Against the Ropes

by Carly Fall

  “See how civilized we are?” he asked as he poured. “We even have wine glasses.” He handed her the glass with a grin.

  “You’re sure about this?” Regan asked.

  “Of course. There isn’t a problem, Regan. It’s a choice.”

  Regan glanced over at Max, who watched the whole interaction from the corner of the kitchen. He smiled and winked at her and then brought the salad to the table.

  They sat down at the dining room table and a few minutes into dinner, Regan said, “The enchilada’s are great, Max,” but she really didn’t taste them at all.

  She sipped her wine and thought about what was going on between her and Dylan. It had been so easy to fall back into his arms, to let the passion and desire take over and let Dylan take her to places of ecstasy. It would probably be in her best interest to leave Dylan and Max and go on with her own life. Her feelings for Dylan were still so strong, and she wasn’t going to put herself out there to be hurt again. Trust was not a word she associated with him.

  As they ate, Regan had noticed that Dylan kept trying to catch her eye, but she studiously ignored him, focusing instead on Max as he talked about the training for the next day.

  “Two PT sessions with Regan and a yoga session as well,” Max said, pointing his fork at Dylan. “And put your napkin on your lap, boy. What do you think this is, some slop house?”

  Regan felt her cheeks warm as she thought about how the last yoga session had ended.

  “I don’t know if my shoulder can take all three,” Dylan said as he placed his napkin in his lap. “The yoga session was definitely intense.”

  Regan studied her plate, her cheeks now on fire.

  “Well, then that shows me that you need to continue with it,” Max said.

  “I agree, Max,” Dylan said. Regan could feel his stare on her. “It was intense, but it felt really good. Really nice. Like it was something that I’d done before, but I’d forgotten how good it could feel.”

  Regan wished he would just shut up with the innuendos.

  “Good. Do it more often.”

  “I’d like to,” Dylan said.

  Regan finally glanced over at him, and he was staring at her with an absolutely wicked grin on his face.

  “As much as possible, in fact,” he said.

  Their eyes locked for an instant, and Regan grabbed her wine glass, taking a long swallow.

  “Are you okay, Regan?” Dylan said with a glint in his eye. “You look a little . . . heated.”

  She could feel his hands on her hip, his mouth on her breast, as well as the taste of him as they kissed as if it had just happened minutes ago, not hours before. Her body warmed further when she thought of his thick arousal pushing against her hot core.

  That was the thing with Dylan: she had never been able to get enough of him, and here she was frustrated about what had happened earlier and dying for more.

  What she needed was space from him. After finishing the rest of her wine in one long gulp, she said, “I’m feeling . . . warm, Dylan. I think I’ll turn in early tonight.”

  His eyebrows shot to his hairline, and then his eyes narrowed. “You must be impatient for bedtime. It’s only seven.”

  She shrugged. “I guess I could take it or leave it. Right now I just feel like lying down.”

  Dylan’s face fell for a moment, but then he smiled. “Okay. Sweet dreams.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Regan lay in bed, studying the ceiling and thinking about what Dylan had said about alcohol. I lost everything that meant anything to me because of it.

  Did that mean her, or did that mean his freedom? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that.

  What was going on between her and Dylan was purely physical on his part, of that she was certain. Or at least she hoped so as she couldn’t allow herself to acknowledge the feelings that were creeping in. But that was wrong. The feelings had always been there; they had just laid dormant for a long stretch of time. Being around Dylan brought them to life, and she hated that.

  For the sake of self-preservation, she needed to get out of here.

  Dylan had two more weeks until his fight and his shoulder was getting better. If he kept up with the yoga, he should do okay.

  But he needed to do better than okay; he needed to win for Max’s sake. Regan wondered if Dylan had any idea how much was riding on this fight for Max, and decided that he most likely wouldn’t saddle Dylan with his problems.

  She had taken the test to get her Arizona PT license, and was waiting for the results. Once she had those in hand, she would start looking for a job.

  Or maybe she should just run back to Indio. The thought depressed her.

  A light tap at her door interrupted her deliberations, and she turned and looked at the clock. It was 8:30 p.m. Surely Max wasn’t in bed now, was he?

  She got up and opened the door to see Dylan leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed at his chest. The white T-shirt popped against his brown skin, and he wore his half-grin that made her want to say yes to anything he asked.

  “Hey,” he said in a low voice.

  “Hi.”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk with me.”

  A walk? What happened to finishing what they started? God, her head was such a jumbled mess. She had just been thinking about leaving, and now she was disappointed that he didn’t want to take her right then and there. Maybe some fresh air would do her good. “Sure. Just let me slip on my sneakers.”

  They walked out the front door and down the driveway to the sidewalk. The neighborhood was quiet, the soft glow of the street lamps and porch lights illuminating their way.

  Dylan walked with his hands stuffed in the front of his jeans, and she crossed her arms over her chest wishing she had brought a sweatshirt. Spring in Phoenix was a beautiful time of year, with the highs in the eighties during the day, and a little chill settling in the air after the sun went down.

  “I was just messing around at dinner,” Dylan said, glancing over at her with a grin.

  “I know.”

  They walked in silence for a bit, and Dylan stopped when they reached the neighborhood park. He climbed the steps to the play structure, and she followed. Once they had reached the top that resembled the tower of a castle, he sat down against one wall, and she squeezed in, settling against the opposite wall.

  It was a cocoon-like feeling, being in such a small space with such a big man. Light from the upstairs window of a house filtered through the slats in the tower, casting shadows on Dylan’s face. She felt like they were the only two in the world, and it felt right.

  “Is Max asleep already?”

  Dylan nodded, and took her hand in his.

  They sat in silence for a moment as he rubbed his thumb over her pulse.

  “Dylan—”

  “Max told me to leave you alone,” Dylan said quietly as he stared at their hands. “When you first agreed to do this, to come work with us, he told me not to touch you. I believe the words he used were ‘no funny business.’“

  Regan didn’t know where this conversation was headed, so she remained quiet.

  “And I tried, Regan. I tried hard, but Max’s threats aren’t enough to keep me away from you.”

  He slowly brought his gaze to hers. “I want you, Regan. I want us to go back to the way things were before I fucked it all up.”

  Tears stung in Regan’s eyes and her breath caught in her throat. She realized that she wanted that too, but there was the huge trust issue hanging between them, and she didn’t think she could ever put her heart in his hands again.

  “I don’t think I can do that, Dylan,” she said quietly.

  Dylan cringed and then nodded. “Is it because of the guy you were at the fights with?”

  Regan smiled, but felt sadness well up. “No. Brett was my friend. It’s because of what happened between us, Dylan, because of what you did.”

  He nodded, and looked back down at their intertwined hands. �
��Regan, when we were together before, I was a young, dumb, cocky, arrogant asshole on the verge of becoming something big. I only thought of myself, what my next move was going to be. I didn’t think of other’s feelings, and when I slept with the first girl—”

  “The first being the one I walked in on you?”

  “Yes.”

  “See, I don’t even know if I believe that,” Regan said. Her heart twisted saying the words, but it seemed as though it was time to dump the truth on the feelings that they both had.

  He met her gaze, his dark eyes glinting in the light. “I swear to you on my mother’s grave that it’s the truth, Regan. I swear.”

  Words. Just words.

  “I don’t know what I can do to make you believe me.”

  Regan shrugged. “That’s the problem with trust, Dylan. It’s something that has to be earned. I don’t know what you can say to make me trust you.”

  Dylan remained quiet.

  “You hurt me, Dylan. It would have hurt less if you took my heart out of my chest and stomped on it. I won’t allow myself to be put in a situation where you can do that to me again.”

  “I love you, Regan,” he said quietly. “I think I fell in love with you within the first ten minutes of being your patient. I never stopped loving you, and when you were in my life, I was unstoppable. I was stupid, but you kept me grounded and focused. Without you, I couldn’t get moving and I . . . I was just in an ugly place. I tried to mask the pain I was feeling and forget about you with alcohol. I was a wreck, and please don’t think I’m saying any of the things that happened are your fault. They were mine. I set the events in motion that one stupid night, and I don’t blame you for leaving.”

  Tears slid down Regan’s face, and she quickly swiped at them.

  “But please believe me, that’s the past. I’m different now, Regan. I’ve . . . I guess you could say I’ve grown up, and I want you in my future.”

  They were silent for a moment as Regan cried, and Dylan looked at her as though he were begging her for forgiveness.

  “Dylan, I don’t think I can do that. Maybe it would be best if I just left and—”

  “No.”

  “Dylan—”

  “No. Please don’t, Regan. I’m begging you. I’m outright begging you. Please. Don’t leave. Let me show you how I’ve changed. Let me show you that we belong together.”

  What could she say to that? Deep down she knew that she wanted to be with Dylan, and she had never stopped wanting that. However, she just didn’t trust him with her feelings.

  But, people change. Maybe what he said was the truth. She had only spent two weeks with him, but she had noticed little things that were different. He didn’t carry the swagger of his younger days, and he seemed quieter, more reflective.

  “When we were together before, everyone wanted to give me everything. Promoters wanted me. People wanted me to fight. Women threw themselves at me. I took what was being handed out, not realizing that I was destroying the one thing in my life that was my everything. You.”

  Regan brushed away the tears again.

  “Now, I’m just a guy who’s trying to get his life back on track. No one is giving me anything, which is fine. Like trust with you, I have to earn my way.”

  “Dylan, I don’t know what to say,” and she truly didn’t. What she did realize was that she had been waiting to hear these words for a very long time.

  Dylan sighed. “For right now, just say you’ll stay. Just say you’ll give me a chance to prove myself to you.”

  Regan studied him. He seemed so sincere and honest, she found herself nodding before she knew what she was doing.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, leaned over and kissed her.

  It was a gentle, quick kiss. He pushed her hair behind her ear, and then traced one finger down her cheek to her neck. “I hate it when you cry,” he said, brushing a tear away. “It rips me up inside.”

  “I don’t particularly like it either,” she said, smiling.

  He brought his lips to hers. Again, the kiss was soft and sweet.

  “I really want to take you back to the house and get you naked,” he whispered against her lips, and then leaned back against the wall again. “But I won’t. I’m going to show you that I love you, that I respect you, and that you are so much more to me than just a lay.”

  She never thought that, but she did have reservations about sleeping with him because she didn’t think she could keep her feelings and emotions out of it.

  “Dylan—”

  “Shhhh,” he said, putting his finger on her lips. “Please. Let me show you how I’ve changed.”

  Maybe he had. Maybe he truly was this new person he claimed to be. Warily, she allowed herself to think about possibly accepting that as fact.

  “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get home.”

  She nodded and they crawled out of the tower, down the play structure steps, and walked the street back to the house, hand in hand.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Two days later, Regan paced the living room of the empty house. Max had taken Dylan down to the gym to spar. They’d asked Regan to join them, but she had decided to stay home. Now she wished she’d gone. The house was too quiet and too empty without them. She needed the distraction so that she didn’t get caught up in her inner war over Dylan. Did she trust him or not?

  It always came back to the same answer: she simply just didn’t know.

  Sighing, she grabbed her purse and headed out to the car. Her initial intent had been to head to the mall, but she ended up in front of the gym. The parking lot was full, and she had to find a space down the street.

  She slipped in and was surprised to see that most of the people there weren’t working out, but watching Dylan spar. It was wall-to-wall people, and they were cheering him on as if it was a real fight.

  She moved around the edge of the crowd until she found a spot where she could watch him.

  He danced around the ring with grace, his large body rippling with every punch. She was happy to see that he had on protective headgear. Max must have made him wear it because she knew that he couldn’t stand it.

  The bell rang and Dylan and his sparring partner each went to their own corners and sat down on their respective stools. Max stood in front of Dylan and poured water in his mouth while talking to him.

  Regan looked over the crowd and noted that there were a lot of women who were far too dressed up to be at a gym, and Regan realized they were most likely there to get at either Dylan or his sparring partner.

  The boxers went another round and then called it an afternoon. The crowd surged toward the ring, all wanting to shake Dylan’s hand or give him a pat on the back.

  After Max removed Dylan’s gloves, Dylan grabbed a towel and wiped his face, then slung it around his neck. He gave his sparring partner a wave and a smile and climbed out of the ring. Blotting the sweat from his head, he shook hands with his fans. He was reserved, yet polite. Regan could see that the words of praise being said to him weren’t affecting his ego, and it was almost as if he wasn’t hearing them. He looked like he was simply going through the motions of greeting his fans, but not enjoying it as he used to. He smiled, said thanks and moved on to the next person.

  A woman approached him and took his hand. She was tall and thin with a curtain of black hair down to her lower back. She wore a red skirt with a white tank top and looked like a high-class hooker as far as Regan was concerned. Regan couldn’t hear what she said, but the woman held on to Dylan’s hand and ran her other hand up his forearm.

  Regan flinched at their contact. Her chest tightened, memories of the betrayal flooded her senses—the sight of him naked in front of her, the scent of sex in the air, the pain that tore through her as she watched her world unravel. She wanted to run so she didn’t have to watch the interaction before her now, yet she couldn’t take her eyes from them.

  Dylan smiled, shook his head and disentangled himself from the woman. He said something, and put hi
s hand on her shoulder, and turned to greet someone else.

  The woman wasn’t going to be cast aside so easily. She stepped up to Dylan again and laid her hand on his forearm, smiling. Dylan once again removed her hand from his arm, and his grin faded into a harsh look. He said something to the woman causing her face to fall. Dylan shook a few more hands and then made his way through the crowd to the locker room, not glancing back.

  Regan was surprised. She remembered the Dylan of long ago who would have stayed around and basked in the glory of his fans, and would probably have even flirted with the woman a little bit.

  Regan pushed through the crowd to the door. For some reason she didn’t want Dylan to know she had come. As the warm sun hit her face, she slipped on her sunglasses and walked quickly to her car.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The next week, Dylan trained hard. He remained focused and felt he was in a really good place mentally. Being around Regan did that for him.

  Physically, he put his shoulder at about eighty percent. It was feeling much better, but not quite top form.

  He lay on the PT table with his eyes closed while Regan dug into his shoulder. She moved it up above his head and then to the side while massaging the inflamed tendon. It didn’t hurt half as bad as it did two weeks ago.

  As much as it killed him, he’d kept his hands to himself as far as Regan was concerned. He wanted to show her that she was more than a body to him, that he wanted more from her than just a lay. In fact, he had been tossing around the idea of marriage. He knew she was a few steps behind him on that one. Hell, she didn’t even know if she could trust him, let alone marry him. However, he felt that with both Regan and Max by his side, he was invincible. Max was an excellent trainer and father figure; Regan brought out the best in him, both personally and in his athletic performance. She made him want to win in every aspect of his life.

  “You aren’t squirming around like a little girl, so this must not be too bad for you,” she said.

  He gazed up at her, happy he no longer had the wooden table poking at him. Max had bought the used physical therapy table making the sessions with Regan much more comfortable. She stared down at him, her brown eyes warm. Her blonde hair fell around her face and she smiled at him.