The Cruel World
Page 4
A fight has just ended, so I jump into the ring before anybody else can. I want to fight somebody, and I know exactly who I want to fight.
The crowd goes silent when I step into the ring—the girl with the dress. A few people cheer, maybe remembering me from being here twice before.
Never underestimate a woman scorned.
West, who is still kissing the redhead, opens his eyes and looks toward the stage. His eyes widen and he pulls back from the girl when he sees me standing there. With one finger, I motion him to join me. He shakes his head, which the crowd catches, and they boo him.
I learned the rule of Fight Club the first night I was here—if you’re challenged you have to answer the call.
West won’t fight me any other way, but he’s about to fight me now, whether he wants to or not.
Eventually he does make his way to the ring, his face is red with anger by the time he gets up there and he in clenching his jaw.
“You’re not fighting me. Back out right now, Roxy. That is an order,” West seethes.
I just grin, shaking my head.
He’s serious because he called me Roxy and not Princess.
But me? I’m not in the mood to back down. If anything, him wanting me to back down only makes me want to fight him that much more. I don’t even care if I’ll be punished tomorrow for defying him. There is no way I am backing down now.
“What’s the matter, West? Scared you’ll lose to a girl in a dress?” I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.
A few people close to the stage must’ve heard me because they laugh.
West steps closer, nearly putting his forehead against mine. “No, I’m not scared to lose. I’m scared to hurt you. Why do you think we never fight together during training? I could crush you. Don’t you get that Princess?”
I just grin. “Don’t hold back. I can take you.”
He blows out a long breath, shaking his head.
He knows he’s lost. With the crowd watching, he can’t back down. After all, those are the rules of Fight Club.
I’m so going to be in trouble when we get home.
West steps back, getting into position. I can see the worry etched into his face, which makes me pause. Maybe he really is worried about hurting me, which warms my heart. Then I remember the brunette from last night and the redhead from tonight and all warmth is gone, replaced with rage.
I advance on him with those two girls in mind. Not just them, but the blonde he brought home when I first joined their team. He brought her home just to shock me. He wanted to scare me into leaving. I wonder what his excuse for the other two girls are. Not that he needs an excuse. He’s not anything to me, just my team leader.
Pushing the thoughts from my mind, I move forward to strike. He easily blocks both of my punches and twists me around, pinning me against him.
“Admit defeat, Princess,” West growls into my ear.
“Why? So you can go back to kissing that girl?” I ask.
At my question, he does loosen his grip on me—his mistake. I take the distraction to pull myself away, swinging a punch at him. He barely blocks it in time.
The anger is gone from his face, replaced by something that I can’t quite read. Not until he smirks.
“Wish it were you, Princess?” West raises an eyebrow, getting cocky.
Wondering just how much I can distract him, I decide to answer in a way he won’t expect.
“Yes,” I lie.
Well… it’s not completely a lie.
West’s jaw drops open and I advance again, this time my fist connects with his stupidly beautiful jaw. His head snaps back, surprise on his face. He didn’t expect me to get in a hit.
I thrive on that one punch, knowing it’s probably the only one I’m going to get.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Princess.” West’s dark blue eyes sparkle as he moves closer to me. I back away, knowing that I won’t be able to distract him again. It doesn’t stop me from trying.
“You didn’t run your fingers through her hair like you did mine.” I block his punch. “Tell me, is she a better kisser than me?”
That causes West to pause his attack, but it only fuels my anger.
I wish West never would have kissed me. If he hadn’t, I would have no reason to be jealous.
I advance on him, putting my all into the attack. Somehow, I end up knocking West over, but I go with him. He looks up at me, completely stunned that he’s on the ground, but he doesn’t move to take back the lead. He’s just… letting me win.
When the bell rings, alerting that the fight is over, I am completely stunned.
West pushes himself up, holding out a hand to help me up. I accept it, wondering what is going to happen now. He doesn’t let go of my hand, he just pulls me from the ring and toward the exit of the building.
I tense up, wondering how bad this is going to be.
West is going to kill me.
What happens at Fight Club stays at Fight Club.
West doesn’t stop until we reach the Jeep. When we get there, he looks at me for a moment, then rubs his hands over his face. Part of me wants to taunt him because I won, but we both know I only won because he let me. I should be offended that he didn’t try harder to beat me, but I’m not mad about that. I’m too busy being mad at him for kissing that girl.
I can’t be jealous over West Newman. I just can’t.
I groan, covering my face with my hands.
This is a disaster.
West tugs at my hands, so I look at him.
“I could’ve hurt you.” His voice is firm, but I can see the concern in his eyes. He really was worried about harming me, which should be offensive, but I find it sweet.
“But you didn’t,” I point out.
He huffs. “You know you’re in a lot of trouble, right?”
I nod. “Totally worth it. Because I, Roxy Villareal, totally kicked West Newman’s butt. Aren’t you, like, a legend here?”
“You only won because I let you.” He raises an eyebrow, daring me to argue.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Fine. Let’s fight for real and see who wins.”
He takes a step closer to me. Feeling uncomfortable, I step back, wanting space. My back hits the Jeep and West takes another step and then another. He’s so close that I can feel the warmth from his body.
I shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him right now but kissing him is all I can think about.
“You seemed jealous tonight,” West says.
His words feel like ice cold water being poured over my body.
I tense up. “I wasn’t. That girl can have you. All those girls can.”
The corners of his mouth tip upward. “That’s it, isn’t it? You wish it were you that I was kissing.”
“As if.” I roll my eyes.
West reaches a hand up, gently grazing the side of my face with his thumb. Instinctually, I lean into his touch, sighing. I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of his warm fingers against me.
Abruptly, he jerks his hand away. “You are jealous.”
I shake my head. “Why would I be jealous? I don’t even like you.”
“You might not like me, but your body does.” He smirks.
I wish I could step away from him. Having him this close makes my brain fuzzy.
West is right—I am jealous. I’m so jealous. But I can’t admit it out loud. I don’t want West to know what I’m feeling, even though he most likely already knows. I don’t have a good poker face—I couldn’t pretend right now, even if I wanted to.
“You only kissed her because you wanted to make me jealous,” I counter.
He steps back.
Finally.
“Why would I want to make you jealous, Princess? I don’t like you either.”
His comment stings. I can’t help but flinch.
Still, I won’t back down. Not from this. I walk around to the other side of him, so he can’t back me against the Jeep again.
“Maybe you d
on’t like me, but you’re attracted to me,” I say.
He shakes his head dismissively. “You’re not my type.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Really? Is that why you kissed me that day in my room?”
He opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. He just looks down at me with wide eyes.
I take a step closer to him. This time, it’s me backing him against the Jeep.
“Admit it, West. You’re attracted to me and it eats you up because you know you can’t have me. Those other girls are just a distraction from how you really feel.”
His jaw ticks as he grabs onto my shoulders and spins us around. He presses me against the Jeep.
“Who says I can’t have you, Princess?” he asks.
Before I can respond, he bends over, kissing me hard and fast. My head spins as his lips move against mine. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I know that I should push him away, but I ignore it. As much as I hate to admit it, I want this kiss.
I think about the first kiss that West and I shared way too often. It still gives me butterflies to think about it. But that kiss? It has nothing on this one.
I stand on the tips of my toes, trying to make it easier for him to reach me. I bury my fingers in his hair, needing something to hold onto. If it weren’t for West’s hands around my waist and my back against the Jeep, I wouldn’t be able to stand. My legs feel like noodles.
West slips his tongue into my mouth and he massages my tongue with his. And I try to pull away, I really, really do, but my body doesn’t listen and instead sinks further into him.
My heart races and my stomach twists. This feeling is something I only get during a rush of danger—after I jump from an airplane or when I’m taking down a bad guy. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about West Newman of all people, but I can’t help it. No matter how hard I try to not have feelings for him, I can’t help it. He makes me crazy in the best way possible.
West pulls away first, but he doesn’t pull far away. He rests his forehead against mine, breathing heavy. I close my eyes, just enjoying the moment that I know will be over too soon.
“Those girls have nothing on you.” West whispers the words as he holds onto me.
My heart races even faster.
No matter how hard I try to not have these intense feelings for him, I can’t help it.
Out of all the guys on the team, why do I have to have these feelings for West? Literally any guy would be better—Ian, Kal, even Alek. But no. I had to have feelings for the one guy who drives me completely crazy.
West leans forward again, pressing one more kiss against my lips before he pulls away. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks away, toward the warehouse.
“We should get back,” he says softly.
I nod, knowing he’s right, but I’m not ready to leave. I want to stay here in this moment forever. Here, I can forget that West and I can’t be together. I can forget that he’s my team leader and that us together would be an impossibility.
West opens the passenger side door of the Jeep, motioning for me to get inside. Before I climb in, he gently grabs my hand to stop me.
“Princess, you know that—”
I cut him off. “I know. What happens at Fight Club stays at Fight Club.”
He nods once. “I’m sorry, but it has to be that way.”
I don’t respond. I just climb into the Jeep, letting him shut it behind me.
Why did I let him kiss me?
But then I remember the kiss, and how it felt to have him hold me the way he did. I can’t bring myself to regret it. That kiss is going to have to be enough to get me by for a while.
West gets in the driver’s side and wordlessly starts the Jeep.
“Hey, West?” I say.
“Hmm?”
“Can we call a truce?” I push a piece of hair behind my ear, glancing over at him. “I’m really tired of fighting.”
He smirks. “As long as you don’t think us kissing is how we call a truce in the future. We can’t make out every time we fight.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, West. You’re not that great a kisser. You’re mediocre, at best.”
He chuckles. “Your red cheeks tell me something different.”
Keeping my mouth shut, I turn my attention to the road.
West clears his throat. “Uh, Princess, can you promise to keep that between you and me? The guys and I have this rule—”
“It’s a stupid rule.” I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him.
“Still, it’s a rule. Besides, the guys would be jealous if they knew I kissed you again.” He glances over at me. “I know I’m not the only one you’ve kissed.”
My cheeks grow warm as I think about the brief kiss that Kal and I shared. And since Alek saw Kal and I kissing, he felt like he was owed a kiss too—stupid Russian. And while the kiss Alek and I shared was very toe curling, nothing more has come of it.
And Kal…
Neither of us has brought up that kiss. He confessed that he has feelings for me, but that was it. I don’t know if he still feels the same way now.
“You don’t have room to talk, West. You had your tongue down some other girl’s throat earlier tonight.”
He laughs. “I told you that you were jealous.”
Uh.
Stupid boy.
Why do I let West get to me like this? He’s just proven his point.
“Maybe when we get home tonight, I should just make out with Alek then, huh?”
He stops laughing and his knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel tightly. “Do whatever you want, Princess. But you and I both know I kissed you first.”
“Clearly a momentary lapse in judgment.”
He lets out a breath. “Just don’t kiss anybody because you’re mad at me. You deserve a good guy. Me? I’m not good enough for you. Neither is Alek.”
I have no idea how to respond to that, so I keep my lips pressed tightly together.
West Newman is so confusing.
Monday, December 4
No way.
I expected West to punish me this morning. I think maybe he’ll make me run while everybody else trains, or maybe he’ll force me to run a marathon, but he hasn’t mentioned anymore about my punishment since last night.
Maybe he’s forgotten. I hope he’s forgotten.
Or maybe…
Maybe he’s not going to punish me for defying him because he broke a rule too. Maybe him forgiving me makes him feel better for breaking his own rule… again.
As we head out for our morning run—this time at our normal five am time—I run into somebody on the balcony as I walk out the front door.
“Sorry,” I mumble, taking a step back quickly.
Normally, there isn’t anybody out here. Like, the entire time we’ve lived here, I haven’t seen anybody else on the seventh floor. I’ve seen a few in the parking lot, by the pool, or even in the elevator, but never anybody on our floor. I was beginning to think our floor was empty. Then again, maybe the agents who live on our floor were off on assignments.
Until now.
I look up at the person that I ran into. And I do mean up. This guy is tall. Not quite as tall as Alek and West, but almost. By looking at him, I wouldn’t say he was that much older than us, maybe twenty or twenty-one. He has on workout gear, like he’s going out for his morning run too, and he has a five o’clock shadow. The guy is good looking, like most Spy School agents. And then he grins at me and his entire face lights up. It’s then I realize he’s not just ‘good looking.’ This guy is gorgeous.
He’s got dark, shaggy brown hair and onyx eyes.
Kal wipes at my chin. “You’ve got a little drool.”
I shove his hand away, my cheeks growing warm.
Yeah, okay, I didn’t mean to stare at the man, but he’s staring too.
“Cole, what are you doing at my condo?” West crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the guy I was just checking out.
C
ole is his name?
Wait, West knows him?
“West, hey man. Long time no see.” Cole’s grin widens as he looks at West.
Huh.
Maybe they’re friends.
But with the way West is glaring…
Cole’s eyes glance over at me again. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you.” He holds out a hand.
“Roxy Villareal.” I look at his hand, not making a move to shake it. I have to have loyalty to my team, after all. I won’t shake his hand unless West and the guys actually are friends with him.
Cole’s eyes widen. “Villareal?”
“She isn’t important to you.” West steps between me and Cole.
Cole snickers, stepping to the left where he can see me again. “Sorry. Didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”
I scoff at that. “Ew, not his girlfriend.”
West turns his glare on me.
“What?” I ask innocently. “I’m just saying…” I look at Cole. “I’m very single.”
Maybe I say that just to make West mad. I can’t help myself. He wants to pretend like our kiss last night didn’t happen. I’m merely going along with what he requested.
I hear the door open to the condo next door and two more boys walk out and join Cole. One of them is shirtless and as hard as I try not to count his abs, I still note that he has eight.
I swallow hard.
What beautiful boys. Boys? No, scratch that. They’re men. Good looking men. And they’re my neighbors—how lucky am I?
Kal nudges me with his shoulder. I look back at him and he wipes at his chin—his way of telling me I’m drooling over these boys. Not literally, but figuratively.
“This is Jensen.” Cole points at the boy with sandy brown hair first. “And Rook.” Last, he points to the boy with blond hair.
Jensen crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at my team. His eyes harden right away when he sees West—I can’t blame him for that. I, of all people, know how hard West is to get along with. Clearly this boy agrees. But his honey brown eyes soften a bit as they land on me.