Takedown (A Fighting Love novel Book 3)

by Nikki Ash

  Once he’s put both girls to bed, he comes back down to the living room and leans against the wall. When he notices my long face, he says, “That guy was a dick. I wouldn’t let a bad date with him get you down.”

  “It’s not him.” I shake my head and take a deep breath.

  “Then what is it?”

  I almost consider telling Mason what’s going on with me but then I remember who I’m talking to. The king of players. He would never understand. After all, everything I’m looking for in a relationship are all of the very same things Mason repels.

  “It’s nothing a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie won’t cure.” I grab the ice cream from the freezer then sit on the sofa, grabbing my throw blanket from the back. “You’re more than welcome to go. I got the girls covered.” I click off the Disney movie and search for something to watch.

  When I stop on the movie Valentine’s Day, Mason chuckles. “That movie’s hilarious!” He sits down on the sofa next to me. I almost ask him what he’s doing but then I wonder if maybe he’s not leaving because he has nowhere to go. Tristan and Charlie are planning to spend the night at Tristan’s condo, which is why Mason came over here to watch the girls.

  Without thinking, I offer Mason a spoonful of my brownie covered ice cream and he grins, opening his mouth.

  “That’s some good shit.” He snatches the spoon from me and takes another bite.

  “Hell yes, it is. It’s a staple in my house.”

  “I’d have to spend an extra two hours a day on the treadmill if Tristan kept this at our place.”

  “Oh!” I slap his chest playfully. “Now you’re ruining it. I pretend like it’s good for me, so I can eat it guilt-free.”

  Mason chuckles, sticking the spoon into the container and giving himself another bite.

  “And how do you convince yourself this is healthy?”

  “Simple.” I shrug. “Chocolate comes from cocoa, which comes from a tree. That makes it a plant. I’m practically eating a salad. Everybody knows that.” I giggle, and Mason laughs, taking another bite.

  “Hey! You stole my spoon and you’re not even sharing.” I elbow him in the ribs.

  “Here.” He spoons up another bite then brings it up to my lips. I take the ice cream without looking at it and it’s a huge bite! It barely fits in my mouth, and I have to stop myself from laughing. Mason’s eyes zero in on my lips and I feel my cheeks heat up. I swallow the ice cream down as Mason leans into me. His soft, cold lips press against mine and I sigh into the kiss as I part my lips, his tongue pushing into my mouth and swirling around.

  Too quickly he pulls back, his face a mixture of remorse and pain. “I’m sorry. Shit, that shouldn’t have happened.”

  Ignoring the swarm of butterflies I feel in my belly for the first time in I don’t know how long, I agree. “Let’s chalk it up to being drunk on chocolate.”

  “You mean salad?” He grins.

  “Yes!” I laugh as I grab the spoon back from Mason and take another bite. He backs up slightly but doesn’t leave, and we watch the movie while sharing chocolate brownie ice cream in silence.

  At some point we both must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing I know I’m being woken up by two very awake little girls, who are singing a song about kissing in a tree. I open my eyes, my neck stiff from sleeping on the arm of the couch and see Mason sleeping with his head on my belly and his legs dangling off the sofa.

  There’s a knock on the door, and I move him carefully so I can answer it. His head falls onto the pillow but he doesn’t wake up.

  “C’mon, girls,” I whisper, “Let’s answer the door and let Uncle Mason sleep.” When I open the door, it’s Gavin and Alec.

  “Morning!” Gavin announces, walking in like he always does before I can stop him. When he gets into the foyer, which is so small you can see the living room, he notices a sleeping Mason on my couch. “Um…did you know you have a guy sleeping on your couch…and he looks to be twice the size of it?” Gavin jokes.

  “Mason’s here!” Alec screams excitedly, and Mason jolts awake.

  “Oh, damn! Mason Street is here?” Gavin asks and I roll my eyes. Of course my ex-husband is a UFC fan just like my son. Mason sits up and it takes him a second to remember where he is.

  “Hey man! My name is Gavin. I’m Alec’s dad.” Mason darts his eyes from Gavin, to Alec, to me. “I didn’t know Mila was dating you! It’s great to meet you.” Mason raises a brow, confusion marring his face.

  “Oh, no!” I say before Mason can respond. “We’re not dating. Remember, I told you a while back that he’s Tristan’s best friend and roommate.”

  “Ahh…gotcha. Sorry.”

  Mason stands and shakes Gavin’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Dad! I want to take classes at the gym Mason goes to. Can I? Please!”

  “I don’t see why not. I’ll have your mom send me a schedule and we’ll take a look.” Gavin smiles warmly at our son.

  “Alec, Georgia, Lexi, why don’t you guys go play in Alec’s room?”

  “Okay!” the three kids shout, and I wait until they’re down the hall before I glare at Gavin.

  “Why would you say yes without speaking to me first? It’s expensive, and you know I have to pay half. Charlie is moving out in a couple weeks and I still have to find a roommate.”

  “Mila, breathe.” Gavin puts his hands on my shoulders. “We’ll handle it like we always do, and if need be, I’ll pay for it and you can pay me back when you can.” He turns toward Mason, who I forgot was in the room. “It was nice meeting you.”

  Mason’s gaze darts from me to Gavin. “You too.”

  Gavin leans down and kisses my cheek. “See ya, Mila…and remember…breathe.”

  When he leaves, Mason is the first to speak. “That’s your…ex-husband?”

  “Yeah, he drives me insane. He knows I don’t like to owe him money.” I let out a sigh.

  “The guy just kissed you.”

  “We’re still friends.” I shrug. “He’s a good guy, just not the guy for me.”

  My phone buzzes, and it’s a text from Charlie asking me to meet her and Tristan at the gym-slash-art studio.

  “Kids,” I yell down the hall. “We’re going to the gym and art studio. Get ready to go.”

  “I better go as well,” Mason says. “I need to go home and change and head to the gym to train.” I take a second to check him out. He’s wearing his same clothes from last night but his hair is tousled from sleep, giving it that just fucked look. His eyes are a bit hooded over from just waking up and his lips are glossy from him licking them. Mason in the morning is hot.

  “But it’s Sunday,” I say, trying my best to focus on something else besides his body.

  “I like to train on Sundays because it’s quieter,” he points out.

  “Okay, well maybe I’ll see you over there.”

  “Yeah.”

  Mason leaves, and I get dressed, refusing to think about the kiss we shared last night and how it was the first time in years that my body felt something. I thought when I finally felt those butterflies it would mean I met my forever. Damn my traitorous body. Doesn’t it know I’m looking for a forever, not a for-now? Well, apparently, it doesn’t care.

  Ten

  Mason

  My fists are swinging and connecting perfectly. My feet are shuffling like they’re supposed to. My body is ducking and weaving like I’ve been trained to do. But it’s all robotic, instinctual and routine. My mind isn’t on my training. I’m not visualizing Tristan like he’s my opponent. My moves are completely mechanical and unemotional. Because every time I try to get my head in the game, my brain goes back to last night with Mila. My lips brushing up against hers. The way she softly moaned into my mouth. It was only for a brief moment but it was like nothing I’ve ever felt. When I kiss it’s to connect sexually with a woman. Kissing and fucking come together in one sexually charged package. But last night when I kissed Mila—when my tongue dove into her sw
eet mouth, it was more than sexual and it scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

  Then this morning, I overheard her ex-husband and her talking about Alec signing up for MMA classes. Her ex is nice. I’ve never met two people who are divorced and actually get along. He told her it would be okay and that he would lend her the money if she needed him to. He reminds me a lot of Tristan. But what got me wasn’t their conversation, but his actions—or more importantly, my reaction to his actions. When I saw his lips graze her cheek, everything in me wanted to tell him to back the fuck off. He had his chance to make her happy and he obviously failed. The only thing that kept me from saying a word was the realization that if I was given the chance, I would fail her as well.

  Tristan and I continue fighting: he punches, I block. I punch, he blocks. Then, in my peripheral vision I see Mila. Only she isn’t alone. She’s talking to Isaac, another fighter whose ass I kicked a couple months back when his dumbass got pissed over a woman he liked who I ended up hooking up with. Isaac is speaking all animatedly, waving his hands in the air and Mila’s laughing, and then…his fuck-ass lays his hand on her shoulder. She smiles up at him and nods, and I consider breaking his hand so he’s incapable of touching her again.

  I don’t even see it coming because my head is all fucked up—Mila has me all fucked up—Tristan bends down, grabs the backs of my knees and throws me to the ground. He’s on me before I can even make my move, straddling my waist and pulling my arm back into an arm bar. I’m tapping the fuck out before I can even comprehend what just happened.

  “Where the hell are you?” He stands up and glares at me. “You have a fight in a few months and I’m taking you down?”

  “Let me have a go at him!” Isaac laughs and walks toward me. Mother fucker wants to show off…sounds good to me. I’ll whoop his ass for a second time.

  “Nope! Not happening.” Tristan steps in between us. “I can see the look on your face,” he says to me. “Go, walk it off.”

  “I’m good. I need the practice and Isaac is offering.” I shrug but Tristan is shaking his head. Asshole knows me too damn well.

  “That’s a negative. Isaac, go run or something.” Tristan waves him off. Isaac puts his palms up in surrender but when he turns to walk away, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he heads back towards Mila.

  As I head toward the two of them, Tristan steps in my way. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “The guy is a player! Mila deserves better than him.” I point at Isaac, and Tristan chuckles.

  “And who does she deserve, exactly? You?” Tristan raises a brow, and I know he’s got me there.

  “Whatever…When she gets her heart broken by him, I won’t say I told you so.” I stalk off the main floor and over to the treadmill. I turn the speed up until I’m jogging and stick my ear buds in my ears, focusing my attention on the hanging televisions and not on the two people to the right of me still talking and flirting. I mean, what the fuck! This is a gym, not a social club.

  Alec comes over and joins me, so I take my earbud out of one ear. “Hey Bruiser, what’s up?”

  “My mom is signing me up for classes.”

  “Nice!” I fist bump him. “Evan teaches your class, and he’s awesome.”

  “Yeah.” Alec shrugs. “But can I still train with you sometimes?”

  “Of course!”

  “Alec,” Mila calls. “We need to go! I have someone coming by to look at the house.”

  “Coming!” he yells to his mom before he says to me, “I hope the guy that moves in likes to play video games. Georgia likes to play with dolls.” He scrunches his nose up in disgust. “Bye, Mason!” he calls out, running toward his mom.

  I watch them both leave before I yell for Tristan to come over here. “Mila’s having a guy move into her house?”

  “I’m not sure. I know she put an ad online but I don’t know the specifics. Charlie feels bad because Mila can’t afford the house on her own and live comfortably. I’m hoping she finds someone soon, otherwise Charlie might not move out because she doesn’t want to leave her friend hanging.”

  “Hmm…” I think about this for a moment, considering the fact that I need to find a place to live, but quickly disregard that idea. Mila and I living together would be the equivalent of two semis coming at each other full speed with broken brakes. Inevitable destruction for everybody involved.

  Jake walks in and gives me a head nod, and that’s when I remember about the upcoming fight some of the fighters from this gym, including Jake, are in. “Oh! Hey, I was thinking of asking Mila if I can bring Alec to the UFC fight that’s happening next month since it’s only a couple hours away in San Diego. Do we have extra tickets?”

  Tristan smiles. “Sure. I’ll be away on my honeymoon with my girls, so there will be extra tickets. We’re all going to have dinner at Mila’s tomorrow night. Why don’t you join and ask her then?”

  “All right.”

  “Damn, Mila! You can cook.” Tristan sits back in his chair and pats his non-existent stomach dramatically.

  “Thanks! I love cooking; I just never had the time to before. Now that I’m working a normal schedule I feel like I’ve added hours to my day. Plus, having weekends off. It’s amazing.”

  “Can we go play?” Georgia asks, and Charlie nods.

  “Go ahead, but only for an hour and then it’s time for a bath and bed. Lexi and Alec have school tomorrow.”

  “Can I go to school too?” Georgia asks excitedly.

  “We’ll see. I would miss you like crazy.” Charlie grabs her daughter and pulls her in for a quick hug before Georgia wriggles outs and runs away giggling, following the other two kids down the hall.

  “I’m going to have to sign her up for preschool soon.” Charlie frowns. “I know I can’t keep her with me forever but I feel like I just got her back.”

  “Sign her up once we get back from our honeymoon,” Tristan suggests. “That will give you some more time with her.” He leans over and kisses his fiancée, and when I look at Mila, I can practically see the hearts shooting out of her eyes from watching their interaction.

  Not able to watch the lovefest another minute, I stand to clear the table, but Mila stands as well and tries to stop me. “You don’t need to do that.” She reaches to take the dirty dishes from my hands. “You’re a guest.”

  “You cook, I clean,” I insist.

  “Okay, thanks! So, while you’re all here, we should discuss the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party.” Mila follows me into the kitchen, Tristan and Charlie following behind.

  “I don’t want one,” Tristan says.

  “What? You have to have one!” Charlie insists. “It’s like a rite of passage or something.” Tristan shakes his head as he pulls her into his arms. “I’m not going out with this fool”—he nods toward me—“to some strip club when I could be home with you. Not happening.”

  “What if we did a joint one?” Mila suggests. “We could do a spa day and then we all go out together.”

  “I like it!” Charlie grins.

  “All right,” Tristan concedes, grabbing the dishes from the counter to start washing them.

  “Good! Mason and I can plan it.” There’s a knock on the door. “Oh! That must be Albert. He’s here to see the place. Hopefully he’s better than the guy yesterday.” She scurries to the front door, and I follow her like a moth to a flame. When she swings open the door, standing there is what looks like a flashback to the ‘70s. The guy is wearing an AC/DC shirt that looks like it was literally made over forty years ago when the band was first formed. He’s sporting some thick black-rimmed glasses and is wearing corduroy pants. The guy looks like the poster boy for That ‘70s Show, and I’m not talking Ashton Kutcher here.

  “Hi! My name is Mila. You must be Albert.” She puts her hand out, and he reluctantly takes it while kind of glaring at her.

  “I am.” He nods and glances my way.

  “Come in.” She ushers him inside and makes introductions. She starts explaining to him
about the place, the neighborhood, how many bedrooms and bathrooms the home has, and then she says, “I’m a single mom, so it’s just me and my son living here.”

  “I don’t babysit.”

  “What?” She looks at him, shocked.

  “I don’t babysit kids. Don’t ever ask me to watch him.”

  “Oh, no. I would never ask that.” She guides him up the stairs, and I trail behind, keeping my distance. “This would be your room.” The townhome is designed with the master bedroom—and attached bathroom—on the first floor along with a second bedroom, which is Alec’s. There’s a guest bathroom Alec and anyone visiting uses. Upstairs is the third bathroom and bedroom.

  “Can I put a deadbolt on it…to ensure nobody comes in?”

  “Um…sure. I don’t see why not.” I can’t see Mila’s face, but I can hear the tightness in her voice. They come back down and she shows him the rest of the house. When they get back out to the living room, she says, “What do you think?”

  “I think this place could work.” He nods absently, looking around.

  “You know what? We actually have someone else coming to take a look at the place,” I jump in. Mila glares at me, but I ignore her. “We’ll get back to you.” I practically push him out the door before closing and locking it. Then I turn toward Mila. “Are you insane? Where did you find that guy?”

  “Craigslist! I can’t believe you just kicked him out. Do you know how hard it is to find a roommate?” She stalks toward me and I throw my hands up in the air.

  “Have you never heard of the Craigslist killer?! They made the movie for a reason!”

  “Oh my god, Mason! You can’t be serious,” she yells, right in my face. She’s so close, if I leaned down I could place my lips right on hers…Fuck! Focus Mason!