by Lane Hart
Camilla is still constantly sending me text messages and shit. I should block her number, but I haven’t yet, for some unknown reason.
Before I can blink, Cass lets go of her rod to reach over. She plucks my phone from my fingers and then tosses it into the lake. “Whoops,” she says when it lands with a plop before it sinks down into the murky water.
My jaw hangs open, and it takes several long moments before I can speak. The whole time I’m flailing, Cass is laughing her ass off.
“I can’t believe you did that!” I tell her when I finally recover.
“Believe it, buddy. Your wish is my command.” Spreading her arms wide, Cass takes in a deep breath. “This is your chance to reconnect with nature and disconnect from the stress of the rest of the world.”
“What if the office calls needing my help on a case?” I ask.
“The rest of the attorneys have law degrees too. I’m sure they can figure out whatever it is without your help.”
“You’re trying to get me fired,” I accuse.
“No, I’m not,” she huffs.
“Yes, you are!”
“Would that be the worst thing if you got fired and had to move home?” she asks. And no, it really wouldn’t be, not that I’m ready to admit that to her.
Instead, I say, “Would it be the worst thing if the clothes you’re wearing get wet?”
“Huh?”
I’m out of my seat and picking her up around her waist faster than she can figure out my intentions. When she lands in the lake, she makes a splash so big that even I get wet.
Cass’s head surfaces with strands of her stringy, dripping blonde hair plastered to her angry face.
“Whoops,” I say with a grin.
She grabs on to the rail on the side of the boat. “You’re gonna feel really shitty if I get a brain-eating amoeba from the bacteria in the water and die.”
“You’re right,” I say on a sigh before I take a running jump off the boat. Wrapping my arm around my knees, I cannonball into the water for maximum splash.
As soon as my feet hit the bottom of the shallow depths, I kick my way up to resurface and swipe a hand over my wet face. “If you’re gonna die from a brain-eating amoeba, then I’ll just have to go with you.”
“That’s real smart, genius,” Cass says before she splashes water in my face.
“I would never forgive myself if I hurt you, much less killed you from a very rare infection.”
“Then we both may only have a few days to live,” she replies while treading water. “Guess we should make the most of them.”
“We should,” I agree. And then I immediately feel shitty when my first thought is to pull her to me and kiss her while my hands work quickly to remove our wet clothing.
Those stupid notions need to stop. I’ve been selfishly fucking my way through women to make myself feel better, and Cassidy deserves better.
I also know that kissing Cass would give her the wrong idea, and that wouldn’t be fair to her because she would think it means more than it does.
Cass is my best friend; and after going years when I barely got to see her, I don’t want to live without her in my life. If we hooked up, it would probably ruin everything, because I would end up hurting her and she would never forgive me.
“I bet I can swim faster than you to the shore and back to the boat,” Cass challenges. And beating her at something is one thing I’ll never feel guilty about.
“You’re on –” I start to say when she splashes me and takes off laughing, getting a head start.
Chapter Five
Cassidy
After we got home from the lake and showered before putting on dry clothes, I dragged Xavier to Havoc, as promised.
Not that we showered together or anything or that the idea ever crossed my mind…more than a handful of times while the hot water was washing over my naked body.
Nope, definitely not.
We’ve been at the gym for about half an hour before I spot the obvious – Xavier was made for the cage. He looks at home in it. And sexy. Really damn sexy. While I may tease him later about the spandex shorts that leave very little to the imagination, I sort of love them. He’s shirtless too, revealing all those enormous muscles he usually keeps hidden under layers of clothing. It should be a crime for him to wear a suit. I don’t know which is more impressive — his biceps, his pectorals or his abs. Ooh, definitely those V-shaped pelvic indentions leading down into the black spandex shorts…
Someone interrupts my perusal when they rub a white towel over my lips.
Jerking back, I exclaim, “What the…hey!” When I recognize the culprit as Macy, Xavier’s little sister, I give her a hug.
“Hey yourself! I was wiping up your drool,” she says with a snicker when she pulls away from our embrace.
“I wasn’t drooling,” I say as I turn my head to subtly wipe the corners of my lips just to make sure. When I glance over at Macy again, she’s arching a dark eyebrow, giving me her you’re-full-of-shit look that’s so similar to Xavier’s.
I haven’t seen her in a few weeks but not much has changed. She still wears her dark hair in tight braids against her head while she’s training. She’s a few inches shorter than Xavier and myself, but there are cuts of muscle on her arms while mine are lean and…weak.
“You’ve wanted my brother forever,” Macy says. “You’re telling me that’s suddenly changed now that he’s staying under the same roof with you? He’s single; you’re single.”
“No clue what you’re talking about,” I mutter. “And I am dating.”
“Nothing serious yet, though, right?” she asks. Without even waiting for my response, she laces her fingers through the cage fence, and says, “Although, now that I think about it, I mean, it’s possible you’ve changed your mind after cohabitating. I lived in a house with Zave for years, and pigs are probably more hygienic.”
“I-I don’t want him like that,” I argue while watching Xavier carry out some punch and kick combo in the cage so flawlessly that it looks like a form of ballet. “We’re friends. Just friends.”
“I’d find that assertion more believable if you could say it without staring at him with your nipples pointing the way.”
Without a thought, I slap my arm over my chest.
“I’m…I’m just cold,” I look over and tell her.
“Just friends. Just cold. So many excuses,” Macy grumbles with a roll of her brown eyes. “But whatever. Keep lying to yourself. And eventually Zave will start dating some other ho-bag wanna be model and it’ll be too late. Then, you’ll have to smile and pretend like your heart isn’t breaking into a million pieces through another one of his boring weddings.”
“That’s not…my heart wasn’t…God, you are such a pain in the ass! Must be a genetic trait,” I huff.
“Yo, Zave!” Macy calls out to her brother.
“Don’t you dare say anything to him!” I hiss while grabbing her arm to pull her away from the cage.
“What? I was just saying hello to my brother,” she laughs. “It’s fucked up that he came to see you before me when he got into town.”
“There’s my annoying little sister!” Xavier says when he jogs out of the cage door and down the steps. He wraps Macy up in a hug that lifts her off her feet.
“Yuck! You’re all sweaty and gross!” she complains while pushing him away.
“Now you are too,” he chuckles. “Where have you been? Josh said you were here, but we couldn’t find you.”
“I went and sat in the sauna after I finished my workout,” she informs him. “What are you doing here? Why haven’t you been by before now? Have you seen mom and dad yet?”
“Um, no. I was planning to go by and see them later today,” Xavier responds, reaching up to run his fingers through his damp hair and ignoring her question about why he’s working out.
“Liar,” Macy huffs. “I’m surrounded by liars. So many pants and panties are on fire. It must be contagious.”
&nbs
p; “I don’t know how you deal with mom and dad breathing down your neck all the time, asking a million questions about your life,” Xavier grumbles, thankfully ignoring her comment about liars.
“They can be pains in the ass and a little intrusive but only because they give a shit,” Macy tells him. Punching his shoulder, she says, “Go see them! It’ll take some of the pressure off me for a few days while you’re in town!”
“Okay. I will,” he agrees. Looking over at me, he asks her, “Can you give Cass a ride home? I’ll drive my rental car over when I leave here.”
So, I guess I’m not invited to go see his parents with him. What’s up with that? And why does it bother me?
“Great,” Macy says. “I’m ready when you are,” she tells me.
“Yeah, sure,” I agree, throwing my arm around her shoulder. “It’ll give us a chance to catch up on who you’ve been dating.”
“No one,” she says. “I’m not seeing anyone. No time for the drama.”
“Sure,” I drawl as I guide her to the exit.
Looking over my shoulder at Xavier, I mouth the words, “Go talk to Coach Briggs!”
He gives me a nod of agreement before he gets back into the cage. I really hope he doesn’t chicken out.
When Macy and I climb into her Jeep, she says, “What are you sleeping in? Showing a lot of skin?” as soon as the doors shut.
“Huh?” I ask.
“If you’re trying to reel in my brother while he’s in town, then you need to go for broke before he begins his whorequest.”
“Whorequest?”
“He’s been in a shitty marriage for two years, stuck with the bitch for three years counting when they dated. Now that he’s free…well, he’s probably not going to sit around alone at home when he could fuck through his feelings. That’s what Zave has always done.”
“Oh, well from what he’s told me, the whorequest is well underway,” I remark.
“Jeez, he doesn’t waste any time!” she grumbles before starting the Jeep and turning the knob to blast the air conditioner. I hear her sniffing, her nose crinkling before she says, “Something smells like fish.”
“Well, uh, that’s probably me,” I announce. “Xavier and I went fishing at the lake.”
“Now that I think about it, he smelled a little fishy too under the stench of sweat,” Macy says. “What did you two do? Roll around with dead fish?”
“Sort of,” I reply with a cringe. “We got into the lake.”
“Needwood?”
“Yep.”
“Do you have a death wish?” she asks as we pull out of the gym parking lot and hit the road.
“It was Xavier’s fault,” I tell her. “He threw me in, and then he jumped in.”
“You were flirting with each other?”
“What? No. We’re two friends messing around is all,” I say.
“But you want to be more than friends,” she points out.
“He just ended his marriage, and I’m not going to ruin two decades of friendship if we cross the line into more and it turns out to be a disaster.”
“Right,” Macy says. “Because it’s perfectly healthy to go twenty years and have an unrequited love so strong that it prevents you from dating for all those years.”
“I date,” I declare.
“When? Who?” she asks, stealing a glance at me before her eyes return to the road again.
“Recently, and I’m seeing two guys, thank you very much.”
“Really?” Macy asks. “Are you sleeping with them?”
“Yes.”
“Are they big guys? Dark hair.”
“Uh-huh. How did you know?” I ask.
“Let me guess, you close your eyes and pretend they’re Xavier when you’re fucking, don’t you?” she asks, making my jaw drop.
“Macy Malone! You spend way too much time with foul-mouthed fighters.”
“Maybe the foul-mouthed fighters just spend too much time with me,” she counters with a grin. “So? Tell the truth. The men you date aren’t even close to the real thing, are they?”
Eddie and Mike are both big, tan, buff guys like Xavier, with dark brown and black hair. I just have a type, that’s all. I’m not trying to find a substitute for my best friend, am I?
“You totally do!” Macy exclaims. “Don’t even deny it. I see the truth written all over your face. You love my brother and are screwing his stand-ins.”
“My sex life has nothing to do with Xavier.”
“It has everything to do with Xavier!” Macy exclaims. “And that is not healthy, girl.”
“I can’t help if I have a type that’s similar to your brother. I just want someone who is fun to be around, sweet and attractive.”
“And you won’t ever find anyone else to check all of your boxes, because you don’t want someone like Xavier, you want him! So just go for it, Cass.”
“No.”
“Can you honestly say that on the day of his wedding when I found you sobbing in the church’s bathroom before the ceremony that you weren’t regretting never telling him how you felt?” she asks.
“Nope. Those were tears of happiness for him.”
“Who has the foul-mouth? You called Camilla a heartless cunt-canoe with an evil, wretched soul who would eventually eat my brother alive!” Macy reminds me.
“And for the record, I was totally right about that,” I say. “Although, Xavier hasn’t said what happened to end things. Has he told you?”
“No,” she replies. “I just assumed he got tired of her nagging voice telling him she wanted to go shopping. Did you know that she ran up, like, tens of thousands of dollars in credit card debt?”
“What a dumb bitch.”
“In Xavier’s name!”
“Oh, wow,” I mutter since I didn’t know that.
“He’s making decent money, but it’ll still take years for him to pay that off with the mortgage on their place and all too.”
“No doubt,” I agree. Is that another reason why Xavier doesn’t want to quit his job to fight? Because he doesn’t think he can afford to change careers?
If so, I would gladly loan him the money so he could chase his dreams.
Chapter Six
Xavier
I take a shower and then sit in the locker room at Havoc for ten minutes, spinning my wedding band around my finger, trying to decide if I should just leave or try to talk to Coach Briggs.
What I’m considering is crazy. He’s probably going to laugh at me and then tell me to get my head out of the clouds and back in the law books back in Seattle.
I’m certain it’s a waste of his time. But once I’m dressed, I find myself outside of his office for one reason – later today Cassidy will ask me if I talked to him, and if I don’t, she’ll be disappointed in me.
And letting down Cass feels almost as shitty as letting down my parents.
“Coach?” I ask when I rap my knuckles on his open door.
“Yeah?” he calls out before he looks up and sees me. He blinks at me for several silent seconds. “Holy shit, you look just like your father when he was your age, only bigger and with less scowling!” he says with a grin before he gets up from behind his desk and comes around to shake my hand. “How are you doing, Xavier?”
“I’m good,” I tell him. “How have you been?” My Uncle Jude married Coach’s daughter Sadie, so it’s not uncommon to see him at holiday get-togethers. That means his granddaughters are my cousins, and they are both something else, beautiful and smart with hearts of gold.
“Busier than ever,” he says. “Your generation can’t seem to get enough fights. I have guys up here and down in Cary taking on three or four fights in six months’ time, which is insane, but they love it.”
“Oh really?” I ask, surprised they can be ready for a fight so fast. Back when my dad was the middleweight world champion, he only had maybe one or two fights a year. He got paid about a million each, so I guess that’s why he could afford to take the time off.
“Yeah, MMA is bigger than ever before with the fans,” Coach says. “But anyway, what brings you in? Visiting your folks?”
“My ten-year high school reunion is this weekend, so I’m here for that and to catch up with everyone,” I reply.
Hands braced on his hips, he says, “So, is this just a social visit to catch up, or is there something I can do for you?”
“Well, um, it’s sort of ludicrous, but do you have a few minutes to talk with me?” I ask.
“Sure, sure,” he tells me before going around his desk to sit back down.
I shut his office door before I take a seat in one of the visitor chairs, because I don’t want anyone else to overhear our absurd conversation.
“So, ah, well, I was just wondering…I mean, I know I’m out of my prime years and all…”
“You want to fight,” Coach Briggs says as he leans back in his chair with his arm crossed over his chest.
“I’m wasting my time even considering it, right?” I ask.
“You’re the son of one of the greatest fighters of all time, the nephew of another world champion in not one but two weight classes. If you have even a sliver of the talent your sister has, and I know you do from when you were training here back in high school, then you could come out swinging in your forties and no one would probably blink an eye.”
“So you think I could have a shot at not only getting fights but winning them?”
“If I were a betting man, and you started a rigorous training camp tomorrow, I would put money on you having a championship belt within three years’ time.”
“Now you’re just being facetious,” I tell him.
“I’m being one-hundred percent honest,” Coach says. “Hell, I could make the call right now and have your first fight booked in five minutes,” he adds when he picks up his cell phone.
“No! No way,” I exclaim to stop him. “I’m just kicking around an idea. It’s nothing I want to jump into. I’m a corporate attorney at a prestigious firm in Seattle. That’s not something I can just walk away from.”
