Love TKO

by Selene Chardou

  Torin leaned over and looked me directly in the eyes with intense ice blue eyes. “And you? What are you passionate about? What do you feel so strongly about that rivals how I feel about mixed martial arts?”

  I smiled as I tried to break contact but I couldn’t; my eyes refused to leave his. “I’m still working on that. Not all of us have our lives figured out yet. I know what I’m good at but that doesn’t mean it’s my passion. I love languages…I adore France. I plan to move there in June.”

  The bright blue flames of his eyes dimmed somewhat. “Oh, you’re leaving the country?”

  “It’s always been my plan. I own an apartment there and know the language fluently since I have been visiting every summer since I was nineteen. There’s just something about that place, which touches my soul very deeply. I truly believe I could find my passion there, if that makes any sense to you.”

  The waitress suddenly interrupted and decided to take our dinner orders.

  It was a brief reprieve from the hurt I saw in Torin’s eyes.

  Surely he didn’t think our one night tryst and a dinner date would change my mind about long term plans I’d cultivated for years? I’d already had the contingencies in place for my sister so she would never want for anything, and I would be back and forth every three months to check on her. It was important for me to know that Amelie and Angelo grew up with stability that we’d never had as children. I never planned to have children of my own so I wanted only the best for my niece and nephew. They were the only family—besides my sister—I had, and I loved them with all my heart.

  I ordered the Chicken and Mushroom Lettuce Wraps while Torin opted for the Steak Diane, served medium rare. He also ordered another bottle of wine, this time a full-bodied Pinot Noir for us to enjoy with our entrées.

  He waited until the waitress left before he leaned closer to me. “I know you have to keep that beautiful figure but you couldn’t humor me and order off a part of their menu that didn’t have ‘skinny’ in the title?”

  I laughed out loud. “You’re too adorable, you know that?” I leaned in closer to him and our faces were merely inches from one another. “I didn’t order that entrée because it was on the SkinnyLicious Menu, I ordered it because it truly is one of my favorite dishes here. I swear.”

  His blue eyes were so intense, I found myself falling deeper into them. “And you would swear on a stack of Bibles?”

  “Do you have a stack of Bibles hidden in your pants pockets, Mr. Duffy?” I teased out loud.

  “No,” Torin replied out loud, “but if I did, would you?”

  “Yes, I would.” I smiled before I pulled away only a few inches. “I have been eating ‘bird’ food for so long, I actually enjoy it. Do I have my times where I pig out? Yes. But it’s not on chocolate or Ben and Jerry’s. Usually it’s a bottle of Dom Perignon and a bag of barbeque Kettle Chips with slices of Swiss cheese. I know…I’m not the bravest girl out there. Try not to judge me.”

  His eyes brightened again as his smile grew. “I don’t judge. A six pack of Carlsberg and Buffalo wings with bleu cheese dressing are my weakness. I usually polish off a small peperoni pizza too from my favorite place while I’m at it. I have a healthy but very male appetite.”

  I allowed my right arm to rest on the table. “Was that a double-entendre, Torin?”

  “Damn, you make my name sound so fuckin’ sexy every time it leaves your mouth.” He paused as his tongue passed over his lips nervously. “It’s whatever you want it to be. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

  I smiled and it turned into a hearty chuckle. “I really think you have some great hidden talents and any woman who is lucky enough to land you has a treasure trove of mystery and delight awaiting them. You truly are so much more than your persona in the octagon.”

  His smile faltered a bit. “I don’t know about that…relationships, I mean. They just don’t seem to be for me. Or rather, I should say I’m not cut out for them. When you come from backgrounds like ours, you second guess everything and I don’t think I would make a good father because mine was lousy, and I know I wouldn’t make a good husband because I can’t promise forever to anyone.”

  “Who said you had to?” His arm rested dangerously close to mine before his hand reached for my own and squeezed it gently. “Sometimes you can only promise one day at a time and the person who is right for you…she’ll understand that and she won’t judge you.”

  “Is that what you’re offering to me? One day at a time? I think I can work with that.”

  My cheeks began to hurt because I don’t think I’d ever genuinely smiled this much with one person in a solitary evening. “No, we’re just on a date, remember?”

  “And what if I told you I wanted to see you again tomorrow?”

  “I would tell you tomorrow is booked because it is my gym and catch-up day. I spend time watching all my favorite television shows I missed with a bottle of Dom Perignon, barbeque Kettle chips and Swiss cheese slices.”

  “Well, if I can provide all that, would the answer still be no?”

  I pondered only for his benefit.

  The truth be told my heart hammered in my chest and I wanted to jump up, scream and do the girly circles about how the guy who I secretly crushed hard on liked me and wanted to get to know me. I couldn’t deny our sexual attraction but that wasn’t all he was after, and tonight, he’d made that abundantly clear.

  I loved him for wanting to get to know me, the real me. Not the persona I wore at work because tonight, I’d left that part of me at home, and this felt like a genuine date with a great guy I would have never met in a million years had it not been for my profession.

  However, would that be what tore us apart in the end?

  No man dreamed of ending up with a prostitute, and that was the God’s honest truth. It was a wet dream that looked better on paper but it truly would be hard to get past everything I’d done. Could he learn to forget that I’d slept with men for money, and would he question why I was too lazy to ever get a “real” job?

  I didn’t want that and now I understood why Raymond had the rule in the first place. No man could ever deal with his significant other selling herself, pleasuring other men, accompanying complete strangers because that was what I was paid to do. It was too dangerous and there was too much that could go wrong.

  I decided I didn’t want to have that conversation with Torin and therefore I would live in the moment, knowing all along that Thursday would be the last day we would see one another.

  It hurt like hell but it was for the best.

  “Okay. You’ve gotten me to break my Sunday rule. I will spend the day with you.”

  “Good. Wear something casual and boots because you’re going to need them. Not cute little UGG boots either but something sturdy. I want to take you somewhere fun but it might get a little dusty.” Torin refilled our wine glasses with the last of the Pinot Grigio and I drank mine down in record timing to soothe my dry mouth.

  “You’re not even going to give me a hint?”

  “Why should I? We haven’t even finished up with tonight yet. Let’s live in the now and worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

  I had to admit as much as Torin was a pain in the ass, he was sexy as hell and had yet to make one inappropriate comment tonight. He’d been nothing but a gentleman; he surprised me so much, I was taken aback. The way he held my hand in his calloused one with such care, and generosity, the rush of skin to skin had my heart thrumming in my chest like a well-tuned engine.

  I knew everything about Torin Duffy—the athlete—but I knew nothing about him as a man except that he was great in bed. That was nothing; sheer instinct on my part due to what I did for a living, yet I still didn’t know what made him tick or what would piss him off.

  “We talked about my family…Kieran is your younger brother but don’t you have other siblings?” I sipped from the Pinot Noir, which replaced the Pinot Grigio when our meals were brought out to us.

  “Th
ere are six of us—hey, we’re an Irish Catholic family so it kind of goes with the territory—but my mother only had sons. Shane and I are ‘Irish twins.’ I’m eleven months younger than him so he’ll be turning thirty-two shortly before my thirty-first birthday. Devin is the youngest at twenty-three.”

  He paused as he cut a bite-sized piece of his steak with his knife and fork, and ate it, savoring the taste as I enjoyed mushroom chicken in a lettuce leaf.

  “My aunt Maggie died when we were really young and her old man was behind bars for murder so my parents took in my two cousins. We were all raised just like siblings so there is also Seamus who is twenty-six and Fiona. She’s twenty-one but you would think she’s older—”

  “And extremely famous!” I exclaimed out loud. “She started off as a Victoria’s Secret catalog model before she graduated to runway and has been in some of the biggest fashion designers’ shows. She’s been on the cover of Vogue, Cosmopolitan, Elle, Vanity Fair and Society Magazine. And she’s rumored to have dated some of the biggest rock and movie stars out there.”

  Torin’s icy blue eyes and raised eyebrows were obviously, a sign of disapproval. “Yeah, she’s gonna end up like Miley Cyrus if she doesn’t slow down. I don’t exactly get off seeing my cousin kissing other female pop stars or bed-hopping from man to man. It’s not exactly the best way to get the attention of a quality man who will respect her or marry her for that matter.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want marriage.” I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. “A fat engagement ring with a solitary white diamond and platinum band isn’t the key to every woman’s heart.”

  He sighed out loud. “You might be right. She might not want to get married—not after the kind of childhood we had. You think yours was bad because you were surrounded by the mafia and gangsters but at least they have principles they live by. Try growing up with a drunk who beats his wife and rapes her until her sons can get old enough to protect her…most of the time.

  “I did everything I could to save my mother and spare my siblings so I took her beatings and then my own. He was fookin’ useless and the only thing he ever gave me was me name. Other than that, I would prefer he never existed at all. I did what I had to do and bailed as soon as I turned eighteen but I vowed I would never hit a woman and I would never end up like my father: bitter, depressed and a miserable human being who hated everything and everyone because he was a failure in life.”

  Torin held my hand so tight, it was uncomfortable. He realized what he was doing and let go of my hand before he touched my fingers seductively, and reassuringly.

  “Well that is something you never will be. You’ve already carved out your legendary status in one of the most popular sports in the world. What more could you want?”

  “The Ultimate Fighting Championship for one. I have only gotten to the semi-finals and it pisses me off that I have never won. I know it’s stupid and I have so many other accolades and trophies but that is the top of the food chain—the equivalent of our Grand slam, our Superbowl and our Stanley Cup rolled into one.” He swigged from his wine with clear eyes that never left mine.

  “What is the urgency?” I regretted the statement as soon as it left my mouth.

  “My thirty-first birthday. I gotta do it by then because to be honest, I can’t take another year of the sport. I’ve broken bones and bruised so many places on my body, I am already looking at an old age filled with arthritis. I won’t punish myself one more year and I don’t wanna be one of those old ass fuckers still out there on the circuit chasin’ something I can’t get.

  “I’m not gonna get any better. I’m at my prime. Right. Now. If I can’t accomplish it this year then I’ll never do it. I’m smart enough to realize I’m seriously running out of time. I could fool a lot of people but when it comes down to it, Kieran is a natural born fighter and better than me. He lacks my discipline and passion because he doesn’t need it. He’s got that natural grace that came from playing boxing and football back in Belfast. When he is playing an opponent, it’s pure poetry. They can’t keep up because he just thinks different. He always knows where their weaknesses lie and he saves the best for the last. He’s a natural showman and he’s gonna be bigger than me. I want to be retired at that point.”

  My heart thundered in my chest as I ate a bite of mushroom chicken. “Looks like we both have looming deadlines. Mine is May thirtieth…my birthday.”

  “Mine’s August first. My birthday.”

  The sexual tension between us felt like a physical entity that took up its own space between us. It was unspoken and never said anything but would often pass between the two of us with words and sometimes a touch meant to be innocent. However, we wouldn’t be able to deny it forever, and so it became a battle of wills because neither of us wanted to give in yet again.

  The anticipation was almost as good as the sex itself. Neither of us were ready to concede just yet and that is what made our togetherness sizzle.

  I knew we wouldn’t have sex that night and probably not the following night either. He was in discipline mode and the way he felt about winning the championship in mixed martial arts is now how he viewed me. He wouldn’t give in to his lust or desires until he felt something more than a sexual pull for me.

  Both of us needed an emotional and spiritual connection along with a sexual one. We innately understood we’d started down this journey in an unconventional way but somehow, we had to bring it full circle until it was conventional. There had to be love, respect and mutual trust there or it would never work. Neither one of us was willing to take that risk.

  We were both too old, too experienced and had known too much heartache in our lives to just freely give our hearts away. We weren’t teenagers; we both knew that rocky road of relationships was a path fraught with heartache and pain. Life was too short and if we were going to take another risk, we were both going to make sure it was well worth it.

  Torin leaned forward and pushed his empty plate to the side as he topped up our wine glasses. “You’ve become quiet. Trying to decide what kind of cheesecake to get?”

  I smiled back as I shook my head. “I always go for the plain cheesecake.”

  He raised surprised eyebrows. “So you’re not the least bit adventurous?”

  “I don’t have a problem with adventure but I am cheesecake purist and don’t believe it needs to be polluted with a bunch of shit to be good. Good old fashioned cheesecake does it for me every time.”

  “Well, I actually like shit—as you put it—in my cheesecake. In fact that chocolate cheesecake is my favorite but I also like the Oreo cookie cheesecake too.”

  I made a face feigning disgust. “Ugh! Nope. Just a plain piece for me, thank you.”

  “Are you seriously telling me all this time you’ve been to the Cheesecake Factory, you’ve never tried another flavor of their cheesecake?” he inquired in a shocked voice.

  “Actually I have tried the vanilla bean flavored cheesecake. It wasn’t horrible but it wasn’t all that either. Then again, that’s my opinion.”

  He laughed as he shook his head. “Well, since I’m paying and I said you could get whatever you wanted, plain cheesecake it is for you then.”

  “Thank you,” I replied with sincerity in my voice.

  “For what?”

  “Well, most of the time when I am on a…date, men choose to order what they think I want instead of asking me, and I want you to know how refreshing it is you will allow me to make my own choices. That’s all.”

  How I finagled out of that close call was anyone’s guess, my own included. I wouldn’t dare let on to him what I did. He’d know soon enough and this bubble we were in would pop like a balloon with too much helium. Better to let nature take its course than have me sabotage what might be one of the few times in my life I genuinely felt special and adored by another person.

  I could afford to live in this fantasy world, even if it was only for a week, give or take a few days. I needed this foray into how regular couples c
ame about and relationships started, if only to keep me going until I officially retired.

  Chapter Seven

  Torin

  CHIARA WAS A complete and utter enigma to him.

  At times he saw her true personality, which was bright and filled with playfulness, innocence, humor and intelligence but then a melancholy would seep into those amber eyes and he felt like she carried a secret so heavy, it weighed on her soul.

  Torin knew about secrets a little too well, and one day, it would be nice to confide in one person outside his family who wouldn’t judge him.

  Secrets were hard to hold onto in a big family but some were easier than others and they’d all sworn—him, Kieran, Shane, Devin, Seamus and Fiona—to take theirs to the grave with them, even if it was killing them day by day as they were forced to live with what they planned, and executed without a hitch.

  He longed to tell Chiara because he knew enough about her now they’d finished dinner, and talked a great deal about their childhoods enough to know she wasn’t the type who would ever judge anything he ever did. Sometimes the ends justified the means; life wasn’t black and white but shades of gray; and every other cliché he could think of at the moment would make sense to her even if they didn’t make sense to most of the outside world.

  Their shared history, marred in tragedy, despair, shattered dreams and broken promises united them in ways even they weren’t truly aware of, and the bond of two damaged people ran deep. It was special and sacred because they knew in their heart of hearts that they could take more than the average person and if it ever became too much, they would just move on.

  There would never be any white flags or signs of desperation from either one of them about their future together. Either they worked out or they didn’t but they were strong enough to survive both scenarios, and most people couldn’t honestly assess a relationship like they could from the outset.