feel. But you’ve never gotten caught up in the fame. You kill yourself taking care of everyone and everything, sometimes to the detriment of yourself.”
“No, that’s what Chelsea does.” Saying her name aloud stung, but it also brought a smile to my face. “She’s got the biggest heart, and she thinks about other people before she thinks about herself.”
“Then you two have that in common.”
Hardly, I automatically thought, but maybe in some ways we both occasionally forgot ourselves in the flurry of what everyone else needed. That was why it was so nice when I was with her. She replenished me with her words, smiles, and that amazing laugh of hers, and it made me want to ensure she was taken care of the same way she took care of everyone else. Only she was always trying to take care of me. By bringing me food when I worked late and trying to wait up for me, no matter how exhausted she was. Sending me those weird-ass pictures to cheer me up. By asking me about things at the gym and forcing me to take a break when I hit my limit.
Like a scab that’d been ripped off, the wound bled again, and once it started, it was nearly impossible to stop.
“Now you’re throwing it away,” Dad said.
It took me a couple seconds to shove aside my emotions enough to talk evenly. “You always say girls come and go but belts are forever.” I didn’t believe it, but I’d been doing my damnedest to convince myself of it. “The gym needs me to win, too, Dad. All those times you worried she was a distraction, and occasionally, she was. Especially once we crossed into more. My focus shifted, and then when I tried to shift back, I was neglecting her. She deserves more than sitting on the sidelines. This is a rough world to be part of. I don’t want it to beat her up, the way it did Mom.”
“Ah.” Dad sighed. “Your mom had no idea what she was in for. We were young and naive, and as much as I loved her, I didn’t have a clue how much effort it took to make a relationship work. She needed a lot of reassurance and attention and affection or she completely fell apart, and I hadn’t a clue on how to handle it, so I just…didn’t. Not only does Chelsea realize what being part of this world entails, she’s strong. That girl can hold her own.”
“I know. Of course I know.”
“And girls like her don’t come and go. They come along maybe once in a lifetime.”
“I know that, too.”
Dad furrowed his brow, and in all my years of making plenty of mistakes, he’d never looked at me like I was so clueless and beyond help before. “Then why the hell did you let her go?”
I rubbed my fingers to my forehead, pressing against the oncoming headache. “I didn’t want her to give up her dream.”
“Fine. So figure out how to fight for her and her dream.”
I slowly lifted my eyes to his. “What if that means I have to move halfway across the country?”
“Then you move.”
If I hadn’t been sitting down, that would’ve knocked me on my ass. “But the gym? Everything you’ve built? I’m working to carry on your legacy, and we’re just starting to make progress. I know you can’t afford for me to leave right now.”
“Like I said before, I want to leave you something, not burden you with it.”
For a second or two, I let that soak in, but honestly it still felt like the ground was spinning out from under me. “I was trying to do the right thing. It just feels so fucking wrong every day that I’m not with her.”
“The right thing isn’t always cut and dry, son, and it’s not the same for everyone. I’m not close to kicking the bucket just yet.” He nudged me. “Finn and I can run things here while you take care of your girl, and if we need help, we’ve got a gym full of fighters to choose from. Don’t get me wrong, we’ll miss the hell out of you if you leave, and filling your spot won’t be easy, but this past year I’ve learned a lot about what’s important. If I had to do it over again, I’d prioritize differently. Belts are shiny, and there’s nothing like that moment when you’re declared the winner in the cage, but love…” A bittersweet smile spread across his face. “That’s something different altogether, and it lasts a whole lot longer than a few minutes.”
I nodded, hope calling to me for the first time since Chelsea walked out of my apartment all those nights ago. “She was really angry and hurt when she left. I’m not sure she’ll take me back.”
“Well, I’ve never known you to declare defeat before you’ve given it your all.” He clapped my back like I was about to head into the cage, and I let the same determination that fueled me in a fight rush through me.
“You’re right,” I said, pushing to my feet. “And I’m not about to start now.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chelsea
By the time I made it to my bedroom, I was completely exhausted, not to mention emotionally wrung out from saying goodbye to everyone at the San Diego branch, and I just wanted some cuddle time with the only guy who’d never let me down.
“George?”
He wasn’t on the bed in his usual spot, where he napped ten out of twelve hours a day. I crouched down and searched underneath the bed but didn’t see him there, either.
“I know you hate being trapped in this room all day, but you won’t have to deal with that soon, and if you come out, I’ll give you lots of attention and an extra treat.” The trapped sensation wasn’t foreign to me. Using my newly acquired assertive skills, I’d set up boundaries with my mom for my own emotional well-being, but I was also staying at her house, which meant I’d cleaned and done laundry. I couldn’t wait to get back to having space of my own. Preferably space that didn’t have boxes of craft supplies and jewelry that Mom wasn’t sure if she really wanted to sell anymore because it wasn’t as lucrative as she’d thought it’d be.
Not a surprise, but I’d set up some boundaries for myself, too. I couldn’t stop her from falling for pyramid schemes, but I didn’t have to make her feel bad about them, either. So she was on the search for her next get-rich fix—that I told her she’d have to fund herself and made it clear I actually meant it, which I did—and I was focusing on my next step in maintaining-a-steady-income and finding that oft-sought-after inner happiness.
I went to set my keys on my nightstand, and the note taped to my reading lamp caught my eye.
Chelsea,
I collected George for a family meeting next door.
Your attendance is required.
Liam
My heart swelled and clenched and basically didn’t know what to do with itself. What the hell did he mean by family me
eting? Like, did his family need to talk to me about something and they figured the only way I’d come was if he took George?
The amount of longing that rushed through me at the thought of seeing Liam so wasn’t fair. I was kind of, sort of doing better, and having to face him would mess with my progress and make me question everything all over again.
Okay, that was a lie. I wasn’t doing better. I still missed Liam in a way that consumed me, which was why I didn’t think I could stroll on over and listen to whatever he said without crying. Without having a complete breakdown and begging him to want me.
Screw that. I’m not begging him for anything. Since the anger felt much better than the weak sensation fighting for control, I gripped tight to it and let it fuel me. I yanked the note off the lamp and read it again. You can do this. Maybe it’ll be good closure.
Sure. Let’s stick with delusional, since he already accused me of being that anyway.
The walk next door was painfully familiar, a journey I’d made countless times. Of all the things that sucked, the one that sucked the most was how much I needed to talk to my best friend.
Only since he was also the guy who’d hurt me, I couldn’t, and apparently he’d made off with the other guy who listened to me. Fortunately, cats couldn’t talk, or else Liam would unearth all my secrets.
How much I missed him and how much of a mess I was without him, and that I’d watched some truly horrible reality shows while mainlining sugar this past week because it made me feel better to watch other people who also didn’t have their lives together. What could I say? Inner happiness was a tricky, slippery bitch.
I knocked on the front door to the house and walked inside. “Liam?”
“Up here,” he said.
The rest of his family was nowhere to be seen. I’d had a few awkward run-ins with Blake when we were both leaving or arriving home at the same time. He was always nice, but it hurt, and two days suddenly seemed like too many between me and my move to another place.
The third to last stair still squeaked, and naturally he’d chosen his bedroom for our meeting, since evidently reliving every memory ever with him this past week wasn’t enough torture.
Be strong, be strong… I stepped inside Liam’s old bedroom. He looked so big and tall and sexy, and so I wouldn’t think about that, I crossed my arms and affected my best intimidating front. “You catnapped George.”
“I called a family meeting, and he came willingly. Sure, it took a can of tuna and some catnip, but he’s quite happy.” Liam reached down and scratched the top of George’s head, and my kitty stretched and relaxed deeper in the comforter. “He said he has another meeting later, though, so we might need to get straight to business.” He gestured to the computer chair I used to sit in when we worked on our homework together. “Would you like to take a seat?”
“I think I’d better remain standing.” Even if I feel like I’m about to fall over. “What’s this meeting about?”
“It’s about you and me.” The intensity in the eyes that met mine sent a jolt through me, one that had no business happening anymore. Why didn’t my body get the message? He and I were done. I suspected this was his way to try to keep our friendship, since at least that meant something to him, and while I missed our friendship, how could I ever be around him without wanting more?
Without also remembering that he didn’t.
He took a step toward me, and when I backpedaled a step, he lifted his hands, a flicker of hurt on his face. Not sure why he got to be hurt. He was the one who’d torn out my heart and stomped on it. He cleared his throat. “Chelsea, I fucked up. I spent all that time telling you to be assertive and say what you wanted—”
“I did! I told you I wanted you. That I wanted to try to make this work.” Dammit, the tears were rushing forward, crawling up my throat and making my eyes burn with the effort to hold them back.
“You’re right, and—”
“You bet your ass I’m right, and it’s so unfair that you think that you can just steal my cat and—”
“Borrow.”
I glared at him, smoke practically pouring from my nostrils, which at least helped stifle the urge to cry, and one corner of his mouth kicked up.
“Wow, your intimidation tactics are getting a lot better.”
“This isn’t funny, Liam. You hurt me.” The fissure that’d formed nearly a week ago widened, all the hurt rushing forward once again and washing away what little progress I’d made, just like I’d worried would happen. “You told me it was messed up that I didn’t think anyone wanted me thanks to my screwed-up relationship with my family, but then you didn’t want me, either. Not long-term.”
“That’s not true. I—”
“You wouldn’t even try! I poured out my heart, and you told me to leave town. For the second time. Do you know how shitty that is? That you just assume that I’m some fragile flower who’s going to wilt on the sidelines?”
“You’re right. You’re way stronger than that, and I—”
“I am. And I get to say what my dreams are, and if and when I go for them, not you.”
In two long strides he closed the distance between us and curled his hands around my shoulders. “Babe, I love you, but it’s taken me a while to summon up the courage and the words to tell you exactly how I feel. So if you’d stop interrupting and just let me get through this, I’ll happily let you talk for hours. Days. Weeks.”
“Months?” It sort of popped out in a moment of being too caught up in how incredible he smelled and how warm and secure his hands felt. There was also the I love you that I was trying not to read too much into, since he’d said those words before, and in the end, it hadn’t been quite enough.
“Don’t go getting greedy,” he said, and then he smiled, but it was a nervous smile, one I’d never seen before.
Just like that, a stupid sliver of hope rose up, and I was afraid it was going to lodge in my heart and fester and, wow, that was a super-gross image now that I thought about it.
“Chelsea.”
My eyes lifted to his.
“What I was trying to say is that I told you to go after what you wanted, but I didn’t practice what I was preaching. Because more than anything—even more than a title or a belt—I want you. I want us. I want George hacking up hairballs on the floors of wherever we live. And you need to know that you don’t have to do a damn thing to earn my love. You’ve already got all of it. You’re smart and strong, funny and unbelievably kind, and there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re it for me. I miss my best friend like crazy, but we were meant to be more than friends, more than even boyfriend and girlfriend, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove that to you.
“And when you leave to go back to Colorado in a couple days, I’m going with you. I can’t lose you, Chels. I’ll miss my family like crazy, but I can deal with that as long as I have you. I already called a gym in Denver, and I can rent an apartment if you’re not ready to live with me again. But I’m not letting you get away—in fact, I’m never letting go of you again.”
Disbelief swirled with joy and sent everything inside me spinning. He was willing to move for me? He wanted us as badly as I wanted us? I had so much to say that the words were nearly bursting out of me, and I had to clamp my lips to keep them inside.
“Shit, you’re not talking,” Liam said, worry bleeding into his features. “That’s not good.”
“You told me not to interrupt.”
“Well, now I need you to say something, and I’m really hoping it’s that you’ll give me another chance. But before you make your final decision, you should know that George agrees with my plan and thinks that you should give me another chance. Don’t you, George?” Liam leaned over, grabbed a string, and lifted it in front of my cat. “Dammit, this worked earlier. Come on, cat. Remember, we talked about how you’d nod with the string, and I’d give you a treat afterward?”
“You already gave him catnip. Now he’s too stoned to care.”
Liam slowly spun back to face me, a sheepish grin on his face. “I guess you’ll have to take my word for it. If that means anything to you anymore?” His eyes implored mine.
“You can’t go to Denver,” I said. “You have a fight in six weeks.”
“They have these things called planes. They get you from Point A to Point B really quickly.”
“But your family, and the gym, and—”
“They all understand that I’m better with you. I think they knew I was in love with you when I was still in denial about it, and that was before you came to visit and showed me everything I’d been missing.” He placed his hand on the side of my neck and ran his thumb along my jaw. “You showed me how amazing life could be, and now my life feels so damn empty. I miss you and I love you and I’m in love with you. I know I screwed up, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
He lowered his forehead to mine. “The fact of the matter is, I was the delusional one, thinking I could live without you. Please tell me I’m not too late.”
I closed my eyes, taking a moment to soak in the warmth coursing through me and his scent and his touch and all the perfect things he’d said. Then I opened my eyes and wrapped my hand around his wrist. “You’re too late. If you want to move to Denver, anyway.”
Using his thumb, he tipped up my chin. “You choose now to go with succinct, confusing sentences? Really?”
A laugh accidentally slipped out. “Hey, I’ve been heartbroken for a week.”
He exhaled, so much weight and heaviness behind it. “Me too. And having you this close without kissing you is torture. So I need you to explain. None of those big, I-need-a-dictionary words, either. Spell it out, like you would for a dumb jock.”
“I called you a pretty jock, not a dumb one.”
“I’m starting to feel like an impatient one.”
I placed my hands on his chest. “Well, I was going to take the job in Denver, but then I got this different job offer here. Carlos called me—”
Liam frowned, and I raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t get all scowly. He offered me a job helping him promote the local fights, and even though it was way dreamier than what I thought was my dream job, at first I wasn’t going to take it because it meant I’d be here, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to be in the same city as you. I was worried it’d hurt too much.”
