Touched

by Sabre Rose

  I felt the colour drain from my face. “Mark?”

  Mark shrugged his shoulders and took a swig at the bottle of beer in front of him. “Gabe was only too happy to oblige. He literally jumped at the chance, in fact. It was just handy that he was already approved to step in, having a membership to the training gym and all.” He raised his eyebrows. “Is there a problem, Lauren?”

  I thought back to Gabe, fists flying into the boxing bag time and time again. There was no way Derek could face him. He would kill Derek.

  “Excuse me,” I said, glaring at Mark. “I need to go and try to convince Derek to pull out of the fight.”

  I ran out the doors in search of Derek and found him skipping in the hallway, his trainer beside him.

  “May I speak to Derek alone for a moment?” I asked, and Evan walked away, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

  “What’s wrong?” Derek bounced on the spot, looking at me, concerned.

  I held my hand out. “Can you stop that for a minute?” He stopped skipping and I took a step closer. “I don’t want you to fight.”

  Derek laughed and started skipping again. “It’s a little late for that now, Lauren. It’s sweet you’re worried about me though.” He smacked his lips together in a kiss.

  “I heard the guy you’re fighting is young and probably a lot fitter than you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Derek stopped skipping again and pulled me close, kissing the top of my head. “I’ll be fine. And you know what young means, don’t you?”

  “Fast?” I offered.

  Derek shook his head. “Inexperienced.”

  “But not always,” I insisted, thinking once again of Gabe’s fists and the way his feet quickly danced across the floor.

  “I’ll be fine. Now off you go.” He turned me away and slapped my backside.

  Rounding the corner, I ran straight into Gabe. He had barely talked to me since that night at the café, and had called in sick a lot. It had almost got to the point where Peta was considering giving him a formal warning. That was saying a lot for Peta. As strict as she sometimes appeared, she hated confrontation.

  “Lauren?” He seemed as surprised to see me as I was him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed at him.

  He smirked and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms, those beautiful arms, across his chest. “I’m just helping out at a charity gig.”

  “Helping out? You knew you would be fighting Derek.”

  “That was just an added bonus,” he replied. “Really, I’m just doing it out of the goodness of my heart.”

  “You’ll hurt him.” I stepped closer and put my hand on his arm.

  He stared down at my fingers splayed across his skin and then back up at me. “That’s the point. And aren’t you afraid that I’ll get hurt?” He looked at me so intently my pulse rose with each moment that passed. “Break up with him and I’ll pull out of the fight,” he said suddenly.

  “You would stoop to that?” I replied, jerking my hand back.

  “I would,” he said. “And much, much more.” His voice was dark and filled with gravel. “You’re all I can think about.”

  “Even while kissing Haleigh?” I shot back at him and then scolded myself for getting pulled into his game.

  “Especially while kissing Haleigh.”

  My god, he was sexy, even with another woman’s name on his lips. What was wrong with me? My heart hammered in my throat and he smirked, knowing the effect he had on me. I wanted to walk away but my legs wouldn’t move. In the end, he was the one that left.

  “Let me know if you change your mind,” he called behind him.

  I couldn’t eat the meal when it was set before me. I couldn’t hold even the smallest of conversations. Derek’s workmates teased me about being nervous for him. They called me sweet. If only they knew the truth.

  I almost left. My insides felt like they were being torn in two. And then ‘Killing in the Name’ blared across the sound system and Gabe walked down the line of carpet to the boxing ring. The crowd cheered and whooped as he removed his shirt and strutted around the ring, lifting his arms and egging the crowd on. He met my eyes and lifted an eyebrow in an unasked question. I looked away.

  Derek’s entrance paled in comparison and my heart sank for him. Even though no one else would be able to tell from his demeanour, I knew he was freaking out. He blew me a kiss across room and I felt like crying.

  “Am I too late?” a voice drawled behind me. The lying-man-stealing-bitch sat down on the chair beside mine. The entire table fell quiet.

  “What?” she said and placed her handbag under her seat. “I paid for my ticket just like the rest of you.”

  “Tracey,” Preston said. “We thought you weren’t coming.”

  “Really?” She turned and smiled at me. “I told Derek last night I was.”

  Without a word, I rose from the table and walked over to Mark who pulled out the seat beside him. “Is that who I think it is?” he asked.

  I nodded and breathed deeply, trying to calm the seething anger bubbling beneath the surface. Suddenly, I didn’t care so much if Derek got hurt.

  He patted my hand. “Sometimes this town is entirely too small.”

  The bell sounded and Derek threw the first punch but Gabe ducked away easily and grinned at the crowd. He was toying with Derek.

  Mark reached across and filled my glass to the brim. Leaning over, I slurped enough so I could lift it, and then held it in salute to Mark. He picked his glass up, knocked it against mine and then we both downed the whole lot.

  I tried to avoid looking at what was going on in the boxing ring, but there were large screens projecting the action everywhere. Derek threw a few more punches which Gabe avoided easily. And when Gabe decided to hit back, it connected with Derek’s jaw, knocking him sideways. The room went silent as he swayed on his feet and the crowd erupted into applause as he shook his head and stood firm. The hit had unsettled him though and his training went out the window. He lunged at Gabe, throwing his punches wide and leaving himself open for Gabe to work quick, short jabs into his side.

  Even Simon winced as he watched. “Keep your defence up, you idiot!” he yelled out to Derek.

  Derek stumbled on his feet and blood dripped from his nose but he refused to stop. Gabe, on the other hand, was bouncing on his toes, shifting his weight from foot to foot and taunting Derek to punch him. Derek’s next swing was so wide Mark covered his eyes, knowing what was about to happen. Gabe’s glove-covered fist hit Derek squarely on the jaw again and his face flew to the side, spit and blood flying into the air. He hit the floor and lay there, still. The referee started the countdown as Derek stumbled to his knees. He made it to one foot before the referee called it and the crowd broke into thunderous applause as Gabe lifted his arms, triumphant.

  “Well,” Mark said, lifting his refilled glass.

  “Well,” I repeated. Gabe looked over and met my eyes before offering his hand to Derek to help him back to his feet. Derek shook his head and struggled up without help. Gabe’s song echoed across the room again and Derek stood and waited as they announced Gabe’s win by technical knockout and lifted his hand high.

  Derek’s eye and nose were swollen when he appeared in front of me minutes later. He reached across and grabbed a bottle of beer, downing it in one go before slamming it back down. “What are you doing at this table?” he asked me, glaring at Simon.

  “I didn’t feel like sitting at yours.” I nodded across to where Tracey was talking to Preston, leaning into him and playing with his hair. She glanced over at Derek and smiled.

  “What the fuck?” Derek said. “I told her not to come.”

  “So you did talk to her?”

  Derek looked around the table. “Let’s not do this now.” He walked to the bar, leaving me behind as the crowd roared for the next fighters to battle it out in the ring.

  Across the room, I spotted Gabe being congratulated by his friends sea
ted on the rows of chairs that surrounded the tables. They slapped him on the back and he laughed, downing a beer in one gulp, much like Derek had just done, only for different reasons. He looked across the room and raised his second bottle to me. Dressed in a purple shirt, tie, and a dark grey suit, I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. What was wrong with me?

  When Derek finally came back to the table, his eyes were glazed and his words slurred. Goodness knew how many vodkas he had consumed at the bar.

  “Fucking upstart,” he said, nodding over to where Gabe stood. He swayed and held onto the back of my chair.

  “Just how much did you drink over there?”

  “Not enough,” he said, still glaring at Gabe, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I know him,” he growled.

  Simon snorted. “Of course you know him, he’s Hamish Thornton’s kid.”

  We all knew who Hamish Thornton was. His name was well known within the real estate world, owning most of the upmarket properties and buildings in this town as well as many others, but most of his properties were in the city. I was surprised that it hadn’t occurred to me that Gabe was his son. Clearly Gabe hadn’t inherited any trust funds.

  Derek swung around to face Simon. “You’re fucking kidding.”

  “Nope. Hamish is here somewhere.” He rose awkwardly, his broken leg still resting on the chair in front of him, and looked around the room, shrugging his shoulders and sitting back down when he couldn’t find him.

  “That little twerp is Hamish’s son?”

  “I swear.” Simon held up his hands.

  Even though Gabe was across the room, Derek lunged in his direction before stumbling and grabbing onto a chair.

  I got up to steady him. “Maybe we should get going?” I suggested.

  “Keen to get home, are we?” Derek smirked and tried to caress my cheek but ended up by just mashing his hand against me.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Not as drunk as I want to be.”

  I hooked my arm under his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you home.” I dragged him across the floor but unfortunately, exiting meant passing by Gabe and his group of friends. When Tracey appeared in front of us, I was almost thankful. At least she would distract Derek from Gabe.

  “Hey, it’s Tracey,” Derek said, raising his beer and drinking. He leaned forward and whispered loudly. “You shouldn’t be here, my wife doesn’t like it.” He took another gulp of his beer and then turned to me. “Sorry, not wife, fiancée.” He shook his head. “Nope, not even that. Girlfriend?”

  I had never seen Derek so drunk. I wasn’t even sure how he accomplished it in the time that had passed since he left the boxing ring. He leaned heavily on me and I was tempted to move away, let him fall in front of Tracey, let her clean up the mess.

  “Lauren.” Tracey nodded and sipped on a straw in her wine glass.

  At that moment Gabe draped his arm over Tracey and poked his head into the triangle. “Well, well, what a nice reunion we have here.”

  “Not now, Gabe,” I said, trying to drag Derek towards the door.

  “You know him?” Derek slurred rather loudly in my ear. His breath reeked.

  “Of course she knows him.” Tracey wrapped one arm around Gabe’s waist, her eyes sliding over him.

  I had visions of punching her in the face. Was it not enough that she stole my fiancé? Now she wanted Gabe, too? I took a deep breath.

  “She works with him,” Tracey said.

  Derek smiled, a light bulb going off in his head. “You’re the fucker that burnt my tongue.”

  “The one and only,” Gabe said, bowing low.

  Derek’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me you knew him before the fight.”

  “I didn’t think it was important.” I tugged at his arm but he dug his feet in and stood firm, seeming a little less drunk than he was before.

  Gabe clutched at his heart. “Ouch. That hurt, Lauren.”

  “Please Gabe,” I pleaded. “Just leave me alone.”

  “You heard the woman,” Derek slurred. “Leave her alone.”

  Gabe tutted under his breath, shook his head and leaned in close to Derek. “That’s not what she said the other night.” He grinned and turned his eyes to me knowingly.

  My heart dropped to my feet.

  “You little fucker!” Derek shouted and lunged towards Gabe, swinging madly. But Gabe was ready for him and his punch landed on Derek’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. Gabe took a step back, panting with the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins and looked up at me. Tracey ran to Derek’s side and helped him to his feet as he wiped the blood from the side of his mouth. The room stilled and all eyes turned to me, so I ran.

  I didn’t look to see if anyone followed. All I knew was I didn’t want them to. I needed to be alone. I needed to clear my head. Running down the entrance of the stadium, I made my way out into the foyer, accidently running straight into the very firm chest of a man juggling multiple beer bottles in his hands.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, wincing as I saw the stains on his shirt.

  “Watch where you’re going, would you?” the man replied, dumping the now nearly empty bottles into the trash. He looked over at me, a frown pressed between his brows, but then his expression changed and a slow and seductive smile replaced his frown.

  But all it did was remind me of Gabe’s smile. Only, he wasn’t Gabe. He wasn’t Derek. It was some dark-haired, handsome, but random stranger.

  “Sorry,” I muttered again, moving around him and continuing out the door.

  “Wait,” he said, but whatever else he was about to say was cut off when the doors slid shut behind me.

  21

  LAUREN

  I was in bed, not asleep, but in bed, when the banging started at my door. I ignored it but Derek wasn’t giving up. Finally, afraid the neighbours would call the police, I stormed down the hallway and ripped open the door.

  “Fuck off!” I yelled.

  “I’m so sorry,” Gabe said as he stumbled through the door. “Lauren, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I never wanted—” He crumpled to the floor and sat with his back resting against the couch. “I’m just so sorry.”

  “I thought you would be Derek,” I said, staring down at him, arms crossed and unimpressed.

  He pulled himself to his feet and sat on the couch, holding his head between his hands. “Not Derek.” He shook his head. “He took off with the lying-man-stealing-bitch after I knocked him down. He doesn’t learn very quickly, does he?” His eyes were red and swollen. “He doesn’t love you, Lauren. Not like I do.”

  His words cut me, but I had at least expected as much. Derek had been speaking to her without telling me. She thought it was okay to turn up at a function I was attending. Clearly, she wasn’t out of his life like he had said. Surprisingly, I was not angry about it. In fact, right now I couldn’t care less. I was done with the night. Done with drunk men. I just wanted the blissful oblivion of sleep.

  “Go home, Gabe.”

  “Didn’t you hear me, Lauren? I said I love you.”

  “And you thought beating the crap out of Derek would prove that to me? You’re drunk. Go home.”

  Gabe stood, all previous drunkenness disappearing as he grasped my shoulders. “I’m not that drunk, Lauren. I know exactly what I’m doing. I know exactly what I want. And it’s you.”

  His eyes searched my face and my resolve started to waver. What was it about him that so easily undid me? He cupped my face and slowly drew me close. His blue eyes were dark yet hopeful, the closer he got, and when his lips finally touched mine, they were so soft they felt like a feather.

  “Please,” he groaned. There it was again. That groan. “Please say you forgive me.”

  His kisses grew more urgent and I felt my body responding, even as I willed it not to. I wrapped my hands in his hair and pulled him closer until our bodies melded into one. His body pressed against every inch of me as he ran his mouth down my neck and nuzzled i
nto the curve of my shoulder. His breathing became erratic and laboured and I pulled away from him.

  “No,” I breathed shakily.

  Gabe stood at arm’s length his eyes pleading. “Let me stay.”

  I started to shake my head.

  “I won’t touch you. I won’t kiss you. I won’t do anything. Just let me stay. And if you want me to leave in the morning, I promise I’ll leave without a word.”

  I should have said no. I should have steeled myself against those pleading eyes.

  But I didn’t.

  * * *

  Gabe kept true to his word. Well, not exactly but close enough. I woke with him huddled against me, arms around my waist, cheek pressed against my back. As I tried to slide out from his embrace, his grip tightened.

  “Not yet,” he whispered.

  I relaxed into him, relishing the feel of his skin against mine, his arms around me. “Good morning,” I whispered.

  His cheek crumpled against my back and his fine stubble grazed against me as he smiled. “Good morning,” he whispered and sat up to kiss my cheek before lying back down. “Can I ask you something? Why are we whispering?”

  I laughed and rolled over to face him, feeling happier than I had done in days. “I have no idea.” Propping myself up on my elbows, I studied him. “How’s the head?” And then I added, “And the body?”

  “Surprisingly good, actually.” He stretched into the air, testing his muscles for soreness. “Head’s a little achy but other than that, pretty fucking great.” He reached over and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “So now that we’re here in the cold light of day, am I leaving?”

  There were two sides to me. Well, at least two sides. One was the sensible side that told me when something was bad, a stupid idea, or just plain dangerous, and the other side was the one that ached for fun.

  In the past, the sensible side was responsible for telling me to save money, do the housework now instead of reading that novel, it told me not to eat that bar of chocolate, or drink that next glass/bottle of wine. It was the side that said hard work equals reward. That good things were worth waiting for. Be patient. Wait.