by Lily Zante
I gave him a boner.
Me.
He treats me with disdain, and pretends to put up with me because his sister told him to be nice to me, and now he tells that the bulge in his shorts is because of me?
Hard to believe.
It’s a trick to get me into the hot tub, and this forwardness on Eli’s part startles me. I seriously consider the possibility that he is high.
“I don’t mean in that way,” he says, eyes wide open now. “I meant that I was thinking about you because of the way I treated you before.”
Oh. His words are a slap to my newfound euphoria, and my hopes deflate like a lead balloon.
“Before? You mean from the very first time when we met or earlier today when I arrived here, because you looked pretty annoyed then.”
“When I was sparring? I had headgear on. How could you tell?”
“So you were annoyed?”
“How could you tell?” he repeats.
“I don’t need to see your face to know that. It’s in your gait, in your posture, in the air around you.”
A smile spreads across his beautiful face. “You’ve been keeping a close eye on me, huh?”
“I have an assignment to do, and I’m trying to do it.”
“I know. I haven’t made it easy, even though I’ve tried.” His voice is softer and he sits up and folds his arms. My eyes fall to his shoulders and I have this urge to smother his wet skin with kisses. It killed me to see him surrounded by all those wanton women at the party. I hated Athena and I hated that Eli gave her so much attention.
I hate that I barely got two words from him. I’ve spent the past few nights torturing myself with those images, and now I have him all to myself.
I’m honored that he’s talking to me as if he cares, and I’m also wary because of his chameleon-like personality. I don’t know if he’s being sincere or if he’s playing with me.
I don’t know what to say because I don’t know Elias Cardoza despite having spent weeks with him. What does that say about me? Or him? Or us?
“I tried to make it up to you over dinner,” he says.
“By asking me to pass the salt?”
“I was trying to make conversation.”
“That was your attempt?”
“I didn’t hear you try,” he remarks.
“I didn’t have any reason to make it up to you because I haven’t done anything wrong as far as I can tell.”
Our gazes lock. He lifts his chin and looks as if he’s unsure of what to say. I would give anything to know what’s running through that mind of his.
“Have I done something wrong?” I want to know, and since this is the closest we’ve ever come to having this type of conversation, I figure this could be my best chance.
His face hardens. His expression turns to stone. “Showing up at the gym maybe?”
He just lost me again. “I had a job to do.”
“Snooping around in people’s lives?”
“You’re a person of interest.”
“Would you like it if I snooped around in your life, Princess?”
What did he call me? I fold my arms and I’m about to ask him this very thing, but he reaches for his earphone and inserts it into his ear. He’s closed off to me again, and that flirty, light banter vanishes.
A coldness lies in the space between us.
Maybe that’s not a bad thing.
I wouldn’t have been able to resist him for much longer. I would have joined him in the tub and then he would have claimed my soul.
Eli has already done that. It’s a one-sided infatuation because he barely knows I exist. I’m reminded of those beautiful creatures we bumped into that night at Waquito’s and I know the type of woman he likes.
And I’m not it.
He wasn’t my type of guy either, not before, but this man has made my body do things that are out of my control. The throbbing in my heart reverberates outwards and moves in between my legs. It tells me everything.
I have to make an effort to shift my body, to move back towards the door, even though I’ve been dismissed. He’s closed his eyes again, and he’s listening to his music.
Chapter Twenty-Four
ELI
* * *
I dismiss her and get back to listening to my music, but the truth is I am so hard, I can’t sit here much longer.
The look on her face has been priceless the entire time. I didn’t realize until now how much of a good time I have playing around with Harper; making her uncomfortable and joking with her to come into the hot tub with me. Her expression when I stood up after telling her I was completely naked—you can’t put a monetary value on that. My mouth curls up in amusement just thinking about it, especially knowing that I haven’t even laid a finger on her.
I’m not going to, but it’s not as if I haven’t thought about it.
What I told her was true. I was thinking about her. I was thinking about that time she was at Waquito’s talking to Callum. I didn’t like it, and I’ve been trying to figure out why ever since. I block things out, but seeing her with someone else brought it to the fore. I think I’ve figured it out. The thing with Harper is that she doesn’t fall at my feet. She doesn’t throw herself at me like Athena does. But it’s also that I’ve told her more than I ever intended to about my past, my life, my childhood.
I should have known better, and I don’t understand why I did that. She’s a fucking journalist, for Christ’s sake. And yet, getting that crap off my chest has been enlightening.
I sense that I can trust her, and she surprises me on every level. It’s her unpredictability that puts her in my head and keeps her there.
I didn’t want her to show up, but I knew she’d be coming. But seeing her when she turned up made it real. I knew then that it would be tough keeping her out. It’s not as if I don’t have enough to contend with. The fight is only two weeks away. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate with Harper around? I slipped in my earphone, and hoped it would send her the message.
When I opened my eyes, she was gone.
* * *
HARPER
* * *
As surprising as it seemed, I managed to sleep last night after leaving Eli in the hot tub. The long drive, and the long day and the tsunami of emotions that swept over me just from talking to him left me exhausted.
The next day in between his boxing sessions and his exercises, Eli comes over and asks me how I am.
It takes me by surprise on many levels, but I manage to give him a proper reply. I tell him I'm okay. Before he has a chance to say anything else, Lou calls him over and he disappears, much to my relief.
Lou seems to be harder on him here. He has him doing a lot of runs to build up his stamina. He shouts more too.
I get the lowdown on the training regimen from Santos and Jake, who are a minefield of information, and this means I have lots to add to my piece.
My dad calls me while I’m writing up my notes. I take the call away from the gym area and walk out into the hallway. This place is a maze of doors and corridors. Nothing like a home. I want to find a window to look out of, but there isn’t one.
“Where are you?” he asks. It’s the first thing he says, and the lack of a greeting tells me he’s annoyed.
“In Wisconsin, at the training camp.”
Before I get a chance to elaborate, he asks, “What training camp?”
I realize I haven’t told him. I explain, and the disapproving sound he emits makes me wish I hadn’t said anything. I wish I had lied and told him I was covering a gala event in the city.
“When are you coming back?”
I’m quickly on alert. “Why?”
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he tells me.
“I’ll be back at the end of the week.”
“We’ll meet for dinner one evening,” he suggests, putting on a casual tone, but I know he hasn’t called me for nothing.
“What is it, Dad?”
“Nothing. I
want to see my daughter. I’m allowed to, aren’t I? Call me when you’re back.”
“Okay, I will. Love you.”
Later that day, I find out that we're all going out to eat, to save Margrit from doing the cooking. And, Lou says, we could all do with a change of scenery.
They all came up a few days before I did and I’m not surprised they feel claustrophobic. I feel like this and it’s only my second day. He tells us that there’s a nice restaurant nearby that Dwayne recommended. So we go out.
Santos drives the SUV that’s big enough to accommodate all of us.
Unfortunately, I’m in the back with Eli, and our knees knock together from time to time. I shuffle away, as if his touch is poisonous. It’s not. It’s electric, and explosive, and it puts me on edge again.
The music is on, and in front of us, Lou and Margrit are talking, so it’s not as if anyone can eavesdrop in on our conversation, but neither of us mentions last night. Instead we keep making small talk, like really small small talk, about his training, and Nina, and the fight. I don’t know how long the ride will be, but I’m conscious of his knee, and his scent, and everything about him.
It’s hard for me to erase the image of him in the hot tub, and to forget the conversation we had. It’s especially hard for me to control the way my heart thumps against my ribcage.
When we get out, I make a dive for Lou and Margrit and manage to sit in between them at the restaurant. I don’t think I can take sitting next to Eli during the whole of dinner.
It’s a small Italian restaurant, and the food is homemade deliciousness. Authentic Italian cooking, the chef tells us. It’s small enough that he comes out and talks to his customers, while ordering his waiters around like minions. When he finds out that we’re staying at Dwayne Banks’ house, and that Dwayne recommended we eat here, he becomes even more animated.
Soon, the other customers in the restaurant discover who Eli is and when talk spreads that he’s in the big fight with Garrison, they all want pictures with him. He willingly obliges.
Watching him, I conclude that he’s good with people. It’s just me he’s not so good with.
Thankfully, the meal is quick, and Lou and Margrit don’t want to linger. They want to go home. I don’t want to be left here with the three guys, and so I say that I want to go back with them. It's still early enough that I can get back to my room and check my emails and tend to work business, and then have a bit of the evening left to unwind.
“No drinking and no women, you hear me?” Lou says to Eli.
“As if I would,” he replies.
“And don’t make it a late night either. I'm going to switch up your training tomorrow.”
“Isn't it a bit late to be telling me that now?” Eli asks. “What are you changing up?”
“I'm still thinking about it.”
“Great,” I hear Eli mutter as I walk past.
“Why are you leaving?” he asks in a low voice as he grabs my hand to stop me. He lets it go as soon as I turn to answer.
“Because I want to go back.”
“Stay.”
His request surprises me. “For what? So you can shoot me down again like you did yesterday?”
Jake and Santos hear our conversation and chime in. They also want me to stay, and say that we can have a few shots, and Eli can watch.
“Just because he can’t have fun, doesn’t mean we can’t,” says Santos.
“That’s tempting,” I reply with a grin, just to show Eli that I like the other guys, it’s only him I have a problem with.
“Then stay,” Jake insists.
“Yeah, stay,” Santos says. “You’ll have more fun with us than you will with Lou.”
He and Jake laugh as if he’s made a silly joke. Eli doesn’t. His face stiffens. I wait for him to ask me again, but he doesn’t say a thing. I wouldn’t have stayed even if he had. The roller-coaster ride of being around Eli isn’t good for my blood pressure.
“Are you coming?” Lou shouts, sticking his head back through the door.
“I’m coming.”
I rush out and we drive home. I’m more relaxed on this ride than I was on the way here.
When we get back to the training camp, Lou and Margrit retire and I return to my room and then reply to a few emails.
I lay back on the bed and flip on the TV, but nothing appeals to me. I decide to make the most of the evening, given that the guys are out. I decide to make use of the hot tub, or the sauna, or maybe both.
Because I don't have a bikini or a swimsuit, I take my towel, and still in my jeans and T-shirt, I make my way to the spa room.
The room is empty. I hadn’t expected that Lou or Margrit would be in here, but it’s still reassuring to know that it’s empty.
I walk past the hot tub, and over to the sauna. There’s a window in here which looks onto the hot tub, and I push my face against it to take a look inside but I can’t see much. This is what I wanted to check out yesterday but Eli being here prevented me.
I push the door open, then switch on the light. It’s tubular shaped and wooden inside. Long, rather than wide, with two benches facing one another. It’s enough for two people to lie toe-to-toe on each bench.
I can’t decide where I want to go. I glance over at the hot tub, and the water looks still and cold. The sauna looks more appealing, and it’s a clear winner.
I decide to heat myself up, and then cool off in the hot tub. So I close the sauna door and turn on the switch to get the steam running. And it does, slowly. Though it feels silly to be undressing in here, I do. I take off my clothes leaving nothing but my panties on, and I wrap the towel around me, then sit down. The heat has been building slowly, and soon the room is misty with searing steam. I turn it down a little, because I don’t want to steam cook myself.
I bunch my hair high into a bun, and lean back against the wooden wall. I close my eyes as the heat swirls and heats my skin. It feels wonderful to finally have some time to myself.
Today has been pretty intense. Being around Eli always is, even when he’s not talking to me directly, even when he's minding his own business and sparring or training.
He can cold-shoulder me easily. I wish I could do the same thing back to him but this assignment doesn’t make that possible.
Right now though, I feel as if I’m in paradise. My body is loose, and the tension rolls away from my neck and shoulders.
The heat makes sweat trickle down my face, and my arms, and neck and shoulders. I get up and turn the dial down some more. Dots of moisture spring up all over my body. It's thick heat, but not suffocating, and it gives me the eerie sensation of being deep cleansed
I am sinking, and falling, and floating.
Chapter Twenty-Five
ELI
* * *
I should be tired. I should be, because it's been a long day of training.
I'm usually knocked out by now, but Lou changed up my routine, insisting that we go out to eat. I think he did that because he wanted to give Margrit a day off, but I can’t sleep because we ate later than I usually do and my routine is messed up. The food is still sitting in my stomach.
What sucks is that even though we went out to a nice place, I still ended up eating boring food—tuna and carbs, while the others dined out on dishes that made my mouth water. It was torture sitting in that small crowded place with the smell of garlic and butter floating in the air, and me knowing that I couldn’t have any of it.
It kills me. It really does, watching everyone else eating all that lovely food that I can only dream of.
I stayed an hour at the bar in the restaurant, but when Jake and Santos announced that they wanted to go drinking, I told them I was leaving. I reminded them that they're supposed to come running with me in the morning, but they laughed and told me I was a lightweight. They said it would only be for a couple of beers. But I wasn’t drinking, and I didn't want to stay out late. I should have jumped in with Lou when he drove back.
I got a cab bac
k alone, and left those two at the bar. They’re probably still there right now even though Lou gave them a warning. It doesn’t matter because they're not the ones who will step into the boxing ring opposite Garrison.
I will.
But I know what’s at stake and I’m the one who wants the belt. I persevere because the biggest prize I could ever hope for is waiting for me at the end. And when I bring that belt back to Chicago, I know it will have been worth every sacrifice.
I signed autographs and had my pictures taken with some of the customers. It kept me distracted from the aroma of the food, and Harper.
Something happened yesterday; something that changed the dynamic between us. I noticed she was ignoring me today. Doing her best not to sit anywhere near me; we ended up together in the SUV on the way there and she didn’t talk much.
Even at the restaurant, she sat in between Lou and Margrit, and then she left early. I would have expected her to stay late, get some more information out of me but she looked like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Which is odd, because this is the second time I’ve wanted her to stay. The first time was at Waquito’s. I think that was the night I had an inkling that I might like her.
I hate thinking about Harper, especially when I’m tossing and turning so much at night in bed trying to sleep.
My sleep hasn’t been that great for most of my life. I’m a light sleeper, and I often wake up for no reason. I tell myself there’s nothing wrong. I have no problem, nothing to worry about, but the truth is there are thoughts which bubble up at night and confront me.
Thoughts which make it hard for me to breathe.
Thoughts that turn me into a helpless child once more.
The only thing to do is to find something to occupy me until I’m tired, so I put on my sweatpants and T-shirt, check the pockets of my sweatpants for my earphones, and head downstairs.
I briefly consider watching a movie, but when I open the door to the movie theater room and see the foreboding rows of empty plush red seats, I change my mind.