Fighting the Fall

by J. B. Salsbury

  Sanderson clears his throat at my side.

  “Mike Sanderson, Mason Mahoney and Eve Dawson.” I still haven’t stopped looking at her, and just like the first night, the more I stare, the harder it is to look away.

  Mason and Mike talk about something, but it’s white noise compared to the thump of my pulse in my ears. I knew I missed her, wanted to show up at her house a dozen different times, but I held back, knowing it was best for us both to end things. But now, now I’m gearing to rip Mason’s arm from his body if he doesn’t fucking drop it from her. He must feel her soft hair against his arm, her even softer body pressed to his ribs.

  “What are you doing here, Eve?” The rumble in my chest makes it more of a growl than comprehendible words.

  She pins me with a glare that goes straight to my dick, and fuck if I don’t want to provoke her into a fight.

  “She’s with me, Cam.” There’s a smile in Mason’s voice.

  I turn my frustration on him. “Is she?”

  “Cameron.” Eve’s voice is stern, but even still the way she says my name makes me want to pull her head back and devour her mouth. My fingers itch to tangle in all that long hair. I flex my hands. Think before you act.

  “Yep, lucky me, huh?” His fucking pretty-boy ass smiles even bigger. “I’m gonna take my girl to get a drink, and . . .”

  Eve looks up at Mason, her eyes huge and her jaw loose on its hinges. She doesn’t seem to like being called his girl. A trickle of satisfaction tempers my anger.

  We exchange a few mumbled words and a head nod before he guides her, his arm still slung over her shoulders, to the bar. I can’t help but watch the entire thing unfold, my eyes glued to their connection.

  What was she thinking showing up to my house on the arm of one of my fighters? My guess is she’s trying to make me jealous, but that seems so beneath her. She’s young, sure, but from what little I know of her, she’s above this petty shit.

  I excuse myself to go inside, making a quick run to my office. My stash of high-end liquor is locked up there. I pour three fingers of Remy XO into a crystal tumbler and drop into my leather club chair.

  What’s a man supposed to do when tempted with a woman like Yvette Dawson? Young, gorgeous, and every single thing I need to stay away from.

  ~*~

  Eve

  I’ve had too much to drink. I told myself that I shouldn’t let my nerves dictate how thirsty I got, but knowing that Cameron is within range, feeling his eyes on me, I just kept throwing the drinks back.

  Luckily the backyard misters are maintaining a pretty decent evening temperature. I scouted out a little bistro table and chairs away from the bulk of the party so I can lounge in the fresh air and try to clear my head.

  As nice as Mason has been tonight, it’s pretty obvious he thinks my acceptance of this date means something. Referring to me as his girl in front of Cameron would’ve gotten him an elbow to the ribs if it weren’t for the obvious jealousy painted all over the hotshot UFL CEO’s face. But the knowledge that Cameron might still be interested in me, even now that he knows how old I am, has been doing a number on my heart all night.

  Why can’t we just be honest with each other? Yeah, maybe we’re not the perfect match, but we’re clearly attracted to one another, have explosive chemistry when we’re naked, and don’t find the other insanely annoying. That’s more than most couples can say.

  I drop my head back and close my eyes. It’s almost completely dark. As soon as the fireworks are finished, I’ll hit Mason up for a ride home, explaining that I’ve had too much to drink, which isn’t a lie, but it’s not really the problem either.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I jerk upright, searching the dark corner where the voice came from. “Cameron?”

  He takes a few steps out of the shadows. His eyes drill holes in me. He looks mad. No, not mad. Furious. “Answer me.”

  Okay, maybe I was wrong about him having feelings. At least, not the good kind.

  “Mason invited me.”

  “Why did you come?” His voice is so deep, demanding, nothing like Mason’s sweet cajoling tone.

  My body responds immediately. Heart pounding, skin warming, womb tingling. “Had nothing else to do.”

  He tilts his head, studying me. “Try again.”

  “It’s true.” I shrug and lean back with a slow cross of my bare legs. Hold on! I’m being seductive. I’m trying to seduce him?

  “You expect me to believe that your coming here tonight has nothing to do with me.”

  “I don’t care what you believe, but yeah, that’s the truth.”

  A wounded expression crosses his features before he reins it in. “You and Mason.”

  I should tell him it’s none of his business. Or hell yeah, me and Mason, what’re you going to do about it, asshole. “No.”

  “No?”

  I shake my head.

  “He know that?”

  The rough edge of his voice makes my toes curl. “He’s not really in tune to my subtle hints.”

  A low growl rumbles in his throat. “I’ll interpret.”

  God, this is so confusing. It’s as if he’s jealous, but why? “I haven’t heard from you since the night you showed up at my place to get me naked. Now you want a say in who I hang out with?”

  His hand pushes through his hair, which looks almost black in the dim light, and he groans. “Fair enough.” He crosses to me and drops down on the seat next to mine. Elbows on his knees, he scrubs his face with his hands. “Fuck.”

  “I uh . . . I like your house.” Generic, safe, and totally lame subject change.

  He turns his head, and there’s a slight tilt to his lips that look far from amused. Sexy hair, thick jaw, full lips, and eyes that even when they’re smiling look as if they want to devour me.

  My heart pounds. This is so wrong. I’m around Cameron for ten seconds, and I’m visualizing all the things I’d do to him if we were alone, but Mason only makes me want to punch him in the arm and give him a wedgie for being obnoxiously sweet.

  The silence between us is thick with tension. “The party was a good idea.” I motion to the crowd that is now gathering outside for the fireworks. “Don’t think Gibbs ever did anything like this for his fighters.”

  I feel his eyes on me, and when I turn, I almost recoil at the intensity behind his stare. “Can you stop acting like we’re two old friends shooting the shit when you know good and fucking well you’re thinking the same thing I am.”

  My mouth falls open and I force it shut, only to have it drop open again.

  “I’ve had my hands and my mouth all over every inch of that gorgeous body, doll. You think I can’t read you? Know what you’re thinking about right now?”

  I swallow hard. “What am I thinking about?”

  “Same thing I am.” His eyes move over my body in a slow caress, and he leans in close. “Us naked, our bodies tangled together sweat-soaked from fuckin—”

  “Dad!”

  My head jerks toward the direction of the voice, heart pounding, and body jacked the hell up from what Cameron was describing. Pull it together, Eve.

  A boy, no not a boy, a man but one who just recently made the transition, is headed toward us. He’s tall. My guess is he’s close to six foot, and he looks like a lanky, lighter shade of Cameron.

  “Oh my God.” I cover my mouth when realization sinks in. This has to be his son.

  The kid approaches, his blond hair sticking out all over like a rock star, and he’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a faded black concert tee that looks one size too small. It’s not the kind of style I’d expect from an offspring of Cameron’s, but this kid rocks the look.

  “Dude, we’ve got a problem.” He looks at me and then back to Cameron with questioning eyes.

  Cameron groans. “Ryder, this is Eve.” He meets my eyes in a meaningful and what seems like apologetic way. “Eve, my son. Ryder.”

  I shake the kid’s hand. “Nice to meet you.�
��

  “Yeah, you too.” He flashes a knockout smile, and I’m not surprised to see he looks even more like his dad than I thought. “You must be the vamp.”

  Vamp?

  “Ry.” The nickname comes out as a warning, but Ryder chuckles.

  “I don’t mean to interrupt, but um . . . Dad, can you come here for a second?”

  “You can talk in front of Eve,” Cameron says.

  Warmth explodes in my chest. Two one-night stands and a breakfast and he’s comfortable with me being witness to a conversation he’s going to have with his son? I refuse to let my heart go to all the places it wants to and decide Cameron knows his son best and whatever he has to say is most likely not a big deal.

  Ryder’s eyes shift between Cameron and me, and he decides with a shrug. “Okay.” He looks at Cameron. “Mom’s here.”

  I suck in a breath.

  “Fuck!” Cameron jumps up from his seat and storms off without saying goodbye. No see ya later. No I’ll be right back. Just gets up and takes off to go see his ex-wife.

  Ryder gives me a halfhearted smile as if he’s taken notice of his dad’s rude departure. “Nice meeting you, Eve.”

  “You too.” My response is soft, but it doesn’t matter. By the time the last word is out of my mouth, he’s gone anyway.

  Talk about emotional whiplash. One minute he’s talking about us, and then poof! he takes off to be with his ex. This shouldn’t be surprising. It’s what I expect and probably deserve. My head tumbles with questions, feelings, and emotions I can’t even name. I rub my temples, trying to make it all stop and only manage to give myself a headache.

  This was a mistake. A huge one.

  Boom! The sound of fireworks and the follow up of collective ooh’s and ah’s fill my ears. I inch closer to the crowd for a better look. One after the other, fireworks launch into the sky and light up the crowd of faces in every color of the rainbow. I find Mason standing with Blake and Layla, but I stay where I am, afraid of getting too close and having him touch me in some way.

  God, I’m a royal bitch.

  Mother Nature alerts me to the fact that I need to make a stop before we go. Now’s probably a good time.

  I wander through the living room, passing big leather couches and a flat screen TV that’s bigger than my refrigerator. The house is basically empty save for a few of the caterers picking up empty cups and plates.

  I get the attention of a girl as she’s heading to the kitchen. “Is there a bathroom nearby?”

  She jerks her head toward the hallway. “Over there.”

  “Thanks.” I turn down the long hallway, and all the doors are closed except one door at the end that’s cracked. “Bingo.”

  I avoid taking in too much of the house as I scurry to the bathroom door. It seems the more I learn about Cameron the more I like him, and noticing his excellent taste in decor won’t help. Head down I push through the bathroom door and stop dead in my tracks.

  Oh shit. Not the bathroom. I’m in a bedroom, a gigantic bedroom that has its own sitting area with a couch. And on that couch is Cameron, but he’s not alone. He’s sitting, leaning in towards a woman. Fuck!

  Fourteen

  Eve

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” I point over my shoulder. “I thought this was the bathroom.”

  The woman, most likely Ryder’s mom, studies me with bloodshot eyes. Her shoulder-length hair is pushed back off her face as though she’s been running her hands through it. Her nose is red and her face puffy, but there’s a beauty behind all that, and it’s strangely familiar.

  “Eve,” Cameron says, but I don’t take my eyes off the woman at his side. “Give me a second and I’ll be—”

  “Oh my God!” I take a few steps into the room. “I know you.”

  The woman jerks and watches me through cautious eyes.

  Cameron clears his throat. “Eve—”

  “I worshipped you.” My heart races with my impending fan-girl freak-out. “I had all your magazine covers pinned to my walls.”

  A tiny smile curls her lips.

  “You’re D’lilah Monroe.” Butterflies explode in my stomach.

  She nods and sits up a little taller.

  “I fucking love you.” I close the distance between us. “I mean I wanted to be you. You’re so beautiful.” Time has aged her, but she’s still supermodel material.

  She sniffs and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Thank you. That was a long time ago.”

  I look at Cameron, who’s observing me through narrowed eyes. “This is amazing.” I point to D’lilah. “She was my role model growing up.” I swing my gaze back to her. “Why did you give up modeling?”

  Cameron stands. “Eve, please, give us a—”

  “Cam.” D’lilah grabs his hand, and he looks down at her.

  My jaw clenches, and my stomach gets hard as a wave of jealousy washes over me.

  She blinks up at him. “It’s okay.”

  He nods and drops back to sitting.

  I swallow against the thick lump forming in my throat. The star-struck fog dissipates with awareness. Cameron was married to D’lilah Monroe, the most beautiful and sought-after woman in the world.

  All of a sudden I’m the slut in the room. The other woman. My dress feels too tight, my boobs too big. I cross my arms over my chest and take a step back. “I uh . . . I’m gonna”—I point with my thumb over my shoulder—“find the bathroom.”

  “You don’t have to go.” D’lilah looks up at me and pats the couch next to her. “Come sit. It’s been so long since I’ve talked about my career; might be fun to reminisce.”

  Cameron has his head buried in his hands. This is clearly uncomfortable for him, and it’s not a fucking party for me either. “Oh, no, I can’t—”

  “Dad.” We all look to the door where Ryder’s head is popped in through a crack. He looks at me. “Oh hey, Eve, you’re in here too, huh?”

  I give an awkward wave. This is so uncomfortable.

  “The caterers need you to sign an invoice.”

  Cameron pinches the bridge of his nose. “Where’s Layla?”

  “Your name’s on the credit card, so it has to be you.”

  Cameron’s eyes move between D’lilah and me. He’s obviously stressed out about leaving her alone. Or maybe leaving her alone with me? Either way, I hate his discomfort.

  I take a couple steps toward him. “It’s okay. We’ll talk fashion from the nineties until you get back.” What? No! What am I doing?

  He looks at D’lilah. She nods and smiles. Whoa . . . that smile. The fan girl in me jumps up and down, clapping her hands.

  He groans and pushes up off the couch, his eyes on me. He mouths “Be right back” and passes me to meet Ryder at the door they close as they leave.

  I have a seat next to D’lilah, and my hands knot together in my lap. “So, uh . . . Vogue. What was that like?”

  I pray Cameron comes back quickly. Every second sitting on a couch with D’lilah Monroe solidifies the truth. I had no chance with Cameron, and with a supermodel as competition, that fact is carved in stone.

  ~*~

  Cameron

  I’m in a hurry to get back to my room. After signing invoices and explaining where the recycle can is on the side of the garage, I move through the house to relieve Eve of her babysitting duties. The fireworks ended and people are headed home, stopping me to say goodbye. I rush through goodbyes, worried about leaving the girls alone in my room for too long.

  D’lilah showed up drunk and in tears. Knowing Eve and all her sass, who knows what kind of trouble she could be getting in with my ex-wife? I should’ve had Ryder sit back there and play ref.

  I finally get halfway down the hall, preparing myself for the worst, when a sound I haven’t heard in years filters out from behind the bedroom door.

  D’lilah’s laughter. And not the girlie kind of laughter, but the deep booming guttural laughter of the uncontrolled kind. My breath catches in my chest, and I freeze, taking a moment to
enjoy the sound of it. Only a woman like Eve could bring out that kind of response in a woman who hasn’t smiled in over ten years. The light hum of Eve’s giggle goes straight to my chest. A warm pressure forms behind my ribs. What the fuck?

  If I could, I’d toss D’lilah’s ass in a cab and pin Eve to my bed or bend her over my couch until her legs give out. I scrub my face. What the hell is this girl doing to me?

  I put my hand on the doorknob when I hear Eve’s voice.

  “I can’t believe you lived with Telle Sailor.”

  “She swore peeing in the shower fought athlete’s foot.” D’lilah’s voice is light, lighter than I’ve heard it in years.

  “Eww, really?” Eve goes silent. “Wait, does it work?”

  “Totally.”

  They both burst into another round of hysterical laughter. As much as I’d love to let this continue, if I don’t get my mouth on Eve, I might explode.

  I push open the door, and both their smiling faces turn to me. D’lilah’s eyes brighten; Eve’s smile falls. “Ladies, seems like you two are hitting it off well.”

  “You’ll never believe it, Cam. She still has my first Seventeen Magazine cover. I told her if she brings it by I’d sign it for her.”

  My gaze swings to Eve, who’s trying hard not to look at me. “That’s great, ’Li.”

  D’lilah takes a deep breath. “Well, I better go.”

  “Ryder can give you a lift. He’s on his way out to meet some friends.”

  “Eve, you’re not coming with us?” she says.

  Go with her and Ryder? They really did hit it off.

  Eve swings her gaze to me. “Oh, ah . . .” She shifts uncomfortably. “I’m gonna hang out here. I have friends out there waiting for me.”

  She means Mason, but last I saw he was in the middle of a competitive game of pool where big money was at stake. He won’t be looking for her for a little while, just enough time for her and me to have a little talk.

  “Oh, okay.” D’lilah’s eyebrows drop low, and her smile droops like the weight of reality just showed up and sat right on her good time. She stands and turns to Eve. “Thank you. I haven’t talked about the past in so long.”

  Eve shrugs. “Sure thing. Anytime you want to pass on anymore supermodel secrets, I’m game.”