Bad Boy Brit (A British Bad Boy Romance)

by Daire, Caitlin

  It was. It had to be.

  He’d grown up to be mouth-wateringly handsome with abs that could render even the staunchest woman senseless with her panties on the floor in a puddle, but those eyes were the same—crystal blue and no longer hidden behind thick lenses.

  He’d been twenty-three back then, and according to that newscast, he’d apparently just become the youngest MMA fighting champion in the country in his weight category. My initial reaction at that announcement had been total and utter shock. Kaiden, the geeky little boy from next door who’d always loved math and reading, had become a frickin’ MMA fighter?

  Weird as hell, but pretty cool once I thought about it. Watching people beat each other up was certainly not my scene, but if Kaiden had found his passion and become amazing at it, then I was proud of him.

  I’d almost tried tracking him down and sending him a quick message to see if he still remembered me, and to let him know I was happy for him, but when I’d typed his name into an internet search engine, I’d realized just how much he’d changed in the last decade and decided against it.

  It wasn’t just his looks and height that had changed.

  From all the photos and articles about him online, it seemed rather apparent that his personality had drastically altered as well. He was a reckless bar-hopper, arrogant man-whore, and a hotheaded troublemaker who’d found himself on the wrong side of the law more than once—all of those things rolled into one perfectly-muscled, golden-tanned six foot four frame.

  To be honest, I’d been too nervous to try and contact him after I’d seen all that, because I hadn’t changed as much as he had since I was a child. I was still just as much of a geek as I’d always been, although I managed to hide that fact somewhat with the help of my best friend Alexa, who took me clothes shopping every six months and acted as my personal stylist. I’d also scored a job straight out of college which apparently ranked quite highly on the ‘cool-meter’—an assistant social media director’s position at a PR firm in L.A. That coupled with my improved dress sense had built up my self-esteem over the last couple of years, but not enough to give me the confidence to contact Kaiden now that I knew what he’d become.

  He probably wouldn’t even remember me, anyway.

  In the eighteen months since he’d come back onto my radar, nothing seemed to have changed with him other than the fact that he was even more famous now…and not only for his MMA career. He was still an amazing fighter, but apparently, he was even more amazing at picking up women. I couldn’t count how many actresses, models and socialites he’d supposedly bedded now, according to the gossip blogs.

  Probably a trillion.

  Nowadays, I wouldn’t have wanted to contact him even if I had all the confidence in the world. He’d become the exact kind of guy I’d tried so hard to stay away from all my life, and up until now, I’d been successful at that. My parents had divorced because my father had cheated on my mother with three different women, so the last thing I ever wanted to do was associate with a man-whorish guy who had a looser set of morals than a drunken pirate.

  Too bad that exact guy had fallen right into my lap thirty seconds ago in the form of a new client.

  I realized I’d been silent for far too long, and I squeaked out a question to Eric. “So…are you sure you want me to take him on as a client?” I said. “I mean, he’s uber-famous. I know I’ve handled quite a few celebrity clients, but not at this level. The guy is in the gossip columns twice a day!”

  Eric nodded. “There’s a reason I made you my assistant director of social media and marketing when you first came here, Riley. You’re damn good at it, and you’re good at keeping to yourself and staying out of the spotlight while letting it shine on our clients. I can’t count the number of PR agents I’ve gone through who’ve done nothing but use their job to push their own agenda of being famous. But you’re not like that. You’re…”

  A shy mouse. A homebody. A nerd complete with a big L on her forehead. That’s probably what he wanted to say as his voice trailed off.

  “Reliable, and you don’t screw around,” he finally finished. “I honestly think you’re ready for such a high-profile client, and you have been for quite some time.”

  I nodded. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up, as much as I didn’t want to represent Kaiden. God, it would be awkward. What would I even say to him when we finally met again after all this time? I could picture it now. ‘Hi, Kaiden, it’s me…we used to ride bikes together, and now I have to protect your media image while you let every woman in town ride you.’

  Every woman but me.

  Even though I couldn’t stand the sort of guy Kaiden had become in his adult years, I couldn’t deny the flush of heat I felt every time his face showed up on my computer screen, and I couldn’t deny the way my heart raced when I saw that famous megawatt grin flashing at me from the TV screen. When we were kids, we’d made each other soaking wet by playing in puddles after storms, and now he could make my panties soaking wet from a simple print photograph of him in a gossip rag.

  Amazing how puberty, hormones and thirteen years could change things.

  I wasn’t going to let it change my attitude to work, however. Public relations might not have been my dream job in life, but it was always interesting, paid the bills, and most of all, I was a professional. I wasn’t the usual type of person who you’d imagine working in PR, but I was good at my job, and I always tried to do it well.

  I straightened my shoulders and smiled at Eric. “Thank you, Eric. That means a lot to me. I’m glad you trust me enough to—”

  He waved his hand at me, cutting me off. “Oh, come on. I don’t need a big speech from you,” he said with a wink. “Just do the damn job and make me proud.”

  My face flushed, and I caught a glimpse of one of my coworkers casting a jealous stare at me. She probably wished she’d received Kaiden as a client instead, and honestly, I would’ve been happy to hand him off to her if Eric hadn’t been so dead-set on giving him to me.

  “So why did he come to our agency?” I asked.

  “Well, his current PR people are morons, and like you said, he’s in the gossip columns twice a day. His manager is sick of it, the UFC administration is sick of it, and well…let’s just say that this time, he’s gotten himself into even more trouble than usual,” Eric replied.

  “Drugs?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. With the kind of muscles he had, I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if Kaiden was secretly on steroids.

  Eric shook his head. “No. You know Serra Silver?”

  I frowned. The name sounded familiar, and I racked my brains until I recalled the blonde B-list actress from an afternoon TV soap my best friend loved. “The actress from Meadowlands?”

  He nodded. “Uh-huh. Well, apparently she had a one night stand with Mr. Cross, and yesterday afternoon she started shopping around a story saying she’s pregnant with his child. He’s denying the whole thing and saying it’s not his kid, and as you can imagine, that’s already driving a few gossip sites crazy. So it’s our job to manage the scandal as it breaks.”

  So the tattooed troublemaker had knocked up a bleached-blonde starlet. Color me unsurprised.

  God, when had he changed so much? How the hell had this guy once been my best friend? It was like aliens had abducted him and given him a lobotomy.

  “So when do I see him again?” I asked.

  Eric arched an eyebrow. “Again?”

  “Er, I mean, when do I see him?” I said, quickly realizing what I’d said. “Is he coming into the office?”

  “Actually, no. He’s apparently busy all day getting ready for some big fight tonight— against Mac Brydie, I believe—so I thought it might be a good idea to do this.”

  He pulled out a ticket from his pocket with a flourish and put it on my desk. “That’s a front-row ticket to the fight tonight. You’ll be able to watch the fight, get to know exactly what his career is all about, what his fans are like, and so on. Could be helpful. Then you�
�ll speak to him and fill him in on what you’re going to be doing for his career after the fight, once he’s done signing autographs. Sound good?”

  Sounds horrible. “Sure,” I said, forcing a smile.

  I guess it never hurt to try new things, and Eric was right. Going to one of these MMA fights would be a good way to get to know the ins and outs of Kaiden’s career, which would certainly help me in my job whilst I was representing him.

  “The fight starts at nine. I’ll warn you now—it’s very loud in those places.”

  My lips turned up slightly at the corners with amusement. “Yes, I can imagine,” I said. ‘Very loud’ was probably an understatement.

  “Anyway, you’ll probably be out late, so come into the office late tomorrow if you want. And trust me, you will want to. I’ve been to one of those fights before. Left me with a pounding headache, so you’ll probably need some time to sleep in and get over it.”

  Oh, I was going to need a lot more than sleep to get over the job I’d just been given…

  ***

  I stepped out of the Uber I’d caught to the converted warehouse where the fight was being held tonight. I thanked and waved to the driver before smoothing down my skirt and falling into step behind a group of young girls on the sidewalk ahead of me, obviously headed to the fight as well. They were dressed like they were going clubbing; tight crop tops, bandage skirts, sky-high heels and teased hair, and I glanced down at my own outfit, feeling a little underdressed. I had no idea people got so dressed up for MMA fights, but it was too late now. My cream-colored blouse, plain black skirt and black ballet flats would have to do.

  The girls stopped dead a moment later, and I almost ran right into them before managing to stop myself just in time. They’d stopped just outside the warehouse entrance, and they were staring up at it, entranced.

  “Are you sure, guys?” I heard one of them say, rubbing her arms as goose bumps cropped up.

  She wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Even from outside, I could hear the roar of the crowd inside, getting ready to watch two guys smash each other inside a cage. Not exactly my cup of tea, but each to their own, I guess. Besides, it wasn’t exactly the fight I was nervous about. It was the idea of seeing Kaiden again that made my heart pound.

  “Yes, Tiana, it’s basically like a party! It’s cool!” one of the other girls said to the first one, grabbing their tickets from her clutch purse as she spoke. She handed them to one of the door girls, and seconds later, the group was disappearing into the building, nervous girl included.

  The crowd got even louder as I stepped inside, as was to be expected. The sound was like a vibration in the air; everyone’s excitement being proclaimed as loudly as possible as they screeched and cheered, waiting for their favorite fighters to come out and wave from the stage surrounding the large cage in the center of the room before pummeling each other’s brains out.

  I had a front row ticket, and now that the door girl had stamped it, all I had to do was find my seat. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting once I stepped inside, but I’d at least thought there might be someone in here to show me exactly where seat 8A was.

  No such luck.

  I glanced helplessly around before figuring that it couldn’t be too hard to find a front row seat in here. Just find the first row, genius.

  Music started up, a heavy bass thumping and assaulting my senses in the massive dim space, and I carefully walked down the steps that ran down the center of one of the aisles leading towards the cage. The cage itself was in the shape of a octagon which appeared to be composed mostly of steel wire, and the wire looked sharp enough to cut any unlucky bastard who got thrown hard against it.

  My heart seemed to beat in sync with the music as I made my way to the front row, and as I looked around, I found myself actually smiling. There was something about being here amongst the sweaty crowd, dim lighting and grimy seats which made me feel….alive. I wasn’t usually an adrenaline junkie, but the hot rush of blood to my face I was experiencing right now felt good.

  The smile faded from my face only seconds later as I felt a large, callused hand groping my ass.

  Whirling around, I saw two tattooed guys leering at me from their seats. “Hey, sweetheart,” the one who’d grabbed me said, obviously mistaking my about-face for interest. “Why don’t you come sit with me? Gimme some brown sugar!”

  Was he freaking serious? Just…no.

  I crossed my arms. “Touch me like that again, and I’ll be more than happy to touch you back…with the can of mace I have in my handbag.”

  Okay, so that wasn’t the most intelligent or witty of comebacks, but this guy didn’t exactly look like a literary genius, so I doubt he’d noticed.

  He looked surprised at my words, and to be honest, I’d surprised myself a little. I wasn’t usually the type to stand up for myself so brazenly, but being in this atmosphere with all the adrenaline flowing through me had suddenly given me the urge to do so. And thank god, because the prick deserved it. I mean, brown sugar? Really?

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, and under his breath I heard him add, ‘bitch’.

  Whatever. I didn’t have time to care about what some random redneck asshole thought of me.

  I headed farther down the steps, and when I’d reached the front row, I saw that they were thankfully numbered; tiny inscriptions on the top of the chairs that I’d almost missed without my glasses on.

  I made my way to my seat just in time, because the music stopped a moment later, and a deep man’s voice came over the loudspeakers, announcing the arrival of the two fighters.

  The first was called Mac something-rather, and he stepped out onto the stage that ran around the edge of the cage, grinning as he flexed and fist-pumped at the whooping crowd. His lips curled into a grin as a girl quite literally threw her panties at him, and I took in his crooked nose, bright smile and tribal-inspired tattoos which coiled their way over his arms and biceps. Hmm…he was pretty hot, in a rough kinda way, but nowhere near as hot as Kaiden.

  Then again, these fights weren’t being judged on sexiness. This Mac guy looked like he could fight.

  The whole room practically vibrated from the clapping and screeching as Kaiden’s name was announced a few minutes later, and my heart leaped into my mouth as he stepped out onto the octagonal stage and did a slow lap around it, waving to the crowd and smirking at girls as they screamed and waved, begging for just one wink from him.

  God, he was even sexier in person.

  He grinned and flexed as he came to a standstill not far from me, his muscles rippling under his T-shirt and his tattoos dancing across his skin. My tongue was cactus dry as his gaze came to rest on me a second later, and for an elated second, I thought he actually recognized me. He seemed to be looking directly at me, those wicked blue eyes dancing over my face and cleavage, and I gave him a shy smile and wave before realizing he wasn’t looking at me at all.

  No, by now I’d realized he was looking at a pretty redheaded girl sitting one row behind me to the left. I’d nervously glanced away from Kaiden for a brief second, and that was when I’d seen her over my shoulder, lifting her shirt and flashing her breasts at him. I had to admit, they were nice breasts, complete with silver nipple rings to add some extra interest, but still…it stung more than I thought it would to realize Kaiden hadn’t even noticed me sitting right here.

  His gaze traveled back from the girl to me, and my stomach flipped with nervous excitement. Maybe he’d finally noticed me now? Nope. Once again, his eyes glazed over as they quickly swept right over me and then off to the side.

  Well, crap. I’d been right earlier.

  Kaiden Cross no longer had any idea who I was.

  Chapter 2

  Kaiden

  As I strutted around the stage like I owned the fucking joint—which to be fair, I practically did—I lapped up the screams and cheers. This was what made the fighting worth it for me; this was what I’d spent all these years doing it for. There was no better feel
ing than hundreds of people cheering for you and screaming your name. It just made the ego explode like nothing else ever could, and that’s exactly what it was doing to me in this moment.

  I threw my arms up above my head, riling up the crowd and drumming up the noise level. If my ears weren’t ringing for days after a fight, then I classed it as a shitty night.

  I acted like I was making eye contact with everyone, but really I was just scouting the arena for the hottest chicks. That was the other great thing about being as famous as I was. I could have anyone I wanted, and for a kid that was too geeky to get any female attention in my youth, it was like a fucking dream, and one that I’d taken full advantage of in the last few years. I may have been a late bloomer, but I’d more than made up the numbers since.

  I wasn’t too fussy about who I took to bed, either. I wanted to experience all sorts of different women—blonde, brunette, redheaded, busty, curvy, skinny…I loved them all, and luckily, they fucking loved me in return.

  As I gazed around, my eyes found someone who was oddly familiar, and I was struck by a strange sensation; sort of what I imagined it felt like to see a ghost. My heart leaped into my mouth, and my hands started to feel stiff and numb. I forced my eyes away because I didn’t want to be caught staring at her, but my brain was whirling, panicking and trying to confirm what I thought I’d seen. Or who I thought I’d seen, to be more specific.

  Riley Solis? No fucking way…

  I allowed myself to fixate on a perky pair of breasts that were being flashed my way. They were obviously fake and had nipple rings hanging from them, so I focused on the silver glint while I tried to make myself think straight about who I thought I’d seen in the front row. Surely someone like Riley wouldn’t be caught dead at a trashy MMA fight, unless she’d seriously changed since we were kids.

  Suddenly a conversation that I’d had only a few hours ago flashed in my mind.