Savor

by Xavier Neal

  “I can’t surprise him if I ask him where his fight is—”

  “Vegas.” Luke’s answer causes my eyebrows to dart up. When I look at him puzzled, he says, “He left some paperwork on the bar. It had the location of his first fight. Contact information for Jake. Simple shit. You should give Jake a call and see if he’ll help you figure something out.”

  My face twitches at the thought of seeing him in the next couple of weeks instead of some unknown, mysterious amount of time.

  I haven’t even spoken to him. He called me when he landed, but I was out. He left me a text, but when I texted him back earlier, all he said was that he was heading for training. Do you get the feeling that this is what our relationship is gonna turn into? Some weird ass version of text tag? I hated tag as a kid. Not only because I didn’t like running, but I didn’t like chasing. Please hold all “chasing Logan my entire life” comments to a minimum please.

  “Maybe…” I chew on my bottom lip for a sec. “Maybe I should take Dean with me. He misses Logan as much as I do.”

  “I know…believe me, I know.” Luke parks in one of the spaces for visitors outside Dean’s school. “Talking to him sometimes feels like a foreign language. I don’t know shit about space pirates. Or flesh eating viruses that aren’t real.”

  “Video games,” my voice giggles. “Just say you don’t know shit about video games.”

  “Yeah those.” He smiles back at me. “Why don’t you wait in the car, and I’ll go grab him?”

  I nod in agreement, feeling an unexpected rush of nausea.

  God, I hope this passes. Could you imagine the look on Luke’s face if he came back to see I’d upchucked in his very expensive leather shoulder bag that is nestled between my feet? Are you picturing something along the lines of mortified highlighted with sheer rage? Huh. Me too.

  Chapter 3

  Logan

  “That wraps up session one of the day,” Jake says, smirking like he was the one training me.

  Which he wasn’t. Walking around in a designer suit constantly on the fucking phone is not training. It’s annoying. And he reminds me of the ‘Can You Hear Me Now’ asshole the way he continuously asks the people on the other end of the phone how their connection is.

  I wipe the sweat off my forehead. “Session one? How many are there?”

  “Two-a-days this week. Two hours each. Next week, we will move onto two-a-days for three hours each. Your body needs to adjust—”

  “My body has no problem fucking adjusting.”

  Jake cocks a smirk and takes a step so he’s closer to my face.

  Close enough to nail him in his fucking teeth depending on what he has to say next.

  “I don’t doubt that, Kellar. But let me make this crystal clear for you. You’re not in the minors anymore. This isn’t about parading around in a ring while your girlfriend holds the sign. Consider yourself a lion fighting for territory. A lion fighting to be the king for lionesses to worship. This shit is bigger than stepping in the ring and believing you’re the best. I have money invested in you, Kellar, and I’m not gonna let you piss it away because your ego is as big as your dick probably is. You’re gonna do shit my way. You’re gonna listen when you’re told. You’re gonna follow every fucking rule and protocol I say. And then you’re gonna say at the end of the day, ‘Thanks, Jake. Can I have another?’ because you want this as bad as you’ve ever wanted anything else in your entire fucking life.” The arrogant asshole smiles again. “And in return for being so damn obedient, you get paid. And by paid, I don’t mean that under the table bullshit Frank fucks with, I mean more money from a single fight than some people see in their entire lives. You make a name for yourself. You carve out a spot to become a legend. And you start to make a future for that kid of yours you just brought home and that gorgeous girl you left behind.”

  Before I can make a move, his cell phone rings again and he steps away to answer it.

  Every bone in my fist is aching to shove itself through his rib cage.

  “He’s always like that. Don’t feel special,” a soft voice says over my shoulder.

  Turning around, I see a leggy blonde bombshell, with perfectly bleached hair, tanned skin, and manicured nails. Cloaked in a short designer gray dress and a pair of stiletto heels, she looks like what Liz aspires to be.

  Stop giving me that look. Of course, I haven’t slept with her. I don’t even fucking know her. New city, remember? What do you mean you wouldn’t be surprised if I had? Where’s the love here?

  “Lacey Green, but everyone calls me LC.” She extends her free hand for me to shake. “I’m one of Jake’s assistants, but more importantly now I’m yours.”

  Anyone else got a bad feeling about this? Is that just fucking indigestion? Had the weirdest breakfast tacos this morning. Who the fuck puts cranberries in a breakfast taco?

  “There’re four of us total. One for every fighter he represents, and one he keeps for himself. Consider me your personal everything.” The last word falls off her tongue very slowly, which is surprising considering how fast the rest of the words rushed out.

  Don’t say it. Don’t even fucking think it. I’m not gonna cheat on Maxx. Fuck, can a guy get a little credit please?

  Skeptical, I nod while shaking her hand. “Kellar.”

  “Logan.”

  Immediately after the handshake is over I correct her. “You can call me Kellar. Or Unbreakable. Your choice.”

  Her green eyes twinkle like she sees a challenge in me.

  I would know. I’ve had that look.

  “Kellar it is then. For now, anyway.” Checking her phone, she smiles brightly. “Now that your session with Dominic is over, we’re going to swing by and grab you an after workout shake before heading to your massage appointment. Follow me, please.”

  Confused, I do as she instructs and wrap the towel around the back of my neck. “What do you mean massage appointment?”

  “For your muscles. It comes after a small sit in the sauna. One of the many things Jake has done for his fighters. Very unique, quiet spa. Almost no cameras or chances to be found by the paparazzi.”

  “Why would—”

  “You’re going to be a big deal, Kellar. Hell, you’re actually a pretty big deal right now. You already have an amazing following, and the press wants to bite at you already. It’s insane! I’ve never seen anything like it. Besides the fact you look like a male model on steroids, I now see exactly why Jake had to have you. Anyway, you’ll thank Jake for all the precautions he takes later. Left.” She points directing us to get on a set of elevators. “Let me give you a quick rundown of what to expect, shall I?”

  Am I the only one here who’s wondering if she even breathes between fucking sentences?

  Without waiting for a response she continues, the sound of her heels now echoing through the parking garage. “I will be relocating you from the hotel to your new one bedroom apartment that is ready. Lucky for you, it is within walking distance of the gym as well as a few minor hot spots in the city. If you ever need assistance, whether it be driving you to the bank or taking you to the strip club, do not hesitate to call.”

  Strip joint? Well, now that she mentioned it…oh come on. It’s gonna get lonely. What? You don’t find that funny? Not even a little? You’re losing your sense of humor, you know that?

  “Eventually, we’ll have your vehicle transported here or you can buy a new one or rent one, but, in the meantime, consider me your personal everything…” The word lingers around again.

  Shoving my hands in my gym shorts, I sigh, “You mentioned that already.”

  She gives me a quick look before sliding the sunglasses, which are in her hair, down over her eyes. “You are on a two-a-day schedule right now. Early morning sessions with Dominic followed by your private massage with Ashley, a small pre-planned lunch, two hours of down time, and then an afternoon session with Kristoffer. Spelled with a K and two fs, not be confused with his cousin Christopher spelled with a C and a ph.”
>
  I don’t…I don’t fucking know what to do with that information.

  “Evenings are often free for you to fill your time with whatever activities you see fit. However, please be aware that is subject to change with photo shoots, interviews, and other social responsibilities. Also, please be aware that sometimes instead of a lunch break, you may be filled in there as well.” Stopping at the corner, in front of a building that looks a little sketchy from the outside, her mouth continues to run to the point where I fear it might fall off. “You should also know that weekly grooming maintenance is required—”

  “Grooming maintenance? I’m not a fucking poodle.”

  “No.” Her eyes roam over my body. “Far from it.” When her tongue touches her lips, for the first time ever, I feel uncomfortable.

  Look, I don’t mind being drooled over. Speaking of, wipe yours away, but I have to fucking work with this woman. From what it sounds like, I’m gonna see her at the same rate I’m used to seeing Maxx. Having her give me those ‘come fuck me eyes’ in her ‘come fuck me’ shoes isn’t gonna end well. For anyone.

  “Jake requires his fighters to not only be good in the ring but look it as well. You can stand here and fight, moan, groan, and stomp your feet, but, fact of the matter is, it’s in your contract. You’ll do it. It’s simple. Now, I had the girl deliver your protein shake straight here, since there’s probably about a ten minute wait before your appointment. Shall we?”

  I wave my hand for her to go ahead, a new feeling of dread washing over me.

  What exactly did I sign myself up for?

  Chapter 4

  Maxx

  You ever get nervous waiting for the doctor? There’s just something about the long wait to be informed of what is wrong with you or told what you need to do better for your health that makes my hands shake. Sometimes, I think it’s because of how shitty everything ended up with Dad. The added ugliness of this gown damn sure isn’t helping the matter. Why does it have to open in the back like some sort of unfinished straight jacket?

  “Can we come back in?” Dean’s voice calls from behind the closed door.

  “Yeah. Come on,” I reply.

  Luke and Dean enter my exam room together both smiling like they’ve just won some sort of weird ass lottery.

  How is it that everyone else is super excited about me being knocked up? 10 bucks says Luke would flip his shit if he had to carry around a baby and ruin his washboard abs, his shrine to the importance of proper eating and working out.

  “Stop looking so nervous, Maxx,” Luke scolds standing beside me. “It’s not gonna be that bad.”

  “I’m not nervous. I’m upset.”

  “Why are you upset?”

  “Because I wanted to stop for ice cream, and you vetoed me.”

  I can’t help it. I eat when I’m nervous. I know I just said I wasn’t but shh. He doesn’t need to know I’m terrified that the doctor is gonna walk in with three horns, a bull ring between her nostrils, and a devil tail hanging out of her pants. Did I mention I really don’t like doctors?

  “After. I told you after. I swear the Kid has more patience than you sometimes,” he mumbles before moving his scolding on to Dean. With a heavy sigh he questions, “What are you doing?”

  “Look. It looks like a duck. Quack. Quack,” he laughs playing with one of the tools in the room.

  I don’t have the heart to tell him what that is.

  “Do you have any idea what that is used for?” Luke slides one hand in his pocket, the fatherly tone rising in his voice.

  Suddenly, Dean cocks another grin, his smile almost a carbon copy of Logan’s, so close in fact it hurts to look at. “I’m guessing it’s not for making duck puppets.”

  “They stick that in the same place that you’re so desperately trying to stick your penis.” As soon as Dean’s face begins to frown, Luke finishes with, “And then they crank it open and—”

  “Okay! Okay!” He puts it back down and shudders. “I get it.”

  “It’s a doctor’s office, Kid, not a toy store. However, with you, much like Kellar, it seems you need to be reminded that the rules are the same. Keep your hands to yourself.” Luke pauses as if having a secondary thought. “At least I don’t have to remind you that means with the nurses and doctors, too.”

  Wow. Sometimes I forget just how slutty Logan used to be. Yeah I said used to be. I have faith that he’s gonna keep it in his pants. Okay fine, I don’t, but I am working on it. Fine! I will work on it.

  “How do you know this doctor is any good?” I try to change the subject away from my man whore boyfriend.

  Ha. He is my boyfriend. We did establish that much. Remember when we hadn’t? Feels like so long ago. What do you mean it was just a few weeks ago? Way to take away from the sentimental moment.

  “Because Michael—”

  “Who’s Michael?”

  “The Kid’s doctor.”

  “I thought his name was Doctor Flynn.” Dean looks confused.

  “It is. His first name is Michael—”

  “Why are you on a first name basis with my doctor?”

  “Why do you ask so many questions?”

  A random wave of exhaustion hits me, and I yawn. “Because he’s 15, Luke.”

  Am I the only one who thinks a nap would be really good right now?

  “But I will say I’m with the Kid on this one. Why are you on a first name basis with his doctor?”

  “We’ve worked together in the past.” The answer emerges, but his attention that’s focused on the ground does not.

  I know that sign! I know that look!

  “You slept with the Kid’s doctor?”

  “You banged my doctor?” Dean looks amused.

  “No. No!” He clears his throat, eyes now on both of us. “I…I shouldn’t have to explain myself.”

  “Then I’m going to assume you’re lying and banged my doctor like the drum at a rock concert.”

  My mouth drops open to scold him when Luke snips, “The language—”

  “Wasn’t filled with profanity. Just graphic.”

  “You sound like my sister.” Luke shakes his head slowly.

  “Aunt Erin is a wise woman.”

  Don’t…don’t even register what he just said.

  “I didn’t BANG your doctor, Kid. I was…I was definitely interested. He wasn’t. End of story.”

  “That’s why you look like a walking Ralph Lauren ad for his appointment. Wanted to show him what he was missing?” My giggle gets Dean to chuckle with me.

  “You’re as bad as your son, you know that?”

  I smile softly at the term.

  Surely, if I can get used to Dean calling me that, the idea of a little person who came out of me calling me that shouldn’t freak me out so much, right?

  “Look, I like to dress nice. That’s all,” he argues. “Besides, Michael and I are just friends.”

  “Like you and Uncle Stuart are just friends?” The Kid jabs, and I wanna commend him.

  He really does fit right in, doesn’t he?

  “Since when do you call him Uncle Stuart? You hardly even see him.” Luke’s irritation starts tinting his cheeks.

  “I see him all the time.” Dean’s confusion comes again. “He and Uncle C.J. are best friends.”

  There’s a flash of jealousy and discomfort in Luke’s eyes before he directs them toward the ceiling mumbling, “Don’t remind me.”

  Do you feel like you’re missing something, because I sure do.

  Curious, I ask, “How do you know they’re best friends?”

  “They hang out a lot.” His innocent answer is met with a scoff from Luke. Dean folds his arms across his chest. “Is that what’s got you so cranky lately? You think Uncle C.J. and Uncle Stuart are fooling around?”

  Luke starts, “Kid—”

  “That’s fucking hilarious!” He starts laughing hysterically.

  “Mouth,” I mumble, unsure he hears me over his own amusement.

  The
expression on Luke’s face morphs from annoyed to embarrassed, a very rare thing.

  So rare in fact, I think we should take a picture of it. Frame it in the hallway. We need to remember this moment right now, because Luke Hart doesn’t do embarrassed. To be frank, neither does Erin. I don’t know how they both managed to rewire their systems to not include that gene, but man it’s a handy trick. In high school, one of the jocks had thought it would be funny to hide all of Luke’s clothes while he was in the shower, thinking he’d be too ashamed to do anything about it but beg for his clothes back. Luke had marched out of the locker room and down the hall, with just a towel barely covering his waist, to his locker where he kept an extra sweatshirt. I had just left a Math class when I saw it in motion. Needless to say, every girl in the student body’s heart was broken that day when they remembered that he played for the same team they did.

  Once his own laughter simmers back down, Dean says, “You know that’s crazy, right?” When Luke doesn’t reply, Dean clarifies, “Uncle C.J. is not gay. Like at all. Don’t ask me to explain how I know that or I might be grounded from ever going over there unsupervised again.”

  That doesn’t sound good.

  “Besides that insider information—”

  Did C.J. show him some homemade porn? You’re damn right I just gasped! I will break him in two if he showed the Kid some dirty homemade movies!

  “Uncle C.J. worships the ground Aunt Erin walks on. I mean, like the way Kanye West pined over Kim lovesick. Though, I think Uncle C.J. has more swag than Kanye.”

  Swag? The Kim and Kanye reference? I don’t know whether to tell him to quit reading US Weekly or cancel MTV. Tell me it’s normal for teenagers to say shit like that. I wonder if it’s a girl’s influence…hell, it could just be Erin’s.

  Luke looks irritated with the word alone. “Did you just say swag?”

  “Yeah. As in style. Anyway, Uncle C.J. is crazy over Aunt Erin kinda like the way Dad is over Mom.”

  Puzzled, Luke questions, “Dad and Mom? Really?”

  “Trying it out,” Dean shrugs and gives me a wink. “Uncle C.J. is madly 110% in love with Aunt Erin. And Uncle Stuart is—”