by Josie Kerr
“Argh!”
Frustrated, he flipped on the television, muting it quickly, and cycled through all the channels before settling on repeats of a serial crime drama.
Friggin’ Nanda.
He huffed a laugh, thinking about her prancing around during their duet, grinding up against him and belting out her verses. The woman could sing; that’s for sure. And dance.
Dig closed his eyes and thought about Nanda’s performance. He ran his hand down into his boxer briefs, and he cradled his heavy balls in his hand, giving them a squeeze before grasping his erection.
He heard a thump from Nanda’s bedroom and stopped his ministrations to crane his head around and see a light come on underneath the door. He sat completely still, waiting.
And then he heard the retching.
Boner. Killer.
His own stomach clenched at the sound of Nanda’s vomiting. But when he heard a quiet sob, his heart clenched, too, and he decided that he had to check on her. He pulled up his jeans before quietly knocking on the door.
“Nanda?”
Silence, though the light remained on. Dig poked his head into the bedroom and spied a sink through an open door. There must be a small en suite bathroom.
He walked quietly through the bedroom to the bathroom and stood beside it before saying her name again. “Nanda?”
Now he heard a small groan, and he blew out a breath and pushed the door open a bit. Dig poked his head in the door to see Nanda curled up in a ball on the floor, breathing heavily.
Dig grabbed a washcloth and wet it with water from the tap. He sat next to Nanda on the floor, dabbing her face with the cool cloth and smoothing back her hair. He rewet the cloth and pressed it to the back of her neck.
“You feel like sitting up?” he said in a soft voice. She nodded, and Dig helped prop her upright.
Nanda leaned against him, and he put his arm around her.
“You’re okay, Nanda. You’re okay.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head. “You wanna go lie down?”
She nodded, still not saying anything, big silent tears running down her face.
Dig picked her up easily and walked back into her small bedroom, Nanda clutching at him desperately.
He laid her on the bed, and Nanda whispered, “Stay. Just for a bit.”
Dig sighed and clucked his tongue. He stroked her cheek and nodded and then stretched out beside her after turning out her bedside light.
They lay there in the dark, Dig softly rubbing Nanda’s back while she rested her head on his broad chest. He heard her sniffle and then sigh before she nestled deeper against him.
“It’s weird being in the apartment by myself. It never used to bother me, staying alone at night, but I’ve gotten used to Junior being around.”
“You didn’t have a roommate? Or a . . . something?”
Dig felt her shake her head. “No, I always lived alone once I moved out of the house. I’m kind of like an only child, though, because I’m so much younger than the previous kid.”
“How much younger are you than Junior?”
“Ten years. I was the ‘change of life’ baby. Junior and the older girls are only five years apart, total.”
“I’m kind of the same. I have one sister, and she’s eight years older. She and my parents don’t get along too well, and she moved out the day after she got out of high school. I see her maybe once a year at the most. I really don’t even know her.”
“She got kids?”
“Yeah, she’s got two. Two boys. They’re in their late teens. I know them more than I know my sister because they’re MMA fans. I always get them tickets when there’s a card in Chicago, send ’em something on their birthdays.”
“That’s nice. I mean, it’s sad, but it’s nice that you’ve tried.”
Dig shrugged and hugged Nanda closer. He didn’t talk much about his family even though he and his parents were close.
“I’ve got one nephew, my eldest sister’s kid,” she continued after a while. “He’s twenty-three. He fights on Manny’s roster, but he’s a fireman, really.”
“There’s another sister, too, right?”
“Yeah, Ines. She never married, but she’s got a longtime partner. Mamá was upset for a while when they just lived together, but she got over it. They don’t have any kids.”
They grew silent, and Dig stroked Nanda’s head until she fell asleep. Then he crept back into the living room of her brother’s apartment, where he lay alone on the couch, without sleeping, until morning.
Chapter Thirteen
Nanda didn’t remember a lot from the previous night, but she remembered why she didn’t make a habit of drinking heavily.
Fernanda Maldonado, you are thirty-six years old—you know better!
She snorted and retorted to her own inner nanny, Yes, I know better, but when has that ever stopped me? That should shut that bossy bitch up.
She groaned when she also remembered being spectacularly sick and then Dig washing her face and being sweet and lying down with her. God, how embarrassing.
Nanda stumbled into the bathroom and peeked at herself in the mirror.
She looked exactly like a thirty-six-year-old woman who, the night before, had had enough whiskey to make her hurl: raccoon eyes, a puffy face, and a red nose.
Nanda heard a knock on the bathroom door.
“Nanda?”
She groaned but cracked open the door. Dig had one forearm against the doorjamb, leaning into the doorway. His hair and beard were damp, as was the collar of his shirt, leading Nanda to believe that he had done his early morning ablutions in the sink.
He gave her a grin. “I thought I heard you milling around,” he said, keeping his voice soft. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah. Thank you,” she stammered. “And thank you for being sweet last night. I’m so embarrassed that I got so drunk. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Everyone has those nights sometime.”
Nanda scowled. She didn’t usually let herself get that out of control.
Dig chuckled. “I think the green-eyed monster took temporary possession of you.”
“You think I was jealous?” Nanda huffed with an incredulous laugh. “Jealous?”
Dig shrugged. “Yeah, but we don’t have time to have a big discussion about this. I gotta haul ass down to the gym before I’m late for the camp meeting. I’m not interested in giving anyone any more reason to yell at me than they already have. I just wanted to check on you before I took off.”
“Oh. Oh, sure.”
“Okay, well, then, I’m going to go.” Dig stepped closer to her, and for a moment, Nanda feared that he was going to kiss her. She was way too gross for anyone’s mouth to come near her.
But he didn’t. He just patted her on the shoulder and slipped out of her bedroom, closing the door behind him.
“Thanks again, Dig,” she said softly after he had shut the door.
Nanda blew out a frustrated breath. “Jealous?” she repeated. She was not jealous of those girls that practically threw themselves at Dig when he got off the stage the first time.
Tig was definitely right, though. All Dig had to do was sing, and the honeys came out of the woodwork, practically stripping off their thongs and bending over the table for him. The lack of self-respect of these women disgusted her, mainly because she could see her past self in them.
So, no, she wasn’t jealous, at least of the girls. She might have been a little jealous of the attention that Dig gave them, which was utterly ridiculous because she didn’t want to be the recipient of any of Dig’s cheesy-ass pick-up lines or his schmoozy winks or comments.
Or maybe she did. Just a little, tiny bit.
Maybe she did like the attention that he paid to her, the little touches, the small winks. The way he slowed down whenever she appeared in his immediate vicinity. That big, goofy-ass grin that he got on his face when he talked to her, and the wa
y that it seemed contagious, to spread like poison ivy to her face.
Oh. Shit.
She actually liked that stupid fighter.
“Dammit to hell!”
She huffed another breath and rolled back into the bed. After lying there staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about that infuriatingly handsome fighter, she decided to go ahead and head to the fight club even though she didn’t generally work the desk on Saturday.
Because after all, the phone probably still needed to be answered, right?
Nanda sorted through the deluge of vendor catalogs, dumping duplicates and outdated ones into the recycle bin. She was glad she’d gone down to the desk today, because the phone rang steadily and she signed up several people for classes, customers that might not exist if she hadn’t answered the phone. This led to her tracking down Colin during a break and telling him that they needed a weekend receptionist and Colin telling her to take care of it, because after all, she was the gym manager.
“What?”
Colin grinned. “Come on, Nanda. You didn’t think I was going to make you answer phones for however long you stay here, did you? I talked to Manny, and he basically reamed me about having you on the phones and not running the gym. So. It’s yours if you want it. Unless you really, really want to just answer phones.”
Stunned speechless, Nanda stood with her mouth open while Colin chuckled.
“I see you did exactly what I told you not to do, and she’s reacting exactly like I said she would.” Junior shook his head, but the grin on his face told Nanda that her older brother knew this was coming.
“Colin, I don’t know what to say. And Junior, when did you get back?”
“Say yes, and then do whatever you need to do for getting someone in here on Saturdays. Then get the hell out of here.” Colin glowered at her, but Nanda thought she saw a hint of mischief in his gaze. Goofy man.
“This morning. I couldn’t miss my Saturday night with you, remember?” Junior said, looping his arm around Nanda and leaning all his weight against her. She stumbled and gave him a shove.
“Get off of me, you big oaf. What if I had plans?”
Junior snorted. “Please. I heard about how you were knocking back whiskey last night. You’re staying in tonight.”
“I am going to kick that little cowboy’s ass.”
“We can watch all the Fast and Furious movies . . .”
Nanda stopped. She did love her some Vin. She narrowed her eyes at her brother, trying to gauge if he was up to something. He looked blandly at her, but she thought she could see the corner of his mouth twitch.
“Oh, fine.” Nanda hugged Junior. “I should probably take it easy anyway.”
Junior laughed and shoved Nanda away after giving her a squeeze.
“I’ve got one more session today. You going to hang around until I finish, or should I get Gordo to drop me off?”
“I’ll drop you off. I told her she needed to go home.” Colin glared at Nanda but then winked.
Nanda rolled her eyes. “Fine, C. I can’t place an ad or anything until Monday, so I’m going to head out. See ya, Junior. C, thanks again.”
After leaving DS Fight Club and driving home, Nanda practically skipped through the parking lot, actually whistling.
Coming to Atlanta, hands down, was the best decision she had ever made. True, the circumstances that spurred the decision weren’t the most ideal. Oh, hell, she needed to be honest: the only reason she ended up here was because her apartment was ransacked for the second time in four months, and luckily, she wasn’t home this time.
Thinking about what would most likely have happened if she had been at her apartment when Gene’s “business associates” came back killed her exuberance. She blew out a breath and pressed the code into the keypad and made her way up the stairs to the apartment.
She collapsed on the bed as soon as she got inside. With an eye on the clock, she decided she’d have enough time to take a short nap before Junior arrived home. Without bothering to undress, she climbed underneath her coverlet and closed her eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
She awoke a few hours later, completely disoriented. She had been dreaming about Dig, specifically Dig singing that Jason Derulo song last night.
So. Hot.
Nanda lay in the bed for a bit, imagining Dig singing that dirty song while showing off that big naked body of his, and she couldn’t resist slipping her fingers under her jeans and panties. The fact that she was dripping wet didn’t really surprise her at all.
She flicked her clit and rubbed the tender nub between her thumb and forefinger, barely skimming her folds. As she still wore her jeans, she used the stiff denim to enhance the friction. It didn’t take her long to begin soaring.
As her orgasm rocked through her, a loud moan escaped from her mouth, followed by gasping whimpers as she stroked herself to completion. She was still lying in the bed, hand in her panties, fingers wet with her orgasm, when she heard a knock on the bedroom door.
Fuck.
“Nanda? You okay in there?”
Shit.
“Yeah, Junior, I’m fine. I just woke up from a nap.” She cleared her throat, praying that she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “I must have been sleeping with my mouth open, because my throat is all scratchy.”
Silence from the other side of the door. “Okay, then. Um. Yeah. I ordered some takeout from that Asian place you like. I’m going to go pick it up.”
“Sure. I’m gonna hop in the shower.”
Nanda listened to Junior’s retreating steps before she blew out the breath she was holding. She put her hands over her face, but the scent of her on her own fingers made her groan again.
Dominic DiGiacomo, what are you doing to me?
Nanda slurped down the last of the noodles in her bowl while her brother looked on in disgust.
“And it’s a wonder why a nice boy hasn’t snapped you up. Dios.” Junior shook his head but laughed when Nanda flicked a fortune cookie at his head.
“Damn, that’s good. I needed an infusion of salt and grease. Thanks, Junior.” She put her bowl on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, stretching her arms out and opening her mouth with a jaw-cracking yawn.
Junior chuckled again. “You about ready to turn in, Little Sister?”
“No, I wanna hear Lucas Black’s accent for a little bit. You’d think more people would have nice accents down here.”
Junior shook his head. “Not a whole lot of people that live in Atlanta are actually from Atlanta, or even the South.”
Nanda burped and excused herself. “Sorry. Yeah, there’s Tig and Ryan, and C has that funny twang, but that’s about it.”
“Well, Tig talks enough for seven fighters.” Junior groaned and stretched out on the sectional. “He makes up for Ryan’s lack of talkativeness.”
“Taciturnity.”
“What?”
“Taciturnity. That means that you don’t talk much.”
“Whoo, look at the big vocabulary on Nanda,” he said with a chuckle. “No, Ryan is pretty reticent.” He winked at his sister.
“Now who’s showing off their vocabulary?” She threw another cookie at Junior, who caught it and popped it in his mouth, forgetting that there was a fortune inside until he had to fish the paper out of the crumbled cookie. “Bleh.”
“I worry about him, though.” Nanda ran her thumbnail over the seam in her sleep shorts. “Has Ryan told you his story?”
Junior shook his head. “Not much more than he’s told anyone. He got shot carrying a dying Marine back to their transport.”
“Damn.” The two siblings watched a bit more of the movie before Nanda spoke again. “He likes you, you know.”
“Well, I like him, too.”
“No, Junior. I mean, I think he’s in love with you.”
“No, he thinks he’s in love with me. He is not in any state to get into a relationship with
anyone.”
“And you’re an expert on this.”
“Not an expert, but I’ve been there. He needs to get his own head sorted before he gets tangled up with anyone.”
“Could you help him? Would you help him?”
Junior shrugged. “I probably could. But he has to want it, and I don’t think he’s there yet.”
“He drinks too much.”
“Yeah, I know, but he does it at home. He’s not endangering anyone but himself.”
“What did you do, you know, to cope?”
Junior barked a laugh. “Oh, Nanda, you do not want to know.”
“I remember Mamá crying a lot about you, telling Marta that you didn’t die over there like you wanted to, so you were going try to kill yourself over here.” Nanda chewed her lip. “Did you ever want to kill yourself?”
“Kill myself? No. But, yes, I wanted to die. I did a lot of stupid shit, Nanda. A lot of stupid shit. I don’t know how I didn’t get HIV. God, so much risky behavior.”
“Until Manny straightened you out.”
Junior nodded. “Until he saved my fucking life.”
“You gonna move back? I know Manny wants you to.”
“Maybe.”
“Derek wants you to.”
“Yes, he does.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
Junior chuckled. “Okay, Dr. Nanda. I don’t know. I’m not sure. We’re trying to take things slow.”
“Uh-huh. How’s that working out for you?”
“Not so great.” Junior rubbed his bald head with his hands. “Well, it’s actually pretty great, but yeah, not so successful with the ‘taking it slow’ part.”
“When are you going back?”
“Wednesday. And I’m staying the whole week until the following Sunday. Will you be okay by yourself? You feel safe?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. It’ll be nice to have the place to myself a bit. And remember, there’s a cookout at C’s on Friday, so it’s not like I’ll be sitting in the apartment all by myself all the time.”
Junior rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you know Bailey won’t let you get out of going to that madhouse.”