DS Fight Club Box Set (Volumes 0-3)

by Josie Kerr

  Nanda shrugged and smiled, but her smile faded when Dig exhaled sadly.

  “What can I do to make you feel better?” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she realized the potential innuendo in it and braced for a cocky comment.

  When he shrugged and replied, “Nothing you can do, Nanda,” and turned to go check his mail, she realized exactly how upset he really was, and that made her like him even more.

  Oh, Dios.

  Chapter Thirty

  Dig opened his mailbox, out of habit, not expecting anything but the usual solicitations and sales flyers. Instead, all that was in the mailbox was a chunky, ivory-colored envelope that he immediately recognized as a wedding invitation.

  He took the invitation out of the small mailbox and stood there staring at the heavy envelope and running his fingers over the return address. Now he knew why his mother brought up seeing Jessica. Fuck.

  Nanda sauntered by, pushing an empty trash can, and whistled low. “Fancy envelope. Must be something good.”

  “My fiancée is getting married.”

  Nanda froze mid-step. “Come again?”

  She cocked her hip out in a way that, Dig knew, signaled that she was about to fly off the handle, and he quickly corrected himself. “My ex-fiancée. Very much ex.”

  “You had a fiancée?”

  “Fuck you, Nanda. Yes, I had a fiancée. We dated for six years. A long, long, long time ago.”

  Nanda’s expression softened. “Uh, you wanna go get a drink? I mean, I know you can’t get a drink drink, but you know, go somewhere and talk? I don’t have a lot, but you know, I got an ear and a shoulder.”

  Dig looked at Nanda’s earnest face, her big indigo eyes concerned and sympathetic.

  “Yeah, that’d be nice. I . . . think I need to process this with someone.”

  Nanda nodded. “Foley’s after my shift ends?”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll pop by the front desk, and then I can drop you off wherever you’re staying.”

  Nanda wrapped her arms around him and gave him a squeeze before stepping back and looking up at him again. She opened her mouth but didn’t say anything, just patted him on the chest and made her way down the hall, pulling the big trash can behind her.

  Nanda and Dig sat at a high top table, a crudité plate in front of them. Nanda pointed a carrot stick at him while she interrogated him about his ex-fiancée.

  “So, humor me, Dom. Let me see if I actually understand what the hell just came out of your mouth.”

  He snickered. “Shoot.”

  “You dated for three years, and then not only does she cheat on you, she gets knocked up by some other schmo. Am I right so far?”

  “Yep.”

  “Baby daddy Schmo doesn’t want anything to do with this situation. Am I right so far?”

  “Yep.”

  “And so how did you know that the baby wasn’t yours? I’m assuming you had been fucking since you’d dated for three years.”

  Dig cleared his throat. “You know what a hydrocele is?”

  Nanda shook her head. “Water something, right?”

  Dig squirmed. “Yeah, it’s a like a water balloon in your nutsack.”

  Nanda grimaced. “Yikes.”

  Dig barked a laugh. “Yeah, and mine was big enough to inhibit . . . stuff. I had to have surgery and was benched during the time that she got pregnant.”

  “What a fucking bitch!”

  “Yep, she obviously was, but not me.” Dig joked and then grinned weakly.

  “And she was your fiancée at the time when she got pregnant.”

  “Yep.” Dig pursed his lips. “This sounds really bad, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Nanda said with a snort. “So, what the fuck happened?”

  “She didn’t want anything to do with me. She never really explained herself, but she dropped out of school, moved away.” He swallowed hard. “Then she shows up five months later. She . . . had a late-term miscarriage.”

  “Oh, that’s awful. Okay, I feel bad about calling her bitch, now.”

  “Eh, it wasn’t healthy at all for either of us, but we got back together, tried again for another three years, but we never slept together again. And I’m telling you, it was a long and tedious breakup. Oh my God. She wanted me to be something I wasn’t ready to be. I just wanted her for myself. And neither of us was willing to break it off because it was . . . not comfortable, exactly, but . . . known, you know?”

  “Oh, Dom . . .”

  Dig shrugged. “It was what it was.”

  “How old were you two when she got pregnant?”

  “It was our freshman year in college.”

  “Damn. So you were high school sweethearts.”

  “Homecoming fucking King and Queen.”

  “Wow.” Nanda took a sip of her water. “And she has the fucking balls to invite you to her wedding? What, ten years after you break up? How fucked up is that?”

  “Pretty fucked up.” Dig chuckled. “So . . . what about you and Gene? What were your plans?”

  Nanda snorted unattractively. “What plans? There were no plans, ever. Hell, we never decided what we were having for dinner half the time until we saw a restaurant that we liked.”

  “So, you weren’t engaged?”

  “To Gene?” Nanda laughed long and hard. “Oh man, that is hilarious.”

  Dig cocked his head at Nanda. “You haven’t ever been engaged, have you?”

  She shook her head.

  Huh.

  “You think I’m some sort of emotionally vacant weirdo, don’t you?” Nanda fidgeted with the remains of the crudité plate in front of her. “You’re probably right. But I get you. About the not-comfortable-but-known thing. That’s totally Gene and me. The majority of the time, it’s not good, and it’s not pleasant. It’s not even fun or sexy. But it’s known. I know he’s going to dream up some idiotic scheme that’s going to ‘set us up for life, baby,’ and I also know that he’s going to be absolutely fucking shocked when it doesn’t work out.” Nanda chuckled and shrugged. “I know what I’ve got with him, and sometimes that’s enough.”

  “What about the times when it’s not enough?”

  “It’s fucking depressing as hell.”

  Dig looked around and saw Pierce putting the chairs on the tables. “I think they’re trying to close up, babe.”

  “Yeah, we’re the only two in here.” Nanda sighed and rolled her head on her neck. “Do you feel any better?”

  Dig nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I actually do.” He inhaled through his nose and then exhaled through his mouth. “Come on, Fernanda. Let’s get you to the hotel, okay?”

  They waved goodbye to the bartenders, and Dig even lifted his chin to Pierce, who nodded back. Then Dig drove Nanda back to the hotel where Junior and Derek were staying.

  He pulled into the porte cochère and lined up behind a row of cars.

  “I’ll just hop out here,” Nanda began, but Dig cut her off.

  “No, I’m getting out and walking you to your room.”

  “Oh my God, you are not.” Her phone buzzed, and she checked the message and quickly tapped a reply. “Junior and Derek are in the bar downstairs. I’ll meet them. It’ll be fine.”

  Dig stared at her, hard, but then nodded. “You text me when you get into that bar, okay? Better yet, text me a picture of you and the lovebirds.”

  Nanda rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll do that.” She leaned over like she was going to kiss Dig’s cheek.

  Dig turned his face and caught her lips with his. Gently cupping her cheek with his big hand, he parted his lips and tentatively touched hers with his tongue. Nanda leaned into him, opening herself to the kiss. She sighed as he moved his hand to the back of her head and deepened the kiss.

  When Dig broke the kiss, moving away from her mouth, she let out a little whimper until he pressed his lips to one cheek, and then the other.

  Dig leaned his forehead ag
ainst hers and sighed. Nanda cupped his face in her small hands and kissed his forehead.

  “Night, Dom,” she whispered. “Be careful heading back to the fight club.”

  “I will. Night, Nanda.” He kissed her cheek one last time, and Nanda got out of the car. He watched her as she walked through the revolving door, and wished that he was going in with her.

  The valet knocked on his window and signaled him to move along, so Dig headed back to the fight club, thinking about the evening and realizing that he might just have a made a friend.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Nanda walked, dazed, through the hotel’s opulent lobby toward the bar. Her fingers drifted over the parts of her face where Dig had pressed his lips, almost still feeling the electricity zipping across her skin.

  She was so distracted that she walked right by Junior and Derek and was halfway to the back of the restaurant before her older brother caught up to her.

  “Nanda? Where are you going?”

  “What? Oh.” She looked around as if unaware she had even entered the restaurant.

  “You okay, Sis?” Junior put his hands on her shoulders and bent down to look her in the eyes. “Where have you been?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Nanda licked her lips. “I, uh, was with Dom at Foley’s.”

  “Dom? Like ‘Dig’ Dom?” Junior’s eyebrows arched.

  “Yeah, Dig. He got some jarring news today and needed to bounce some stuff off someone.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t doing anything, so . . . And then he dropped me off.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. He’s fine. And he didn’t break training or anything—water and veggies and steak, okay?” Nanda shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t even see you.”

  She looked around for Junior’s boyfriend. “Where’s Derek?”

  “Oh, he got pulled away to network.”

  Nanda looked hard at Junior, who suddenly seemed unsure and a bit anxious.

  “Are you okay, Junior? Is something going on with you?”

  “Nah, I’m fine. I say I buy you a drink, and you tell me what’s got you all distracted. Come on, Sis.”

  Seated at Junior’s table with drinks in front of them, Junior quirked an eyebrow at his sister, who rolled her eyes and huffed a small laugh.

  “Have you ever been friends with someone you’ve dated? Like before? And quit raising those eyebrows at me. Dig and I are just friends.”

  “And you’re asking about friends to lovers because . . .”

  “Okay, don’t use ‘lovers,’ ever. It’s icky, okay? Like some gross seventies porn word.” Nanda shuddered. “I’m asking just because. . .because I don’t think I’ve ever really been friends with someone that I’ve dated, not really. And that makes me kind of sad.”

  “You were friends with Gene years before you started dating.”

  Nanda rolled her eyes. “I’ve known Gene since kindergarten; that’s completely different.”

  “Not that different from me and Derek, you know.”

  Nanda nodded, thinking that both of those relationships were pretty disastrous, though Junior and his high school sweetheart seemed to be inching toward coupledom, for better or for worse, after more than twenty years apart.

  “You got something to say, Nanda?” The eyebrow was arched again, and Nanda snickered.

  “No, I was just thinking that things have a way of working themselves out, you know? People end up finding their way to the right person, to who they belong with.”

  “You really believe that, don’t you?” Junior shook his head, incredulous.

  Nanda chuckled. She supposed that she did.

  “Don’t you? Don’t you believe that you’ll end up with who you need to be with?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Junior rubbed his hand over the back of his head. “I’m not exactly sure what I believe these days.” He shrugged and gave Nanda a small, sad smile.

  “Oh, Junior,” she started but then just shook her head and didn’t continue.

  “Why don’t you head up to the room, Nanda? I’m going to wait for Derek.”

  “Okay.” Nanda got up from the table and kissed the top of Junior’s head before she left the restaurant.

  She rode up, watching the lobby of the hotel through the glass walls of the elevator and wishing that Dig were with her, just so she could feel him beside her as she fell asleep.

  Nanda took advantage of the Jacuzzi again, filling it to almost overflowing. She sank into the tub, the bubbles actually flopping over the side to the floor. Her phone chimed, and she knew it was Dig without looking at the number.

  Thank you for spending time with me tonight.

  Sorry for the inappropriate kiss, though I enjoyed it.

  Sweet dreams.

  She huffed a laugh and texted him back, dismissing his worries about the kiss.

  That kiss. The kiss was wonderful.

  The nights that she and Dig were together, he had kissed her, but those kisses were nothing like the one he gave her tonight. Those kisses were hot, and hurried, and yes, sexy, but not anticipatory; after all, they had been naked in a bed, hands and mouths roaming all over each other. Tonight’s kiss was full of promise, full of potential, and Nanda thought it might just scare her more than she’d ever been in her life.

  But she knew one thing: she couldn’t wait for another one.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Dig slid back on the barstool after singing his third song and motioned for another drink.

  “Hit you with the same, big guy?” Meghan said.

  “Oh, let’s see. I’ll switch things up. This time, give me a lime.”

  “Ooh, dangerous.” She cocked her head and took a good look at him. “You’re different, Dig.”

  He shrugged. “I’m in training. No fun for me for ten weeks.”

  “Except for karaoke.”

  “Yeah, except for karaoke. That I can do without any repercussions.” He smiled and went back to absentmindedly playing with the coaster.

  “There’s something else, but if I know you fighter types, you’ll not tell me anything unless you’re ready to or unless you’re completely pissed. You’ve already told me you’re in training, so I’ll just leave you alone until you want to talk.” She winked and went down the bar to help someone else.

  “Now that is a good bartender.”

  “Hey, Ryan.” Dig took a sip of his water. “Yeah, she is a good bartender. What’s got you at a bar on karaoke night?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Jason’s back with Chelsea and they’re celebrating.”

  “Wild make-up sex?”

  “Dude. You can’t even imagine. So fucking loud.”

  “No pun intended, I’m sure.”

  Ryan blinked at him but then chuckled when he realized the double entendre. “No pun intended, indeed. So . . . what’s going on?”

  “Just bullshit, you know?” Dig proceeded to tell Ryan about the conversation he had with Nanda, about her insistence that she would be a distraction, a hindrance on the road to a championship belt.

  “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “Man, I guess it is that obvious, huh?”

  “Dude. She friggin’ lights up, I mean lights up, whenever you talk to her.” Ryan shook his head. “It’s ridiculous.”

  Dig chuckled. “Tig said I was twitterpated.”

  “Like Bambi?”

  “How do you guys know this shit?” Dig snorted. “Yeah, like Bambi.”

  “It’s a good description for that goofy-ass expression you get on your face when you talk to her.”

  “It’s different with Nanda,” Dig mused. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m older or what.”

  “Older than . . .”

  Dig sighed. “The last time I was serious, like really serious, with someone . . .” He tapped his fingers on the bar and blew out another breath. “She’s getting married. The last girl I was serious about. I got the invitation
a few days ago, and it hit me harder than I anticipated. Hell, we’ve been broken up for ten years. Why the hell does it bother me?”

  “Because there’s truly no going back now?”

  “Oh, there wasn’t any going back even when we were together.” He shook his head. “She cheated, got pregnant, we broke up, she lost the baby, and we tried again. It sucked. The end.”

  Ryan snorted a laugh. “I take it that’s the condensed version of the story?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Nanda and I went out after I got the invitation. It’s probably good that I went into training that afternoon, otherwise I probably would still be drunk.”

  “So, you and Nanda went out. And?” Ryan arched his eyebrows.

  “We talked. Came here and had a crudité plate.” He chuckled. “Then I took her back to the hotel where she’s staying, and I kissed her.”

  “And it fucked you up.”

  “And it fucked me up huge,” Dig laughed again. “I apologized after.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “She kind of pooh-poohed it, blew it off. Ain’t that some shit?” Dig cracked his neck, hoping to relieve some tension that reared its ugly head while he talked about his ex-girlfriend. His eye caught a big figure crossing the bar.

  “Oh, fuck me. I do not want to deal with this joker tonight.” Dig shook his head before turning his face toward the front of the bar, hoping that the man that walking toward him would get the hint.

  Of course he didn’t.

  Dig cracked his neck, ready to tell Damon Pierce to fuck off, yet again, when Pierce said, “Excuse me for interrupting, but Ryan, I need to talk to you for a sec in private.”

  Oh.

  Dig watched as Ryan followed Pierce to the front of the bar. They talked for a few moments and then shook hands before Pierce returned to his spot by the front door, and Ryan made his way to his bar stool.

  “Don’t say a word.”

  “Not saying anything.” Dig sipped at his water. “Okay, I’m saying something. What the actual fuck, Ryan? How the hell can you be friendly with that guy, knowing the shit he pulled with me and with C?”

  Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Man, I get it, but you don’t know—‍”