by Marie York
I laughed, even though it was the last thing I felt like doing.
“Trish called us. Said you were in here moping,” Max said, as he waved down the bartender and ordered a beer.
“I’m not moping,” I protested.
Max pointed to the glass in front of me. “How long have you been drinking that beer?”
“Long enough.”
“Let me guess, girl troubles?” Max asked.
I shrugged, and Tripp turned with his finger out, and a big doofy smile on his face. “Nix found out!” he guessed then drew his hands to his mouth like a giddy school kid.
“Yup,” was all I said, but it was enough to send Tripp into a laughing fit. Max joined him soon after, but gathered himself together much quicker.
“Oh, man, how’d he take it?” Max asked.
I turned to let them see the cut on my eyebrow, and the nice black and blue mark that was forming around my eye.
Max’s eyes widened and he took a sip of his beer. “That well, huh? At least he didn’t kill you.”
“I almost wish he had,” I mumbled. I stood up from the stool and patted Max on the shoulder. “I actually have to get going.”
“Where you off to?” he asked.
“I’m in the mood for another black eye.”
“He’s fighting tonight,” Max offered.
“I know. If I’m lucky, I can catch him before the match.”
Tripp leaned across the bar. “You’d be better off waiting ‘til after. Maybe by then he won’t have the energy to kill you.”
Max lifted his glass to me. “Either way, good luck. You’re going to need it.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I headed out of the bar, and over to the fight. There was a shit ton of traffic heading into the parking lot, and I was late. I’d have to try to get to Nix after the fight. So, I headed into the venue, paid the entrance fee, and looked for my seat.
The crowd erupted into cheers, and I realized the fight had already started. I made my way down the aisle, so I could get a good glance at the ring.
Nix was bouncing from one foot to the other, his fists held in front of his face, ready to take a jab. He watched his opponent like a hawk stalking his prey. Bricks took the first move, thrusting his fist at Nix. Nix blocked it, and continued to stay strong on defense, blocking every blow that came his way.
Bricks circled around him, and Nix followed. Nix took his eyes away for a second, and he spotted me in the crowd. His jaw clenched, and even though it was a brief moment, his opponent took the in, and knocked him square in the face.
Nix’s head flung back, and he stumbled. Blood spewed from his eyebrow. From getting punched by him in the same place, I knew that spot was a bleeder. My couch and carpet would never be the same.
Bricks was in front of Nix now. A sinister smirk spread across Nix’s face as his gaze landed over Bricks’ shoulder and right back on me. He swung at Bricks, but he was blocked, so he swung with his other hand.
Eventually he got a shot in, and continued hammering Bricks while his eyes never left mine. Bricks took blow after blow that I knew were intended for me. Blood dripped from Nix’s eye, but, at one point, I couldn’t tell if the blood on his face was his or Bricks.
Bricks obviously was not moving anymore, so the refs tried to stop Nix, but he continued beating Bricks. Finally, two guys managed to rip him off of his unconscious opponent. He swiped the blood from his face, and then Nix met my eyes again, and narrowed them until they were tiny evil slits.
He was warning me to leave. Fuck that. I had shit to say, and it was now or never. If he wanted to kill me, then he would have to do just that. I wasn’t leaving here until I said my piece.
Nix strutted out of the ring, and I managed to push my way through the crowd and toward him. He went to the locker room, and I followed, sneaking by the security guard stationed at the entrance.
A person was tending to his eye, and I figured I’d be safer to approach now. He wouldn’t kill me if there was a witness. At least, I didn’t think he would.
His head was leaned back, but he still saw me as I walked in. That evil glare from earlier returned, and his fists clenched at his side.
“You must be really fucking stupid.” He sat up and dismissed the person who was cleaning out his wound.
“Not stupid. I just want to end this. Make it right.”
“There is no making it right. I trusted you and you screwed me. Excuse me. You screwed my sister.”
I shook my head at his brashness. Kennedy deserved better than that. “It wasn’t like that.”
“I don’t give a shit what it was like. I trusted you to watch her, and all along, it turned out I should have been warning her against you. I hope you were smart enough to use protection this time.”
I could’ve told him the truth right then, but the way he was spewing hate at me through his eyes, it didn’t matter what I said. Nothing I said or did would change anything. His mind was made up, and there wasn’t anything I could do.
“So what? We’re not friends anymore? All those years down the fucking drain?”
“You should’ve thought about that before you went after my sister. Did you even once think about what would happen if I found out?”
“Are you kidding me? That’s all I fucking thought about. But you know what? I regret not acting sooner. I spent so much time worrying about what you would think and caring about your thoughts, and yet you haven’t heard me out once since finding out.” All this time and I was blinded to the truth, but it was right there in front of me. “You don’t give a fuck about me. You couldn’t care less. All you care about is yourself. So, fuck you. I’m done. Go live your miserable fucking life.”
He jumped up and got in my face, but I refused to back down. This was one time when I wouldn’t let him win. Sweat and blood dripped down his face, and our noses practically touched. His eyes darkened in disgust, and I gave my own death glare back.
“Get the fuck out of here. I’m sick of looking at you,” Nix finally said and stepped down.
“That makes two of us.” I disappeared out the door, leaving Nix and our friendship behind.
Chapter 17
Kennedy
Hearing Beckham, and seeing him, only made the pain worse. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I choked on my sobs. It was as if someone was sitting on my chest, refusing to let me breathe. I hated that he had this power over me. Hated that I couldn’t control my emotions. There was just so many of them, and I couldn’t hold them back. They poured out of me like blood from an opened wound.
Erica plopped down on my bed and patted my ass. “So, do you plan on telling me what’s wrong?”
She’d come back a couple hours after Beckham left, and other than a few shakes of the head, I hadn’t said anything to her. I didn’t want to talk. Once I talked and admitted out loud what Nix had told me, then it was real.
“Fine, if you’re not going to tell me then I’m just going to guess. Considering I came home to a coffee and a plastic bag of goodies outside the door, I think it’s safe to say Beckham was by.
I nodded.
“Okay, good. We’re getting somewhere. And, considering you’re crying like someone just stole your puppy, I’d guess trouble in paradise.”
I hiccupped a yes.
She threw off my comforter. “So, that settles it. We’re going out. Get dressed.”
I shook my head, but she didn’t even see me. She was already in the closet, tearing through her clothes. A skirt flew at my head, followed by a shirt, and then a pair of heels that, if I didn’t duck, would have clobbered me right in the face.
“I’m not going out.” I finally found the energy to speak.
“Kennedy, no fun was ever made sitting in a dorm and crying over a guy. Do you want to look back on these years, and remember the fun you had, or remember crying in your bed because of some jerk?”
“The fun of course, but can’t I at least get a night?” My heart was broken, shattered into a milli
on shards, and shots and dancing, wouldn’t fix them.
She grabbed my hands, and pulled me from the comfort of my bed. “Not a chance. Get dressed. We’re going out.”
Begrudgingly, I grabbed the clothes Erica chose for me, and headed to the bathroom. On my way, I sent Jimmy a text to see if he was free to meet up with us. He was a good friend, and I was grateful to have wound up on his coffee line.
He answered back immediately to text him back with the plans, and he’d meet up with us. I smiled at my screen then my stomach twisted in knots when Jimmy’s message disappeared, and Beckham’s face flashed on my screen.
He hadn’t tried to call me yet, and just seeing his face frozen in a picture made me sick. He might not have lied to me directly, but his secret was inexcusable. He should’ve told me. I might not have understood, but it would’ve been better hearing it from him than being blindsided by my brother.
For a second, I thought about answering it. Despite what I knew now, I missed him. I couldn’t help it. Being with someone almost every day and falling in love with them? That’s not something you got over after a single cryfest. No, it would take time. I just hoped it didn’t take an eternity.
I swiped the phone to dismiss the call, and headed into the bathroom with half of my heartbroken, and the other half determined to put itself back together.
***
Going to the club seemed like a good idea in theory, but when we walked up, and I glanced down the alley where Beckham and I first had sex, I had to channel everything I had not to run away and right back to my bed.
“No line,” Jimmy said, tugging at the collar of his baby pink button up. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a Ralph Lauren ad. All preppy and perfect.
“That’s because it’s super early,” I said, looking toward the door where the bouncer was, with his eyes closed, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed. It was just after eight. People didn’t start showing up till at least nine. And, not to mention, there was the big fight going on downtown. If I wasn’t so fuming mad at my brother, I might’ve actually gone to watch it.
“It’s never too early to have fun,” Erica said, and took both our hands, guiding us to the entrance. “Besides, I think someone needs a shot.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said, as she dragged me toward the bar.
“I’m with Kennedy on this one. The last time she was here doing shots, she wound up passed out in my bed.”
“And you were such a gentleman about it. It’s such a shame you’re gay. You’re one of the good ones.”
Jimmy laughed and side hugged me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Right back at you.”
Erica ordered three shots, despite our objections, and handed them out to us. She held her little glass up. “To fun,” she said.
“To fun,” Jimmy and I repeated. I tilted my head and let the liquid burn a path down my throat. The burn took over, giving me a confidence booster. I was ready to put all the crap behind me and have fun. “Who wants to dance?” I asked.
“Girl, that is what I’m talking about!” Erica followed me out onto the dance floor, and Jimmy stood back at the bar, talking to a cute guy.
There was no DJ yet, but Erica and I danced to the bartender’s playlist like there was. She took my hand, and I did a cute little turn. As I was coming back to her, my eyes landed on the door, and I stopped mid dance move.
Beckham walked into the club, his hair pulled back in his signature man bun, his hazel eyes full of determination. His white t-shirt was pulled tight across his strong chest, and I hated myself for remembering how good it felt to be pressed against it.
He moved with intent as his gaze roamed across the bar and then to the dance floor. His lip curved up into a sexy smile when he spotted me. How’d he know I was here?
My heart raced, and I scoped out my exit routes. I wasn’t ready to face him. I needed more time. More alcohol.
With each step, he grew closer and my resolve to run from him faded. It had been a long day, and all I wanted to do was run right into his arms, and have him hold me, brush my hair out of my face, and tell me he loved me. But then I remembered the reason for our parting and all those happy thoughts were crushed into tiny miserable pieces.
He didn’t stop until he was right in front of me. “Beckham,” I managed, but before I could say another word, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, and he crushed his lips to mine.
I pushed at his chest, but he wrapped his arm around me, and held me tight to his chest.
I didn’t resist any longer. I should have, but the feel of his lips on mine was the best thing I felt all day. It was better than any amount of liquor. A moan slipped from my mouth, and he parted his lips, sliding his tongue against mine in a slick sexy dance that I couldn’t unravel myself from him even if I wanted to.
No, I was putty in his hands as he took all that I would give him. His hand moved from my neck to my face along with the other until he was cupping both cheeks.
He pulled away then, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He drew me in once more and kissed me. It was the simplest of kisses, chaste and gentle, but it spread through me, sparking every nerve ending in my body to life. A fire built within me, and it became obvious that I needed Beckham as much as I did air.
He rested his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry, Kenny,” he whispered, his breath warm on my cheek.
Without his lips on mine, I could think straight. I wanted to forgive him. To get past this impossible bridge in our relationship, but I knew I couldn’t. The Beckham Fox I knew wouldn’t walk away from a child. It was clear then that the Beckham Fox I knew was the one I made up in my head. He wasn’t as perfect as I thought he was.
“And I’m sorry, too. I can’t do this,” I said, and stepped out of his hold.
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back to him. He brushed my hair away from my face and stared at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his. “Kennedy, please don’t walk away from me. Let me explain.”
I shook my head as tears pricked my eyes. I had to be strong. “There’s nothing to explain,” I said and before I lost the will, I walked away.
“Kennedy!” Beckham yelled, but I didn’t look back.
It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
Chapter 18
Beckham
My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen, shocked to see Jessica’s name pop up. She was the reason I was in this mess in the first place. I hadn’t spoken with her much since I moved across the country.
I answered before it went to voicemail. “Hey Jessica. How are you?”
“Becks, it’s good to hear your voice. I’m doing good.”
“How’s Maverick?”
“Adorable. He’s the happiest little kid. Always giggling. Doesn’t really cry much. I lucked out.”
“I wish you had more help. I could’ve stayed.”
“No. It was better you left when you did. Things would’ve got messy if you didn’t. Besides, my mom moved up here. She’s helping out, so I can continue to go to school.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
The line went silent for a few moments. “Becks,” Jessica finally said. “I just wanted to say thank you. What you did for me…”
“Don’t mention it.”
“You’re a good man. I miss having you around.”
Before I left, Jessica and I were good friends. We had a few classes together and hit it off. She was like hanging out with one of the guys and I enjoyed her company. I hadn’t thought about her much since I left, but now I realized I missed her, too.
“Just because I’m on the other side of the country doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. Call me whenever you want. And text me a picture of the boy. I want to see if he has my eyes,” I joked.
“Lucky for me, he has my eyes. It would be too hard to look into them every day if he didn’t. You know?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll l
et you get back to whatever you were doing because I’m sure it was better than cleaning up spit up. Take care of yourself, Becks. You deserve to be happy.”
“You do, too. Now, send me a picture.”
“I will.”
I hung up the phone and tossed it on my dresser. So much had changed since we first met freshman year. She had all these big dreams and goals, and would talk about them for hours. All I wanted to do was get drunk. Me, her and Nix always had a good time though. Then, life happened and everything changed.
My phone buzzed, and I picked it back up. Jessica sent me a picture. I tapped into the messages, and a little baby boy was staring back at me.
He might have had Jessica’s eyes, but he looked just like his father.
Chapter 19
Beckham
I hadn’t fully recovered from Kennedy’s rejection, but I couldn’t continue to sit around and do nothing. If she would just hear me out, we could clear everything up, and go back to being together. But the damn stubborn girl kept walking away before I could get it all out.
Granted at the club, I went for a more aggressive approach. Though when I saw her dancing around in that tight skirt and low-cut top, my dick took over. I wanted her more than I ever wanted anything in my life. Even if it was only for a second, a quick moment in time, I needed to taste her.
“All I’m saying is if you went with talking instead of slamming your tongue down her throat, we might not be having this conversation,” Jimmy said, as he filled up a customer’s coffee and handed it over. He had been my ally in this whole mess. Even texted me when he was at the club with Kennedy.
He was right. I knew this. But if I could go back and change my approach, I wouldn’t. I had no regrets. Feeling her skin beneath my hands, her lips against my mouth, hearing that soft moan slip from her, it gave me exactly what I needed to know. She still loved me.
“Well, I didn’t. So, now I need a new game plan.”
“You need to talk to her. So, you just need to get her somewhere where she can’t run, and she has no choice but to hear you out.”