Falling for Tyson

by Erica Breyer

  “Cassie, darling,” her friend interjected, “I wish I could drum this into your head, but you resist at every turn. You know, you’re ‘next level’ too, right?”

  Cassie pulled a face. She ran a hand down Nat’s upper arm affectionately to soften her expression.

  “I’m serious, Cass,” Nat went on. “You’re gorgeous.” Her voice grew firmer as she felt Cassie pulling away. “You don’t get it because you’re so convinced that beauty is about dress-size, but honestly, darling, you ooze sexuality. I’ve envied you since we’ve been friends…men go weak at the knees when you walk into a room.”

  “Nat! You’re talking such crap!” Cassie tried to object. Her friend cut her off.

  “You carry a lot of baggage around with you, darling, but I hope that one day you’ll let someone in for long enough to show you how special you are. The sooner you stop wasting time on jerks like Colin, the sooner you’ll find someone who can show you that you’re a treasure.” Nat’s face was earnest, and Cassie swallowed hard. She wasn’t wired to hear these things. She scrambled to change the subject.

  “Ugh! I’m harping on about this nonsensical stuff…it’s ridiculous! There are more important things to discuss. Like a certain security analyst who looks flipping fantastic in swim shorts.” She winked at her friend. Natalie wanted to continue the conversation but couldn’t fight back her grin.

  “Yeah, Andy’s incredible,” Nat gushed, biting into another olive. Cassie always insisted on three green olives. For nutritional purposes, she joked.

  “And…?” Cassie pressed, pushing aside her preoccupation with her coach and focusing on her friend. Natalie grinned and shrugged.

  “I like him a lot, Cass,” she smiled. It was unusual for her to address Cassie by her name. Everyone was always ‘sweetie’ or ‘darling’. This was serious. Cassie put a hand over her friend’s fingers.

  “I’m so glad, my friend,” she smiled. “You deserve this happiness.” Nat smiled back at her. Then they both glanced down as another pair of martini glasses slid across the bar counter to join their almost empty ones.

  “Did you order a round?” asked Nat. Cassie shook her head.

  “From the gents in the corner,” the bartender said, turning his head to the side. Both women swiveled in the direction he was indicating. A group of men was smiling and waving.

  ‘Shit!’ Cassie mouthed at Natalie, who shrugged and toasted the group with her fresh drink.

  “Don’t worry about it, darling,” her friend said. “Enjoy your drink. If they get funny about it, we can order a round for their table.” Cassie nodded.

  The evening unfolded in a way that encouraged a third martini, which was Cassie’s limit. She felt light-headed and asked for a jug of water. Nat had given a blow-by-blow breakdown of the events with Andy, at Cassie’s insistence, and she finally felt back in the loop.

  “Yo! Yo, ladies!” a voice broke into their conversation. A tall, good-looking guy was hovering between them. Cassie recognized him from the table who’d bought them drinks. She’d surreptitiously instructed the bartender not to accept any more freebies on their behalf. ‘I can buy my own damn martini!’ she’d thought.

  “Sooo…” he dragged the word out. “We saw you sitting here…all alone.”

  They weren’t alone. They were together. Her and Nat. Having a drink and catching up.

  “…And…yeah…we thought, maybe you’d like to join us?” Cassie had to give the guy credit for bravery. Neither she nor Nat could be described as approachable.

  “Thanks,” she said, her voice clipped. “We’re good.”

  The guy didn’t leave. Instead, he stepped in a little closer, draping one arm over the back of her barstool. Did he think she’d extended an invitation?

  “But…you look like maybe you need some company,” he pressed.

  “We have company,” Nat interjected, “we’re here together.”

  The guy’s eyes opened up a fraction of an inch. His mouth made an ‘oh’ shape. “Ohhh,” his voice carried the sound through. “I seeee…” He totally didn’t see, but Cassie wasn’t going to set him straight. He’d turned to the table of guys and was mouthing the word ‘Lesbians’ to them.

  ‘What the hell?’ Like that was an actual response from an evolved man? He wasn’t evolved. It didn’t take long to find out.

  “I get that, I get that,” he said smoothly, nodding at the bartender and trying to order them another drink. The man looked at Nat, who shook her head. No. “But maybe if you ladies joined us… Spent some time with some real—”

  Cassie was waiting for him to say, ‘Some real men’. As if gender preference hinged on being shown a better way.

  “Buddy, my friend and I are having a quiet evening together,” Nat said smoothly. She never called anyone ‘buddy’ unless they were in trouble. “We appreciate the drinks. How about I send a round to your table…” she nodded at the guys who were watching intently, “and we call it even?”

  The guy wasn’t biting. He didn’t need another round. He clearly already had a few too many under his belt. His hand slid from the back of Cassie’s chair to her shoulder, and she stiffened.

  “Naww…” he said. “Now, that isn’t right. Can’t leave you lovely ladies unattended…especially when you don’t know what a real man can do for you.” He’d finally said the words. Cassie felt her back teeth snap shut. She was going to shake him so hard his eyeballs would rattle. Nat shook her head, aware that her friend was losing her temper. The guy’s fingers clamped into the soft flesh of her shoulder, and she felt her blood boiling. Was it too soon to try out some of her new fighting skills? One session wasn’t much, but she could make up the balance in sheer rage—

  “Hey, Wallstreet,” a voice broke into the conversation. Nat looked over Cassie’s shoulder, and her mouth gaped. Warm fingers slid over Cassie’s back, peeling away the clammy clutch of her unwelcome admirer. A lightly bristled jaw brushed her cheek, and firm lips glanced over her mouth. She took a startled breath. ‘Oh, golly…gooseflesh!’ “All good here? I’m sorry I took so long.”

  The guy who’d been bothering them took a rapid step back…then two more…and another. He almost stumbled over he moved so fast.

  “Uh…hi…Ty,” she said, trying to mimic the familiarity of his greeting. “No, we’re good. Just chatting and…um…” She looked up at the guy. He was rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans as if he was afraid the lingering scent of her on his skin might just get him killed. It might. Tyson stepped up beside her and smiled at the poor bastard.

  It wasn’t really a smile. She imagined it was the look that a panther gave a wild hog shortly before removing its throat. The guy backpedaled so blindly he almost fell over a barstool behind him. He turned and bolted back to his table without saying another word. His companions were doubled over with laughter.

  “I really do think we should order them some drinks, darling,” Nat said smoothly, glancing at the bartender, who nodded. She extended a hand toward Tyson. Such a lady. He shook it and smiled. A real smile this time. If Nat didn’t have Andy in her world, her panties would have burst into flames.

  “I’m Nat,” her friend said, coolly, as if she met men like Tyson every day. ‘Nobody met men like Tyson any day,’ thought Cassie. “You must be Tyson.” ‘Crap.’ Now he knew she’d been talking about him. If it registered, he didn’t let on.

  ‘Lord, he’s hot!’ She held her tongue. Damn martini was talking.

  “Good to meet you, Nat,” he said. “I was surprised to see you here, Wallstreet. I didn’t realize you hung out in this part of town,” he directed his next words at Cassie, who shrugged. He still hadn’t taken his hand off her shoulder…and she was not going to do anything to make him move it.

  “Yeah,” Cassie said. “I told Nat to meet me for drinks after training, and this place was right round the corner.”

  “Well, you’ve stumbled into our regular watering hole,” he smiled. “The rest of the crew is here too.” He nodded to whe
re a rowdy group had gathered, a couple of them waving in their direction. “Wanna come over and hang out a bit?” Cassie looked over at Nat, who nodded.

  “Sure,” she said, “though I think Nat’s boyfriend is going to demand a visit to the gym as compensation.

  Nat winked at her. “Totally!” she agreed.

  By the end of the evening, Cassie had forged firm connections with people who would never have entered her world before. Tyson lingered on the outskirts of the group, mingling and chatting but not showing another sign of connection with her. It was maddening.

  She tried to pay attention to the people she was meeting, storing names and details in her mental databank. It was almost impossible when he was circling the group, so close, and yet so far. Aside from his impromptu rescue mission, he hadn’t approached her again, and she wondered if the incident at the gym had something to do with it. The thought sobered her, and she made a point of not letting her eyes stray over the lean, muscled lines of his body. He had a way of moving like a predator…watchful, energy-efficient. Something inside her was waiting for him to pounce.

  Oh, God, how she wished he would pounce.

  A couple of hours later, having sipped cautiously on a single glass of wine for as long as it would hold out, she shot a look at Natalie, who nodded. They left shortly afterward, chattering happily on the drive home.

  “That man is so into you! He barely took his eyes off you the whole night. And speaking of eyes…he’s a true green-eyed monster, that one. I thought he was gonna take that idiot’s head off,” Nat babbled as she brushed a kiss over Cassie’s cheek before clambering out of the car.

  “Yeah yeah,” Cassie laughed back at her before making the drive back home. ‘Into me?’ Whatever. Natalie was obviously drunk.

  By the time she got into her apartment, the thought of Tyson’s prowling body had lodged itself firmly into her mind. Not only had she remembered where she’d hidden that interesting little gadget from her cousin’s party, but she was also sure she had extra batteries…

  Chapter 7

  When Cassie arrived at training on Monday, Tyson had a firm game-plan: No fucking touching!

  “Hey, Wallstreet,” he called as she strolled out of the locker room, a sweat towel over her shoulder. Several of the other guys echoed the greeting. Friday’s drinks session had firmly cemented the name.

  “Let’s get that hip moving today,” he said, guiding her through some stretches. “Right hand on the wall, left knee up and forward, then to the side, and then stretch your heel back.” He kept his distance, limiting contact to the briefest of moments. “I want to see ten good stretches, each side.” She nodded, frowning in concentration as she moved. If he’d trusted himself, he would have assisted her through some more challenging moves, but he knew exactly where that would land him. Back in the shower. And in the dog box with Max. By the time she was warmed up, she was glancing around the room, clearly waiting for the next instruction.

  “More grappling today?” she asked cautiously. Obviously, she hadn’t been oblivious to the tension on Friday.

  “Yup,” he said briefly, and she shot him a look. He strode toward one of the rings, calling over his shoulder as he walked. “Buggy, Weaver…ten-minute warm-up then on the mat. Wade, I want you in the ring with Wallstreet.” Everybody had a nickname in this place…once they’d earned one. Wade still hadn’t earned one. The kid slid in without objection, though Tyson knew he was probably howling inside. Cassie’s face was a mask of confusion, but she quickly hid it.

  Tyson stood at the side of the ring, arms folded over his chest as he snapped out instructions. Strikes, blocks, kicks, rolls… After thirty minutes, the kid looked more winded than Cassie. Her little pink gloves remained firmly raised, though he could see she was tiring. She’d shoot him a glance occasionally, waiting for an instruction or correction. He wished all of his students listened so well.

  Wade was on the floor, grumbling again. Cassie had just swept his feet out from under him and was bobbing on her toes, waiting for him to get up.

  “Yo, Wade! You hit like a girl!” Buggy called over.

  “Naw…don’t say that! Wallstreet will take you out,” Weaver broke in. Cassie was trying not to smile. Wade looked like he was plotting murder.

  Tyson hid a grin. At this rate, the kid was going to earn himself a nickname he didn’t want to keep.

  ✽✽✽

  For the whole week, Tyson kept his nose clean, although it almost killed him to do it. After the mishap the previous week, he had to get rid of any hint of impropriety that might be brewing. But it seemed like the guys had grown increasingly aware of the chemistry between him and Cassie. By Friday, he was ready for downtime.

  “Hey, Wallstreet,” Clint had called to Cassie as they’d wrapped up for the day. “We’re off for drinks. You coming?” he sent Tyson a glance as he said it. Tyson said nothing.

  “Sure,” said Cassie, coming out of the locker rooms freshly showered. She looked good enough to eat. “Friday night is ‘Tini Time’, but my friend’s off on a date, so I’m at a loose end.”

  “Well, then it’s meant to be!” Clint quipped. “We’ll see you there.”

  The group had snagged their regular table, and Tyson ordered a sparkling water. And a martini. By the time Cassie walked in, a chair had been reserved for her beside his usual spot. He hadn’t arranged it that way…the guys had a hand in it. Maxwell had bowed out for the night; big date with some new woman. Tyson was out of that particular spotlight, and it seemed like he was being given the thumbs-up from his crew to woo Cassie.

  “Hey, gang!” she called out as she made her way across the room. Her hair had almost dried now, and it was curling in waves over her shoulders and down her back. Tyson sucked in a breath, trying not to look as if he was checking her out. Of course, he was checking her out.

  “Wallstreet!” Wade shouted back. He’d forgiven Tyson for making him grapple with the newbie. Like he was going to hold a grudge? He’d do what he was told. “We kept you a spot.” The guys jostled each other around, and suddenly Cassie was pressed up against him. So close… So close, he could smell the shampoo in her freshly washed hair. He clenched his jaw.

  “Hey,” she said, looking up at him. Was she breathless? No, she wasn’t breathless. That was him.

  “We ordered you a drink,” he said, reaching for her glass. “Martini?” Her eyes widened. She took it, fingertips stretching around the broad brim.

  “Umm…” she frowned, then brightened. “Yeah! ‘Tini Time!” She grinned and took a sip, then licked her lips. “It’s perfect! How did you know?” She broke eye contact with him and glanced around the group. They’d relaxed into their usual gathering of casual banter, but Tyson was convinced that all eyes were on him and Cassie.

  “Vodka…dry…extra dry,” said Clint, winking. “Three green olives.” He chuckled. “Kevin remembered from your last visit.” He glanced over at the bartender, who gave a nod in their direction before turning to another guest. Cassie’s brow furrowed.

  “He remembered?” she said, taking another sip. She reached for the toothpick on which the olives were impaled and bit a green globe off between white teeth. Tyson hadn’t said a word. He was staring. Stop staring.

  “Yeah! For sure, he remembered!” laughed Wade. “Your friends ordered you a round and then tried to send you a dozen more, but you turned them down.”

  “And then ‘The Killer’ arrived and put an end to all of it,” Clint joined in. The group erupted into laughter. “Oh, hell, it was classic, Wader Man!” Crank had clapped a hand on Wade’s shoulder. The kid might be about to earn himself that precious nick.

  “Friends?” said Cassie. “I wouldn’t call them friends! What a bunch of dorks!” Tyson stifled a smirk. He’d had to hold back his inner asshole when he’d seen the fuck-wad hitting on Cassie at the bar. It had been so sweet to watch the man scramble away. He didn’t expect to see him here again, but just the thought of him made Tyson bristle.

  “Yeah,
well, you were safe,” Wade said. “Coach would have torn a piece off him if he’d made another move.” Tyson didn’t say a word. He would’ve crushed the guy, but that wasn’t something he wanted to advertise. Crank was laughing.

  “Ah, man! Remember when that dick got the wrong idea about Sealie?” the kid said. There was a rumble of laughter, broken by a sharp objection.

  “Fuck that!” Ally ‘Sealie’ Andrews broke in. “I can look after myself!” The nimble brunette was as slippery as an eel on the mat and had earned a reputation as a formidable contender on the women’s circuit. She hadn’t needed Tyson’s help to deal with her unwanted suitor. But he’d stopped the fight before it started. Male or female, he couldn’t have his team getting dirty on the streets. Besides, the asshole might have wanted kids someday, and Sealie was setting to rip his nuts off. The babble of conversation had picked up, and it was okay now when Cassie brushed against him. Okay because nobody noticed. And okay because she didn’t seem to stiffen when they touched.