by Ash, Nikki
“Thank you! I can’t believe the opening is tomorrow. I feel like everything I’ve ever wanted and dreamt of is coming true.” Tears fill her eyes and I pull her into another hug. Charlie has been through so much, more than anyone should ever have to go through, and it’s about damn time her dreams are turned into a reality.
“Because they are, and you deserve every bit of happiness life has to offer.”
“That she does.” Tristan comes out from the back of the studio where the children’s birthday party room is, and Charlie and I separate. “And so do you, Mila.” He gives me a soft smile.
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off. “So, do you need any help before tomorrow?”
Charlie twirls around the studio. “Nope. Tristan’s sisters have been a godsend. Everything is ready to go for the grand opening and I’m completely booked.” When Charlie was looking to hire help, Emma and Morgan, Tristan’s younger twin sisters, both volunteered. They’re both in college and Morgan is pregnant, due in June, so they’ll be working part-time.
“Completely booked?”
“Yep! Actually, the studio is completely booked for the next several weeks. I’m doing kids classes during the day a few days a week, and Emma and Morgan are running the adult parties in the evenings. I’m going to be working Saturdays and Emma will be working Sundays.”
“That’s amazing. Will they be running the place while you’re gone on your honeymoon?” Charlie and Tristan have picked March to get married and will be gone for close to two weeks on their honeymoon afterward. Charlie doesn’t know it yet, but Tristan booked them several days at Disney, followed by a week-long Disney cruise. It’s what she said she wanted, but I don’t think she really believed he would actually book both.
“Yes, thank goodness. I was worried about having to close so soon after opening, but they’ll be keeping it open for me while we’re gone.” Charlie’s smile fades. “Wait! Will you still be able to attend the wedding?” I frown and Charlie’s eyes go wide. “Mila…”
I grin. “Of course! I told HR I would need that Thursday and Friday off and they agreed.”
Charlie sighs in relief. “You scared me! Don’t do that again! I was already figuring out how to steal you away!”
* * *
“Mom! This is so boring! The girls are annoying and I hate painting,” Alec whines, and I shoot him the mom look. You know the one—it silently screams, “Complain one more damn time and I’m going to take everything humanly possible away from you for a long ass time.” Alec retreats, closing his mouth and sighing, and I immediately feel bad. His father was supposed to take him this weekend but canceled last minute, needing to meet with some big deal client, which means Alec is stuck with me at the paint studio for its grand opening.
“Mmhmm.” I turn toward the noise and see Mason standing there with a coffee in his hand and his eyes trained on…my butt? He’s in his signature short sleeve grey hoodie that he puts on to cover his body when he’s done working out and black workout shorts. His hair is tousled like it always is when he’s been sweating.
I clear my throat, and his mischievous blue eyes finally make their way up to my face. He shakes his head slowly. “Were you staring at my butt?” I whisper so only he can hear, calling him out.
He smirks then leans into me, his lips only a breath away from my ear. “I can’t help it… I’m an ass man, and you, my off-limits MILF, have a nice ass.” I roll my eyes. When Mason hit on me all those years ago, he had no clue I was a mom. When we reconnected a few months ago and he found out I have a son, he pulled back. Something about all moms being a no-go. I should be grateful he’s no longer hitting on me, especially since we have nothing in common and want completely different things in a relationship—I want one and he wants to get laid. And on top of that, him not wanting me because I have a child should be a huge red flag. My son and I are a package deal. But, the insecure woman in me kind of misses Mason hitting on me. It made me feel…I don’t know…sexy…un-mom-like.
“Brought you coffee.” He backs up and hands me my much-needed caffeine fix. I bring it up to my nose, smelling the aroma and wishing I could inhale it like a drug.
“Thank you.” My words come out in a moan and he chuckles.
“My pleasure.” Mason’s gaze darts around the studio at all of the people who are painting and chatting and laughing with each other. “This place is hopping.”
“Yeah, I’m really happy for Charlie.”
“Me too,” he agrees.
“Me too,” Alec joins in. “I just wish I could be happy away from these girls.” He glares at Georgia and Lexi, who both ignore his attitude and giggle. “Painting is boring and for girls.”
Mason laughs. “Hey now, painting can be fun and manly.”
“Really? Prove it,” Alec says, challenging Mason. I cover my mouth to hide my laughter.
“Game on.” Mason grabs two blank canvases from the storage closet and sets one on an empty easel then hands Alec the other one.
“Now, the key to painting is to become one with the canvas.” Alec tilts his head in confusion, and Mason grins mischievously. His eyes lock on mine, and he shoots me a flirtatious wink, causing the spot directly between my legs, which has been dormant for years, to awaken. It’s yawning and stretching, and I’m begging it to go back to sleep. Mason is not the guy I want my body to react to.
“If you want to be a painter, you have to look like a painter,” Mason says seriously. Grabbing a paintbrush, he dips it into the black paint and brings the paint-covered brush to Alec’s face. “Don’t move, kid, or you will literally become the canvas.” He draws a mustache across the top of Alec’s lip, and when he’s done, Alec turns to look in the mirror and laughs.
“Okay, now do me.” Mason hands Alec the paint brush and he draws a mustache across Mason’s upper lip. They both look ridiculous and completely adorable. Pulling out my phone, I take a picture of the two of them. A few months ago, Alec met Mason for the first time, and it was probably one of the best moments of his life. Mason is a huge UFC fighter, and Alec is his biggest fan. Mason walks on water as far as Alec is concerned.
“All right, now your mom.” Mason grins wide as I glare.
“No, I don’t think…”
“Yes, Mom! You need to look like a painter too.”
“Fine,” I relent, then bend down slightly so Alec can draw a fake mustache across my upper lip. Mason shakes with laughter, and I vow to get revenge.
“Take a picture of all of us!” Alec exclaims once he’s done and, because I can’t say no to him, I do. The three of us squeeze in close, and I snap a picture, quickly putting my phone back in my pocket without looking at it.
“All right, now that we look like painters, we have to pick what we’re going to paint,” Mason points out.
“The girls are painting hearts for Valentine’s Day.” Alec gags.
“Oh no.” Mason shakes his head dramatically. “That won’t do.” He leans into Alec. “Unless you’re painting a heart for your mom, that is.” He winks at me again, and I plead with my girly parts to ignore him. It’s no wonder he has women eating out of his hand.
“What’s the theme in your room?” Mason asks Alec.
“UFC! I have posters of you and George St Pierre!” Yep, that’s right. I have to stare at half-naked pictures of Mason on my son’s walls.
“Nice!” Mason fist bumps Alec. “What’s your favorite part of fighting?”
“When I watch the Ultimate Fighter, I think hitting the bag looks cool.”
“All right, then that’s what we’ll paint: the punching bag.” He pulls his phone out and a few seconds later, he pulls up an image of a punching bag. “Ready?”
“Yes!”
They spend the next thirty minutes painting their red and black punching bags. Mason suggests they add the UFC logo to their painting and Alec agrees. When they’re done, Alec calls me over to show me his painting. “Can I hang this on my wall?” he asks, pride evident in his voice.
“Of course you can. You did an amazing job.”
“See, kid. Painting isn’t just for girls.”
“I guess it was cool,” Alec admits. “But I’d still rather be fighting.” Mason chuckles and agrees.
“I can take him to the gym,” he says to me.
“Really?” Alex jumps out of his seat. “Yes! Can he? Please, Mom.”
“I don’t think…” I start to say, but Alec cuts me off, his begging becoming even more dramatic as if being here any longer just might kill him.
Mason laughs at my son’s theatrics. “I’ll be next door working out. He can hang out and spar with me.”
“Are you sure?”
Mason nods. “Yeah. No reason to force him to be here.” He leans into Alec. “The only guy that has to be here is Tristan because he’s pu—” My eyes bug out, but he quickly corrects himself. “Because he’s whipped.”
“What do you mean he’s whipped?” Alec asks curiously, and I smirk. Get yourself out of this one…
“You know…in love.” Mason scrunches up his nose in mock disgust, and Alec giggles. “So, he’s stuck hanging out here instead of at the gym.” He shrugs.
“Ewww! I’m never gonna be whipped or in love!”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Mason high-fives him, and they both head to the door. Before they leave, Mason turns around and says, “Just come by and get him when you’re done.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Several hours and too many parties to count later, and Charlie says goodbye to the last customer, closing the door behind her. Emma, Morgan, and I all drop onto the bench seats at the same time.
“I owe you guys forever.”
My phone goes off in my pocket and I pull it out. It’s Gavin letting me know he’ll pick Alec up from me tomorrow to spend time with him. I text him back that’s fine and then panic.
“Where’s Alec?” I stand, my eyes darting all over the studio.
“At the gym with Mason.” Charlie laughs. “Tristan took the girls home a couple hours ago.” I glance at my phone. Holy shit! It’s been like eight hours since Mason took Alec next door.
“I better go get him.” I head for the door. “Poor Mason has been babysitting all day.”
Charlie laughs some more. “Don’t be fooled. It was probably Alec who was babysitting Mason.”
“Yeah, somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.” Emma and Morgan snort-laugh.
“Congratulations on your grand opening.” I give Charlie a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch,” I call out as I rush out of the studio.
I arrive next door and the gym is still open. Since it’s technically after hours, there’s nobody manning the front desk. I glance around the gym and spot Mason in the center of the octagon. There are several guys standing along the ropes, but I don’t see Alec anywhere. I walk a little closer as Mason and whoever he’s fighting turn slightly, and that’s when I realize my son is in the center with Mason.
He’s wearing head gear and gloves, striking Mason as he dodges each punch while the guys clap and shout moves at him. When Mason turns, I see the most taunting, sexy, cocky-as-hell grin directed at my son. I’ve seen Mason fight too many times to count, including in Vegas a few months ago in person, but watching him up close in his element is different.
Alec throws a left hook and Mason weaves out of the way. Alec huffs in annoyance and Mason laughs.
“C’mon, kid…loosen up,” Mason taunts him some more. Alec spins with a round house kick, and Mason moves out of the way just before he can connect. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and snap a couple photos. When the heck did my little boy grow up?
Mason stops blocking and quickly takes over the fight. When I briefly stop watching Alec to focus on Mason, I realize he’s shirtless. As Alec backs up, Mason’s wrapped hand comes up quickly and he runs his fingers through his hair, smirking at Alec, taunting him to not run. I approach even closer and am able to get a better view of Mason. I watch the beads of sweat trickle down his muscular pecs, continuing down the ridges of his abs and ending where that sexy as hell V meets his shorts. They’re hanging low on his waist, unlike the ones he’s required to wear during a real fight.
Almost as if he can feel me gawking over him like a horny freaking teenager, his eyes dart away from my son and land on me. His brows lift in that smug way that remind me why I stay away from him. The side of his lip curls up into a knowing grin, and I roll my eyes. And then…he’s on his ass.
Chapter Four
Mason
I’ve spent too many days to count with Lexi, whether it’s hanging out with her at home or at the gym, watching her for Tristan, or hanging out with the two of them. We color and paint and watch her girly shows. We play dress up and play with her dolls, and sometimes she even convinces me to bake with her. But spending the day with Alec is different. He’s all boy: rough and rowdy and energetic. He’s obsessed with the UFC and fighting. Unlike Lexi, who hates the gym with a passion, Alec is enamored with everything associated with it. We spent most of the day with Alec shadowing me. We went for a short run—very short. The kid is only eight years old after all. We worked out using weights, had lunch with some of the guys at a restaurant down the street, where Alec fanboyed like crazy over some of the well-known guys he’s seen in fights, and then we came back to the gym so I could get some sparring in.
When I asked him if he’s ever fought, he shook his head, and it boggled my mind that someone could love something so much and never have even experienced it firsthand. So, after having Alec watch some of my friends, Troy Declan and Jake Finning—who are also UFC fighters—spar against me, I told him it was his turn. The passion and love for the sport shines so brightly in his eyes, it’s almost blinding. I was older than Alec when I was introduced to the UFC, but I remember everything I felt the first time I was brought into the octagon: the fear, nervousness, and excitement all mixed together. It was like a natural high, a rush that’s impossible to fully understand until you’re in that position.
Alec and I are circling each other. Of course I’m taking it easy on the kid, but at the same time I’m not letting him catch me. He’s giving it all he’s got. Punching and kicking, trying every move he’s seen on TV. The guys are rooting for him and it’s spurring him on. He throws another left hook and I jump out of the way. I can see it in his face, he’s getting more and more frustrated and it has me laughing. I can’t help it. To me, fighting is one big game of cat and mouse. Sure, it’s about strength and follow through, but it’s more than that. It’s about learning the opponent. Watching their every move and learning how they tick. It’s about being patient and never getting frustrated. You have to be smart. Memorize their moves. And when the time is right, you go in for the kill.
I feel someone watching me from the sidelines, and when I turn to see who it is, I spot Mila checking me out. Her eyes are dragging down my body, and she’s practically eye-fucking me right here in front of her son. Unlike this morning when I saw her at the art studio with her hair down in waves, it’s now up in a messy bun. She’s still dressed the same, though, in a plain black V-neck tee that shows off her perky tits, and a pair of tight jeans, ripped down her legs. To complete her outfit, she’s wearing a pair of black Nike’s, unlike most of the women I know who wear high heels everywhere they go. She’s the perfect mix of girly and sexy, and I need to stop looking at her… but I can’t.
When my eyes meet hers, I give her a knowing smirk—the one that says she’s been busted checking me out. Her beautiful green-brown eyes roll in mock annoyance, and I chuckle, completely forgetting that I’m in the middle of sparring with her son. But guess who doesn’t forget? Alec. He takes advantage of my momentary distraction, and before I know it’s coming, he delivers a successful punch to my jaw, hitting just right. Because I don’t have a mouth guard in since I was only sparring with an eight-year-old, my lip clashes against my teeth when his fist connects. Losing my balance, I stumble back and land on my ass. I run my tong
ue over my busted lip and feel the open cut.
Glancing up, I see Alec standing over me, worry evident in his features. I shake my head, laughing that I was just taken down by a damn kid, and he visibly sighs.
“That was badass! I’m thinking your new name around here should be Bruiser.” I feel my bruised lip again, the metallic taste of blood trickling into my mouth and hitting my taste buds. Then I dart my eyes toward Mila, who is standing there in shock, her hands covering her mouth. “Please tell me you’re going to sign him up for classes.”
Jake and Troy crack up laughing, and Brent, the gym manager, brings me over a wet washcloth to press on my bleeding mouth.
“Can I, Mom?” Alec runs toward his mom to beg her. “Please, can I?”
She looks torn when she says, “We’ll see, sweetie. I’ll speak to your dad about it when he picks you up tomorrow night.” Alec’s shoulders slump, but he doesn’t argue. “Go grab your stuff. We need to get home.”
He jumps out of the octagon and heads back toward the front where I had him put his electronics earlier. I stand and cut across the octagon until I’m right in front of Mila, only the ropes separating us.
“Let me see.” Her fingers wrap around mine as she moves the washcloth from my lip. “I don’t think it will need stitches.” She gives me a small smile. “Thank you for hanging out with Alec today.”
“No problem.” I shrug. “He’s a good kid, and as you can see, he’s good at MMA. Lessons would be good for him, especially since he loves the sport.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s been asking more and more lately to sign up. I need to go over my bills, though, before I can say yes. I got a new job yesterday, which will help, but Charlie has been paying half the bills. I need to find a new roommate before I can commit to spending money like that.”
“What about his dad?” I have no clue why I ask that. This isn’t my business. Mila and her son aren’t my business.
