by Nikki Ash
Twenty
Mason
Alec and I have just finished some sparring and cardio when I spot Jake coming out of the locker room. “Hey Jake!” I call him over. Once he spots me, he jogs my way.
“Hey Man!” We fist bump and then he fist bumps Alec. “What’s up, kid?”
“We just finished working out, and we’re about to pick up dinner so Mila doesn’t have to cook when she gets home.”
“Oh, shi—” He looks at Alec and changes shit to shoot at the last second.
I chuckle and shake my head when Alec says, “I’ve heard worse.”
Jake laughs. “I saw the post on Twitter about you being married but I thought it was a rumor.”
My body stills. When we went to Vegas for Tristan’s wedding, we managed to keep the partying under wraps for the most part. There were a few paparazzi around but they didn’t bug us for the most part. We stuck to all the clubs we knew would give us VIP treatment, and when Mila and I left, I took her out a side door. I didn’t remember anyone following us when we went into the chapel, but just because I didn’t see them, doesn’t mean they didn’t see me.
I pull my phone out and click on Twitter, and sure enough there are thousands of comments on a tweet I’m tagged in.
@MeghanLovesLA: Congratulations to my friend @MomtoAlec and @MasonStreetUFC on your marriage! Ladies, time to find a new #UFCfighter to hunk on.
Jesus! I knew it would come out eventually but not like that. As I’m scrolling down the comments, my phone rings in my hand. Shit! It’s Kenny, my publicist.
“Hey man,” I answer.
“Don’t you ‘hey man’ me. Up until this moment I felt like I was ripping you off with how much you pay me. You never do anything wrong. You stay out of the spotlight, go to charity functions without arguing, you keep your sleeping around discreet for the most part. Did you decide I finally needed to earn my money?”
Kenny aka Kenneth Norton III has been my publicist ever since I moved to LA. My former publicist couldn’t make the move from Las Vegas, so my PR company found me Kenny. Up until today, he’s right, I’ve been paying him to schedule my events, run my social media when necessary, and handle anything else related to the UFC. Over the last several years, Kenny has played the publicist-slash-assistant roll. I’m low maintenance and don’t require a lot. My life for the past ten years has consisted of fighting and the occasional fucking. It didn’t even cross my mind I would need to let anybody know I got married. I contacted the attorney when Mila said she didn’t want to stay married, but other than that, I don’t have anyone to tell. Tristan is my closest friend, and I figured I would tell him when he returns from his honeymoon.
“Well, you know me, Kenny. Go big or go home.” I chuckle, and Kenny sighs.
“So it’s true? You really did get married.”
“That I did.”
“We’ve received several requests for interviews and photo shoots. Everybody is shocked and has no clue who this woman is. Her social media platforms are all set to private and all they know is she’s a mom based on her username. My advice would be to do an exclusive first interview and shoot with OK! or People magazine. Daniel West has already emailed asking, since you have a cover shoot coming out next month before your title fight, that you meet with the interviewer to add to the spread of the UFC magazine.”
My head is spinning with all of this. Daniel West is the CEO of the UFC and he’s all about using his fighters to gain attention to the UFC. I didn’t think about any of this before I married Mila. She had no clue what she was getting herself into, and I didn’t even prepare her for any of it. When I’m in her townhome and we’re hanging out, it’s just the two of us and I forget about the outside world. The paparazzi rarely follow me because there’s nothing to see.
Two years ago when I was named Los Angeles’ Most Eligible Bachelor, I had gotten some attention. Women followed me for a while and the paparazzi would take pictures when I would leave the clubs and restaurants. But once they realized training and hanging out with Tristan and his daughter were the highlight of my life, they gave up. My guess is now that I have married a woman they didn’t even know I was dating, they’ll be all over me until they get answers.
“Okay, let me go home and talk to Mila. I need to see what she wants to do.”
“Call me tonight, Mason. We need to make some type of announcement on social media, tonight.”
We hang up, and I notice I have several texts from Mila.
Mila: I just got home and there are cameras everywhere. I’m afraid to get out.
Mila: I just left. I don’t know where to go.
Mila: I’m so sorry! I just saw twitter. I told my co-worker we got married. I didn’t think she would post it.
Mila: Are you ignoring me? This is your fault! I didn’t know you had millions of people following you. I have like thirty people following me.
Mila: I am going to Jumpin’ Java to get coffee until I hear back from you.
Mila: I hope you’re okay. You better be! You have my son with you.
“I’m guessing it wasn’t just a rumor,” Jake jokes. “Looks like you’ll be cancelling your membership to Plush.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. The way he says it makes it sound like a bad thing, but the truth is since the day I moved in with Mila I haven’t thought once about going to the club, and now that I have complete access to all things Mila, I have no desire to be around any other woman besides her.
“Hey, listen, can you do me a favor and go out back with Alec, and then I’ll drive around and get him. I don’t want him to be stuck in the mob that I’m sure is already forming outside.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks. So, about next weekend. You still driving up with Troy?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. I’m driving up with Alec and Mila.”
“Wait a second! You married Mila? Charlie’s best friend? The hot nurse.”
I shoot him a glare. “Yes, and do me a favor and keep your opinions of her to yourself. I have a feeling these next couple weeks just got busier than I planned. Make sure you’re training with Troy and getting ready for your fight. Call or text me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, man. I will.”
“C’mon, Bruiser,” I call out to Alec. “Change of plans. We’re meeting your mom at Jumpin’ Java.”
After having Jake go out back with Alec, I head through the front door of the gym and sure enough, there’s an entire slew of photographers standing outside waiting for me.
They yell out a bunch of questions but I don’t say a word. After I pull around back, Alec gets in, and once we’re driving away, I click on my Bluetooth and have it call Mila.
She picks up on the first ring. “Mason.” Her voice sounds nervous, and I immediately feel like shit. It’s supposed to be my job to protect her and take care of her. We’ve been married for less than forty-eight hours and I’m already failing.
“I’m sorry. I was on the phone with my publicist when you were texting. Alec and I are on our way to you.”
“No, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have told anyone we were married. I didn’t know. I swear.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about and don’t ever apologize for telling someone we’re married. It will all die down. They’re just being nosy. I went from LA’s Most Eligible Bachelor to being married, and they haven’t even seen me date anyone.”
“Well, aren’t you a little full of yourself?” she smarts, and I laugh.
“Not when that’s what I was titled two years ago in the Los Angeles magazine.” She doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if she hung up on me. “Mila? You there?”
“Yeah. Wow. Where are you?”
“We’re on our way to you.”
“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”
I press end, and Alec asks, “So does this mean you’re whipped too?”
“Huh?” My eyes dart to the backseat.
“You said Tristan was stuck at the paint studio becaus
e he was whipped because he married Charlie. Are you whipped too?”
I throw my head back and laugh, remembering our conversation about never falling in love. “Yeah, Bruiser, I guess I am.”
“Ugh! Not you too.” He groans. “I hope it’s not contagious like the cooties.”
After settling into a corner booth with coffees—and pastries for Alec—I go over the different options Kenny gave me.
“I would imagine Ok! and People will pay the same amount no matter which one we go with. After the interview and photo shoot, they’ll transfer the money over. I’ll give Kenny your banking information, so that it’ll go through without issue, and the fans and media will calm down.”
Mila is staring at me like I have two heads, and I go back through everything I explained to her wondering if maybe I didn’t explain it correctly. “Do you have any questions?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not unless you know how to turn notifications off on my phone. I’ve received thousands of friend requests on every social media platform imaginable.”
She holds up her phone, the screen illuminating with request after request. I take it from her and turn the notifications off in her settings. “There you go.”
She sighs. “Thank you.”
Taking her hands in mine from across the table, I spot her silver band, and it gives me an idea. “C’mon. I have an errand to run. We can leave my car here, and we’ll come back and get it later.”
I jump up from my seat and pull her behind me, Alec trailing behind. If we don’t do this now, it won’t get done without people watching. We pull up to the same jeweler I went to with Tristan when he picked out Charlie’s ring, which reminds me I need to call him tonight.
“Mason, we don’t have to do this.” Mila stares at the jewelry store. “The band I have is fine. It’s actually similar to the one I used to have years ago.”
“No, it’s not fine.” I shake my head. “It was something cheap the chapel sold.” And knowing it looks anything like what she wore from her previous marriage only has me wanting to buy her a new ring that much more. Plus, maybe if I buy her a nice enough ring, she’ll forgive me for fucking this all up already.
“Okay, fine, but I want you to pick it out and nothing too expensive.” She smiles softly at me and my heart squeezes. She’s the complete opposite of the women I usually go out with. When Tristan met Charlie I thought she was a rare gem in a sea with stones, but it seems I’ve found my own gem, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep her.
Mila’s eyes dart down to my hand, a frown marring her features. “I don’t have the money to buy you a new ring.” Even if she had the money, there’s no way I would let her buy me a new ring. I don’t want her spending a dime on me.
“I’m a guy. My band is fine.” I turn around to Alec. “I need your help, Bruiser.”
“With fighting?” He perks up.
“Nah, with picking out a ring.” His nose scrunches up the same way his mom’s does all the time.
“I don’t know anything about that stuff.”
“Me either, kid.”
Twenty-One
Mila
Mason insisted I go into the store with them. I think he was afraid to leave me alone in fear the photographers would find us. We were greeted by a salesman and Mason told me to go away, then he followed the salesman over to the corner. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but the salesman went around the counter and pulled out several trays to show him various rings. Not wanting to hover, I walked over to the men’s rings. The woman was sweet and showed me a bunch of rings even after I told her I couldn’t afford anything.
Looking at them reminded me of when Gavin and I got married. We were so young and couldn’t afford anything more than two simple bands. They weren’t really pretty but they symbolized our vows—to be partners and the best parents we could be to Alec. The day I took my ring off, I swore the next one would be purchased out of love, not out of obligation. But here I stand, and while the situation is different, the ring Mason is purchasing isn’t any more out of love than the rings Gavin and I purchased. I feel my stomach knot and my throat close up enough that it’s hard to breathe. I glance over at Mason and know I need to put a stop to all of this.
“Mason, can we talk for a minute?” I approach him and ask softly.
“Sure.” He hands the card to the salesman. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, can you hold off on that for a minute?” Mason’s brows dip down in confusion along with the salesman’s but he nods.
Taking Mason by the hand, I pull him into the corner of the store so nobody can hear. “I don’t want a new ring.”
Mason frowns. “Why not? What happened?”
I could lie but instead I go for the truth. I spent too many years lying to myself when I was married the first time, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. I vowed to talk to Mason, and I’m going to make sure I hold up my end. “The last time I got married it was because I was pregnant with Alec. Gavin and I had dated for a little while but we weren’t in love. If I’m honest, we were on the verge of breaking up when I found out I was pregnant. We, of course, did the right thing and got married, but we were never really in love with each other. I told myself the next ring I wore, the next time I got married, would be with a man who loves me…a man who’s in love with me, and you’re not. We’re not. I know I said I didn’t want a divorce, but I was wrong.”
A single tear trickles down my cheek and lands on my collarbone. “I’m sorry.” I’m afraid to make eye contact with Mason but after a few beats of him not saying anything, I do. He’s staring at me, his features pained and confused. He grabs my hands and entwines our fingers, bringing our hands up to his lips and giving my knuckles a kiss.
“I’m sorry, Mila.” He sighs, and I hold my breath, ready for him to agree that he wants a divorce. Instead he shocks me when he says, “But I don’t want a divorce. I’ll hold off on giving you the ring if that’s what you want, and if you don’t want to wear the wedding band, I understand. But we’re not getting a divorce. We were sober when we said we meant our vows. I want to stay married to you. I know I’m messing this all up, but can you maybe give me a little more time? I’ll get the paparazzi under control. Please.”
“Mason, it’s not that. Yeah, I was a bit shocked by the number of people hanging around my house but that’s not the issue. We can mean our vows but we don’t love each other.” I choke on the last few words, knowing half of my statement is a lie…at least the part about how I feel. I’ve fallen in love with him, and I’m surprised at how quickly it happened.
“Can we please give it some time? I mean, we’re already married and living together. Everybody knows we’re married including Alec. Maybe over time you could love me. I’ve never done this before but can you give me a chance to try, please?”
His pleading look causes a storm of butterflies to attack my belly. I want to tell him I already love him. I fell for him through every message on Plenty of Fish while falling for him every day since he’s moved in with me, but instead I nod and agree. Maybe over time he’ll love me back.
“Okay, but no ring.”
“Fine. Let me go let the guy know. Head out to the car and I’ll be right out.” He hands me the keys, and as I go to grab them, he pulls the keys and my hand toward him, his lips crashing into mine. “Don’t give up on me, Mila. I promise you, you won’t regret it,” he whispers into my mouth before backing up.
I get out to the car, and glancing down at the silver band on my ring finger, I pull it loose and put it into the side pocket of my purse. There’s already a dent forming where the band has been resting on my finger. I swallow thickly, remembering when I took my ring off after I got divorced. It took nearly a year for the area to become tanned again and for the dent to disappear. It was like a constant reminder of my failed marriage.
We get home, and the paparazzi are camped out on the sidewalk of my townhome. Mason asks them to please give us some space and pro
mises he’ll be issuing a statement soon and then we head inside. Alec doesn’t seem bothered by them in the slightest, in fact, he’s more concerned that I’m making him shower before he can play his PlayStation.
We picked up dinner on the way home, so we don’t have to cook. We eat and Mason plays a few rounds of UFC on the PlayStation with Alec while I throw a load of laundry into the washer, wipe down the counters, and pay a couple of bills. When nine o’clock rolls around, I let Alec know it’s time for bed. He argues but Mason reminds him they have to get up early tomorrow so he stops and agrees.
After kissing him goodnight, I plop down on my bed and close my eyes for a second—debating whether to shower or just sleep like this, in my clothes. I’m spent—emotionally and physically—and the thought that it’s only Monday has me wanting to go to sleep and wake up next week. I feel Mason’s body shift onto the bed, his hands grabbing my shoe clad feet. He removes my shoes and I hear them hit the ground as he begins to massage the arch of my foot.
“What can I do to make this better?” Mason asks, and I can hear the insecurity in his voice. He told me I need to lead and right now he needs assurance.
“I can’t compete with all those women,” I admit. “I don’t even know why you married me. All those hot young women, and instead you tied yourself down to me. I’m a divorced single mom.”
Releasing my feet, he grabs hold of my hips and pulls me into his lap. “You’re right, there is no competition, because those women aren’t even in the same league as you.” He places a kiss to my lips. “You’re a professional fighter, the sexy-weight champion. You’re holding the belt, and they’re not even in the Ultimate Fighter.” I can’t help but giggle. Only Mason would find a way to bring the UFC into this.
“Once we announce we’re married, the women will go away. I’m not an actor in a bunch of movies. I’m just a fighter. Once they know I’m no longer available, they’ll move onto the next single guy.” Mason nuzzles his face into my hair, placing open-mouthed kisses down my neck. “Now, if I remember correctly, one of my vows was to make sure the sex is out of this world.” He waggles his eyebrows. “And if nothing else, I’m a man of my word.”
