by Ciz, Alley
It was true. Already she felt like she had been friends with them for years and not hours. The Coven was life, and she desperately wanted to be a part of it. To have a squad of her own, to know there were people to call on who wouldn't question. Kyle had been the only constant like that in her life, and for years even that had been from a distance.
“That’s not the point.” She slapped the counter, the sound ringing out in the room. “Vince keeps trying to get me to go on a date with him.” She spat the word date like a curse.
“I don’t see the problem here, Sweets,” Lyle said, coming around her workspace to pull her into a side hug. “Vince is sex-on-legs.” He sent a look of apology to his husband. “Sorry, babe.”
Kyle waved him off. “No worries. It’s true.”
“So…I don’t get the problem here, Sweets.”
She hung her head, letting out a sigh of defeat. “I need to figure out how to stand on my own. I’ve always been Holly Vanderbuilt, this is the first time in twenty-three years I’ve ever gotten to be”—she released a heavy sigh—“Holly.”
The two men nodded in understanding. They were the only ones who knew the details of her previous life.
They let the subject drop. With a kiss on the cheek, they retreated from the kitchen, allowing her to get lost in the task of creating her cookies for the next eight hours.
* * *
Training camp was a delicate balance of going full steam ahead while trying not burn out before the actual fight, especially when a fighter needed to cut weight to be eligible to fight in a particular weight class.
Monday through Friday, Vince trained hard. He dedicated a full day to each discipline in his repertoire—boxing, judo, Muay Thai, Brazilian jiujitsu and wrestling, as well as a day for cardio. Some of them overlapped as they used similar techniques, but thanks to both his father’s and uncle’s histories and his own background as a high school wrestler, he was one of the most diverse and well-rounded fighters in the league.
Saturday mornings had been for yoga for as long as he could remember. It originated with the Covenettes going, eventually growing by them bringing whichever of the guys they were able to talk into it until the law was laid down that the fighters had to practice as part of their training. Every Saturday morning, whoever was in town met at The Steele Maker for yoga class.
After a round of goodbyes that always seemed to take at least ten minutes, he headed for the sauna to shed a few pounds. Skirting the line of dehydration was a technique he could only apply on days he didn’t train.
Inside the locker room, he stripped down completely, wrapped himself in a towel and headed for the private sauna reserved for the full-time fighters of the gym. Since they didn’t officially train on the weekends, he would have the place to himself.
Scooping two ladles of water onto the hot stones, he settled back on the upper bench in the corner, spreading his knees and letting his head fall back to thunk against one of the cedar-lined walls of the room.
During camp, weekends were for recovery. First the yoga, now the sauna and on Sundays he had a session with a massage therapist.
He expanded his lungs fully, breathing in the thick, soupy air. Though the sauna used eucalyptus oil, the only scent he was able to detect was vanilla and sugar as Holly worked her way to the forefront of his brain.
She hadn't been far from his thoughts since the moment he laid eyes on her singing and dancing in the kitchen of Espresso Patronum. Recognition of his missing half hit him like a roundhouse kick to the heart less than a week ago. Had it really been less than a week? Fuck. I really am like one of Maddey’s goddamn books.
He wanted to shake off the thoughts, tell himself they were crazy, that there was no such thing as love at first sight. Sure, there was lust at first sight, which he one hundred percent felt for Holly, but deep down he knew it was more than that. Lust didn’t explain how he yearned to know everything about her. Her hopes, her dreams, what made her tick, and how she came to be here now, baking at Espresso Patronum.
There was something else though. Something she wasn’t telling him. It didn’t happen often, but every now and then he got a glimpse of shadows lurking behind her soulful eyes.
A lesser man might give up—especially given that she'd blown him off once already—but he literally fought for a living. He stepped inside a seven hundred and fifty square foot octagon to face down guys whose sole intention was to knock his ass out. A rocky past wasn’t anything that would have him running away or screaming for his mommy.
He was preparing for the most important fight of his entire career as a professional MMA fighter, but he had a feeling that fight would have nothing on what he would have to face to win her heart.
He had been hooked from only a few lingering kisses and some verbal sparring, but now that he knew what it was like to hold her in his arms while in the throes of passion, he was done. Knocked to the mat, count to ten, raise his opponent's arm, done.
He felt his dick stir underneath the soft terry cloth of his towel. Not surprising since his body reacted anytime he thought of Holly.
He'd jerked off to thoughts of her so many times over the past week it was a miracle his hand wasn’t blistered. But it wasn’t going to stop him from partaking in another self-love session to his tasty Cupcake.
He ran a hand over his abs to pull the knot of the towel loose. Peeling the terry cloth open, he let each end fall to the side while he spread his knees farther apart, slouching down more on the bench and getting comfortable.
Another deep inhale, followed by a forceful exhale. His hand wrapped around his dick at the base, stroking it from root to tip and back again as he thought of the way she shuddered against him when he kissed the soft spot behind her ear.
His palm glided across the pre-cum leaking from the tip, using both it and the sweat the steam room created to lubricate the up and down jerks.
A groan escaped as he remembered the way her legs squeezed him and how she rubbed herself against him when he had her pinned against the oven.
Up.
Down.
A twist of his wrist.
A flash of the way her eyes sparkled as she tried to tell him he wasn’t her type, when the entire time he could see the pebbled tips of her nipples giving her away.
He increased the pressure on his dick as his thoughts turned to the night before. She was so fucking responsive he could barely handle it. He wanted to learn all the ways he could get that pretty blush to spread across her chest.
Up, down.
Up, down.
His speed increased as last night played like a movie reel.
Each breathy sigh.
Each bit back moan.
The way his name sounded falling from her sweet lips as she tipped over the edge in ecstasy.
Faster and faster his hand moved until he exploded across his belly at the same time Holly came in his memory.
His chest heaved as he came down from his release. He’d only gotten the briefest sample of her sweet flavor and already he was addicted. He planned on devoting hours getting his fill between her legs once he got her naked and spread out beneath him. There was a chance he’d develop diabetes, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Chapter Eighteen
Vince spent the next few hours adulting, taking care of the tedious task of doing laundry and the even worse one of actually folding and putting it away. The struggle was real. The only saving grace was they had a washer and dryer inside the apartment, so he was able to kick back and watch the afternoon Lions game with Gage in between loads.
His brother-in-law was a cool dude. Vince liked to pride himself on being an integral part of Gage and Rocky getting together. Gage had almost let his own jealousy get in the way of being with her. It wasn’t until Vince had broken down the group’s history that Gage started to understand and move past his jealousy of Rocky's previous relationship with Jase.
Was it a little unconventional for people to remain friends—best friends, i
n fact—with their exes? Yeah maybe, but their crew was anything but normal.
“You feeling good about the fight?” Gage asked, keeping an eye on the hockey game.
“Yup,” he said while drinking Gemma’s protein shake. “I’ve seen O’Doyle fight throughout his career, and we all know Rocky has made me watch countless hours of film. I’ll keep doing what we’ve been doing…you know, me kicking your ass around the gym.”
Gage guffawed deep and loud. “In your dreams, pretty boy. I’ll give you this…we are the most evenly matched at the gym, but I can still take you. You can’t compete with these guns.” He flexed his left arm, making the octopus tattoo winding its way down to his wrist dance.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night. But don’t forget, old man, you’re getting up there in the age department.”
“You just wait. I’ll show you who’s old on Monday. You’re going to be crying for your mommy, or I guess your sister in this case.”
“Bring it on, James.”
Gage shrugged him off, cheering when his team scored a goal. A quick glance at the television showed the goal scorer was BTU alum Wade Tanner.
“Whatever, bro, it’s a win-win for me. Either I kick your ass and get bragging rights for the day. Or you get in some good shots, and Rocky kisses my boo-boos all better.” The smirk gracing Gage’s lips was the first clue Vince wouldn’t like what he said next. “And to be honest, I’m almost hoping for the latter because the things your sis—”
“Whoa!” He held up both hands. “Do. Not. Finish that sentence. I beg you.” He clasped his hands in front of his chest. “Rock and I are close, but not that close.”
Gage’s laughter followed him as he got ready for his date with Holly.
Becky whistled in approval when she caught sight of him dressed. “Where are you going all cleaned up?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Beck?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Yeah. I would. So spill. The Lions are on now, we have the Blizzards to watch later. So please, tell me where you are going that isn’t with us?” She circled her finger to include the full room. His roommates, sister, and the other full-time fighters were spread out around his apartment.
He was setting himself up for endless commentary, but there was no avoiding the truth. Holly was their roommate. Might as well get it over with.
“I’m taking Holly out on a date.”
“Whoa, bro, really?” Nick wore a look of shock.
“I thought you didn’t ‘date’ on account of your mom wanting to marry you off to the first nice girl you bring home?” Damon said.
“It’s a date, not a family dinner.” He suppressed a shudder at the thought of the infamous Steele family dinners. He was developing deep feelings for Holly—a fact that made no sense with how little he knew her—but family dinner was an entirely different weight class.
“Ummm.” Gemma chewed on the corner of her thumb the way she did whenever she was nervous or uncertain. “Does she know about the date?”
He was taken aback by the question. Of course Holly knew, he'd asked her the night before. Okay, so more like he told her instead of asking, but potato, vodka. It was all the same.
“Uh, yeah. Why would you ask that?”
“Well…you seem ready to go. And she’s still working?” Her inflection said the words she didn’t—duh, dumbass.
If that wasn’t a hit below the belt, he didn’t know what was. Whatever. He shook it off. It was a minor setback, he would just have to pick her up at Espresso Patronum, no big deal.
“Guess I’m picking her up.” He grabbed his keys and phone. “Don’t wait up, kids,” he called over his shoulder as he went to get his girl.
* * *
For hours and hours, Holly lost herself in the act of baking and decorating. She refused to look at the clock on the wall, not wanting to calculate how late she would have to stay before Vince wouldn’t be waiting to take her out.
Was it right to ghost him? Was it really ghosting or was she just standing him up? She wasn’t sure which term to use. She did know that neither was the right thing to do, but if she saw him, the resolve she was barely hanging on to would break.
It had been proven on three separate occasions that she was unable to resist the pull he had on her.
Complete avoidance was the only way to keep her distance—a feat to accomplish with him living across the freaking hall. She needed new friends because the matchmaking twins were clearly too blinded by the hearts in their eyes to appreciate her situation.
“You know…it’s a good thing I have a healthy ego, otherwise I might start to get a complex with how much you’re trying to avoid going on a date with me, Cupcake.”
She closed her eyes as his deep voice washed over her. She wanted to say she was surprised he showed up, but deep down a part of her was expecting him.
She took a moment to steel herself. He was more tempting to her than cookies were to Santa.
With another deep breath, she turned to the doorway, gripping the counter behind her in an attempt to prevent herself from walking to him.
Damn, he looked good. The messy way his hair was styled made her wonder if that’s what it would look like after a night spent running her hands through it in bed. Shit, Hol. Do not think about sex with him.
She couldn’t help but appreciate the way the waffle weave of his henley hugged the bulges of muscles under it, or the way his forearm porn-worthy arms looked with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. She could see the colorful ink decorating his right arm, but was too far away to make out the details.
As she continued her inspection of his body, her gaze lingered on the bulge behind his zipper, the one she knew was like one of those giant candy canes filled with Hershey’s Kisses, having had it ground against her in only a pair of loose sweatpants last night. And don’t even get her started on how his thighs filled out the denim encasing them.
Fuck a duck, she didn’t stand a chance.
“I—” Her voice cracked, so she stopped to clear her throat before trying again. “I told you. I can’t go out with you. It’s not the right time for me.”
VINCE WATCHED HOLLY from his spot leaning against the doorjamb. He honestly couldn’t think of anything cuter than the sight of her bopping around to Christmas music as she baked. Not even the annoyance of her trying to avoid him could detract from how enchanting she was to watch in her element.
As she blew him off for the second time in as many days, he was able to read all the things she didn’t say lurking in her eyes—fear.
He’d worked with enough women in the self-defense classes to spot a woman who was spooked. And Holly fit the mold to a T. What was she afraid of?
“I hear the words you’re saying…I really do,” he said, asking himself if he should crowd her or not. If he was to have a shot with her, she needed to be comfortable around him. Carefully he closed the distance between them.
“But there’s something you’re not getting when it comes to us.” His finger hooked under her chin to tilt her head back enough to see her eyes. “And it’s kinda a biggie.”
She visibly swallowed but leaned into his touch.
“Wh-What’s that?”
The golds and browns in her eyes swirled with emotion as she met his stare, a piece of him breaking at all the things they said that her words didn’t. Someone had hurt her, and when he found out who and how, they were dead.
“You and me, Cupcake.” His other hand came up to stroke a finger across her cheek before cupping it. “We’re inevitable.”
She stilled at his words. She stopped breathing, and he was pretty sure if she could do it, her heart probably would have stopped beating as well, that’s how still she went.
“You know it. I know it. All you have to do is stop denying it and let me in.” He gently touched her head, then rested his hand over her heart. “I’m not the only one who feels it.”
Her heartbeat pounded under his palm. She cupped her hand over his.
; “But I’m a patient guy. I can wait for you to be ready.” He bent to her ear. “Just know I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
“Vince—”
“Tomorrow,” he cut off the objection before she could voice it.
“What about tomorrow?” She stepped away from his touch, but let her soft hand trail off his slowly. “I’m not going to change my mind about the date overnight.”
“We’ll circle back to that.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda cocky?”
“Daily.” Her eyes moved to his dimple. “Still doesn’t change the fact that we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow.”
“We live across the hall from each other, of course we’ll see each other. But I’m still not going to go on a date with you.”
“We’ll work our way up to that.” He crossed his arms to keep from reaching for her. “Which brings us back to tomorrow.”
She arched a brow, remaining silent.
He dropped a kiss to his favorite spot behind her ear then walked from the room without looking back.
She had no idea what was coming for her.
He was like a dog with a bone. When he wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. It was one of the reasons he was fighting for the title belt next month.
But as hungry as he was to be the next light heavyweight champ, it had nothing on the craving he had for her.
Chapter Nineteen
Holly woke up stressed.
Drank her coffee stressed.
Ate breakfast—you guessed it—stressed.
Each time the apartment door opened she tensed.
Vince hadn’t given her any details. All he said was tomorrow and, well, it was tomorrow.
He'd relented on the date issue, but other than that she had no idea what to expect.
“Go get dressed,” Becky said, startling her.
“Dressed?”
“Yup. Wear something to work out in. We leave in five.” She pulled two reusable water bottles from a cabinet.