Until You're Mine (Fighting for Her)

by Cindi Madsen

  Just two little weeks.

  I fought the urge to look over my shoulder at the beach, because then I might go and think of two weeks as fourteen days with a lot of path crossing, and how difficult it was going to be to keep my distance from Shane Knox for that long.

  Instead, I stared into the cresting waves, gave my best attempt at being all Zen, and repeated my new mantra. Two more weeks. I can totally make it that long…

  …

  The next day, as I was strolling by the entrance of the locker room, I noticed the mostly empty shelf where the clean towels went. I still thought we should cut out the damn towels, but several of the guys stopped by my desk this week to tell me they loved how much better the towels felt since I’d shown up. Amazing what a lid-full of Downy could do.

  Their appreciation helped take away some of my resentment over the job, even though I still dragged my feet over having to gather up the dirty towels.

  “Hello? Anyone in here?” It’d been a crazy day, with a lot of people in and out. Not to mention I’d completely engrossed myself in work to avoid seeing or thinking about a certain guy. We hadn’t talked since the beach, and I dreaded the next time our paths crossed as much as I anticipated it. Clearly I had issues.

  Two steps from the laundry hamper and Shane stepped out from the showers, wearing only a towel. His dark hair was damp and beads of water dotted his skin. Several of the droplets ran down the grooves of his pecs and abs and that V that lead right down to—

  “What are you doing?” I asked when I noticed his purposeful stride and the fact that it was aimed right at me.

  “Paying you back for that stunt on the beach. All that torturous rubbing of sunscreen on your skin. And then there was the way you walked out of the water, all dripping wet. Kind of like I am now.”

  I lifted my chin, attempting to hide the fact that my heart rate had tripled in the last ten seconds. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just putting on sunscreen.” Maybe I wasn’t totally innocent with the sunscreen, but there wasn’t another way to walk out of the ocean besides dripping wet.

  “And I’m just talking to you after my steamy shower.” He toyed with the top of the towel, and I volleyed between hoping it’d come undone and hoping it wouldn’t. His eyes locked on to mine. “Where I thought about you.”

  Every ounce of oxygen whooshed out of my lungs.

  “How’s your focus, bruiser?” he asked, his deep voice an intoxicating combination of tantalizing and taunting. “Do you remember what you came in here for?”

  It took a couple of seconds and a failed attempt to swallow as my brain searched for the answer. “Towels. I’m washing the towels.”

  “Did you need mine?” He reached for it, and I went to shake my head but ended up biting my lip instead. “Try to deny it all you want. I can see your rapid pulse beating right here at the base of your neck.” His fingers brushed the spot and it quickened even more. “I can hear that hitch in your breath, and your pupils are dilated.”

  No shit. I was this close to having a heart attack, and if it meant a little while longer of staring at him, I might risk it.

  Wait. Those aren’t the thoughts I’m supposed to be having.

  “This…” I took a step back but met the hard resistance of the wall. “You… I…” Since words weren’t cooperating, I abandoned trying.

  He braced one hand against the wall, right next to my head, and every glistening muscle in his arm stood out. I wanted to pull him close and taste his clean skin, and I wanted those arms around me. “Now,” he said, his voice sending goose bumps over my skin. “I’d definitely kiss you now.” He leaned close enough for me to feel the steamy warmth wafting off his body. My chest bumped his as my breathing kicked into high gear. “And I wouldn’t stop with your mouth.”

  With that, he pushed off the wall and disappeared around the line of lockers.

  As soon as I regained control of my shaky limbs, I rushed out of the room, leaving the towels—as well as part of my sanity—behind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shane

  I’d spent yesterday with my boys, hoping that would pull me out of the funk I’d been in for most of last week. I thought I’d covered it up well, but right before I’d left Hector’s last night, he asked if the stress of returning to the cage was getting to me.

  I’d told him no, that I was beyond ready to get my career back on track, which was true. Then, in the way true friends did, he asked me what crawled up my ass and died. I’d hesitated, not wanting to go into it because it meant having to say her name, and I was already going out of my mind wondering if she was spending the weekend with her boyfriend. Kissing him, fucking him—basically all things that I didn’t want to think about. But I’d met Hector when I’d first moved to San Diego, and he was one of the few guys who’d stuck with me through all the ups and downs. He was there through my quick rise to fame, and there when I crashed back down to being a nobody. “This girl…”

  Understanding had smoothed his features. “Ah. Lady troubles.”

  I’d raked a hand through my hair. “I can’t get her out of my head. She’s a bad idea on so many levels that it almost seems like a cruel joke, but I don’t give a shit. I want her like I’ve never wanted any woman before.”

  Thanks to my messed-up priorities, I’d decided to come to the gym as late as possible Monday evening instead of getting my workout in early, the way I preferred. That way, my path wouldn’t cross Brooklyn’s quite as much. Then I wouldn’t do something stupid, like say, lose my mind and corner her in the locker room, my control one thread from snapping with her lips so close to mine.

  As much as I craved seeing her and hearing her voice, I didn’t need an extra form of torture on top of my training, and for the sake of getting a good, focused workout in, I hoped she’d already gone home for the day.

  When I stepped into the gym, I didn’t see a single soul. The bags hung in place, the large caged area and raised octagon were empty, and the line of treadmills and weight machines was equally as empty. It was a regular jock ghost town.

  Good, I’ll have the place to myself, no one distracting me, and no one barking orders and hitting me for getting distracted. It was weird they’d left the gym unlocked, but one of the guys might’ve gone to grab food at a nearby shop or something like that.

  As I strode past the front desk, though, I spotted a blond head resting on it. Did they really leave her here all alone? I glanced into the office and even called out, but no one answered. Brooklyn insisted she could take care of herself, but I didn’t like that her brothers and dad were so unbothered about leaving her alone in the gym at night. Anyone could’ve come in off the street.

  I rounded the half wall, planning on shaking her awake, but she looked so peaceful, and if she was exhausted enough to fall asleep half sitting, on a hard surface like that, she needed the rest. Blake had a couch in his office, and that was at least a more comfortable option. I’d wake her after my workout.

  I tossed my bag aside and then slid an arm around her shoulders and one under her knees.

  Her eyes fluttered open.

  “I’m just moving you to the couch,” I said softly.

  She fought to open her eyes. “I…there’s a load of towels in the washer and I…” She yawned. “I’ll change them over real quick and…” Her lids drooped again.

  I carried her into Blake’s office and laid her down on the couch.

  “No, I gotta…laundry, so I can go home.”

  “I’ll take care of the towels,” I whispered, and I couldn’t help running my fingertips across the soft skin of her cheek and jaw. “Just get some sleep for now.”

  “Okay, like, ten minutes,” she said, snuggling deeper into the cushions of the couch. I’d never been jealous of furniture before, but here we were.

  I walked back to the washer and dryer and switched over the laundry. I checked on Brooklyn, who was sleeping soundly, then stepped onto a treadmill. I programmed high-intervals for fou
r miles, and once I’d run those, I worked the bag. First punches then kicks, then combos.

  As hard as I pushed my body, I couldn’t shake the antsy sensation crawling through me. Brooklyn was only a room away, and after a few awesome interactions, followed by a few frustrating ones, I missed her.

  How could I miss her?

  How could I let this opportunity to talk to her—the real, unguarded version of her—pass me by?

  Because you’re standing here asking that fucking question instead of doing your training. Instead of thinking of the next fight…

  With that thought in mind, I forced myself to do five more minutes of combos, punches, and kicks, and then I hit the locker room. And when I stepped into the shower, I made it a nice and cold one.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brooklyn

  I awoke to gentle shaking, and when my dad’s office blinked into view, I realized my dream about Shane carrying me wasn’t a dream. He was looking down at me, more tenderly than I deserved for sure.

  “Do you need me to drive you home? I’m worried you’re too tired—or possibly just too stubborn—to hold on to me, so instead of taking my motorcycle, we’ll take your car. Then I can hail a cab back to grab my bike. Or deal with it tomorrow.”

  I sat up, tucking my knees to my chest. “I’m okay.”

  He nodded. “Well, you know the drill. I’m not leaving until you do.”

  I didn’t want him to leave. For the past few days I’d tried to get him out of my head—for the past week, really, if I went and got all technical about it. That moment in the locker room played on a loop, and depending on the minute, I alternated between annoyed and turned-on. Sometimes the two weren’t as distinct as I’d like them to be.

  “I checked on the towels, by the way,” he said. “They’re dry and the folding can easily be put off till tomorrow. If anyone complains, just send ’em my way.”

  My fingers twitched with the desire to take hold of his hand and give it a quick squeeze, so I curled them into my palm. “Thank you for that.” I meant it, but it came out so mechanical and unlike the way he and I used to talk.

  Not that we’d known each other long enough for all that “used to” business. Still, I couldn’t help but add, “I was going to get them done on Saturday, but someone distracted me, so I had to do three loads today to make up for it.”

  He brushed his fingers over the top of my sandaled foot, feather light, yet I felt it down to my bones. “Someone tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome?”

  I shot him a look. “The tall and dark part is right, but I’d go with cockiness as the attribute that stands out most.”

  He cracked a smile, and the walls I’d thrown up cracked along with it. “Cocky, huh?” he repeated and nodded. “One, if I didn’t think I’d win every fight, I’d get annihilated in the cage, which I’m sure you realize. Two, I’m just that good…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Are you done, or is there a three?”

  “Three, do you know how easily I could twist that into something dirty?”

  “I have no doubt.”

  His large callused hand wrapped around my ankle and he dragged his thumb over my shin. Electricity danced across my skin, perking up every one of my nerve-endings. “Are we friends-ish again?”

  I licked my lips. “You still want to be friends-ish with me?”

  “I’ll settle for that.” He started to withdraw his hand, and I caught it.

  “It’s not that I don’t… There are things that…” I blew out my breath, but it didn’t miraculously untangle my mess of conflicting emotions. “I’ve just been burned really badly before, and while right now it almost seems like…” I shook my head. I had a boyfriend, so I shouldn’t even be thinking about our combustible chemistry and the persistent connection that whispered we could be great together, much less saying it.

  Facts. I need to focus on cold, hard facts. “Once you get back out there on the fighting circuit, you’ll start climbing through the ranks, traveling all the time, and this thing between us will be rearview-mirror stuff. A time we can reflect on and smile, and say wow, I’m glad we were friends-ish during that crazy summer. If we crossed lines, that wouldn’t happen, so it’s better this way. For both of us.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue, and I forced myself to stay firm.

  “I have to live in the real world, Shane. So I’m just going to finish off my two-and-a-half month stint here and then go back to my real life.”

  His eyebrows drew together, and I took advantage of the chance to repay him for the times he’d called me out.

  “Now you’re doing the crinkle thing.” I smoothed it out with my thumb, and his breath skated across my wrist. I didn’t realize how intimate it’d feel, and it took me too many seconds to pull away.

  “You’re leaving in two and a half months?”

  “Just two now. Then I’ll move back to San Francisco.”

  “To be with your boyfriend,” he grit out. “That explains why he’s never around.”

  “To take the incredible internship I was super lucky to land at a gallery that displays the kind of art I love, and yes, my boyfriend lives there as well. We’re doing the long-distance thing while I’m here, and honestly, it sucks and it’s harder than I thought it would be”—which was something I shouldn’t have admitted out loud—“but he’s coming for a visit soon—not this weekend but the next—so if you really want to meet him…”

  Talk about a disaster. I wanted to take it back without actually having to, so I plowed on through. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry things have been shitty between us, and I know I’m not dealing with everything as well as I should be. For what it’s worth, you’re pretty impossible to ignore, and I’ve been crabbier than usual, since all I do now is work with a side of more work.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty crabby.”

  I smacked his arm but couldn’t suppress my laughter, and I didn’t want to—I wanted to get back to the lighter stuff. I’d missed this. Missed him, even if it seemed silly to miss someone I’d barely known for two weeks, half of which we’d been more on the outs than the ins.

  His green eyes met mine. “I’m not saying I don’t understand your points about our situation. I’ve thought some of them myself. I am committed to getting back on the fighting circuit and doing whatever it takes to climb through the ranks. Right now, more than anything, I need to keep my focus. Both fighting and flirting with you tend to distract me from what I should be concentrating on.”

  I nodded, telling myself it was a good thing, even as my gut sank. “Exactly.”

  “But I’ve also noticed my concentration is the shittiest when we go the avoiding and ignoring route—it just takes so much fucking effort.”

  “And both of us are failing anyway,” I added.

  “Right. So how about we stop doing that, and try this friends-ish thing you mentioned.” He made a sour face like he couldn’t believe those words had actually come from his lips—lips that I totally wasn’t staring at, for the record. “And we’ll take the rest a day at a time. Sound good?”

  I didn’t know if it sounded quite as firm as what I’d been trying to convey, but I figured if we waited for us to both completely agree on everything we’d be here all night. “I say game on.”

  “Good. Now that that’s settled…” He stood and extended a hand, and I slapped my palm in his and let him pull me to my feet. Once I’d double-checked the front door was locked and turned off all the lights, we pushed out the back exit.

  I hesitated by Shane’s motorcycle, not wanting our time together to end, even as I knew that was all the more reason to get in my car and drive away.

  “Give me your phone,” he said.

  “As a friend, I’m telling you that you need to work on words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ I can even teach you how to ask a question instead of barking orders. It’s pretty amazing once you get the hang of it.”

  “Brooklyn, will you please give me your damn phon
e? I want you to have my number in case you need me.”

  “You’re almost always at the gym, and so am I.” My heart beat faster, which was ridiculous. What did him having my number change?

  The fingers on his extended hand gestured for my phone.

  “Fine.” I opened up my contacts and placed my cell in his palm, sure I was going to regret it. Or more like I was sure that he’d call and I’d like it too much, which would lead to guilt and then regret.

  “I’m taking the liberty of texting myself, just in case you’re too stubborn to call me first.” He finished typing and handed my phone back to me, the text sent to his number still onscreen.

  Me: Hey, sexy beast. Here’s my number. Xoxo

  I shook my head. “Sometimes I worry your humility is going to be your downfall.”

  Shane guided me over to my car with a firm hand on my back. “Also, you and I are going to squeeze in a workout together tomorrow night. I know you want to, so don’t try to deny it.”

  He had me there. It was semi-torturous watching everyone punching and kicking while I typed away on my computer, filling in numbers and data that made me cross-eyed and tired enough to fall asleep at my desk. But I wasn’t going to admit that, so I sighed like he was exhausting.

  He, in turn, grinned like he had an inside track to my thoughts. The stress that’d weighed me down for the past few days lifted, the world tilting back on its proper axis. He opened my car door and, once I was seated, looked down at me, the streetlight sending stripes of light across his features. “See you tomorrow, bruiser.”

  “See you tomorrow.” I flashed him a smile, pried my car door out of his hands, and pulled it closed. Man, it was good to be friends-ish again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brooklyn

  I knocked on Dad’s open office door and stepped inside. He and Liam were talking about an upcoming fight and which spots to fill. Good. Liam’s already here.

  I hoped he’d be on my side, but maybe that was overly optimistic. “I need to talk to you guys about the budget and some ideas I have to fix it.”