Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5)

by Heather Wardell

  Kevin was still receiving some last-minute instructions, and I half-expected Andrew to look around, maybe look for me, but he stood, head high, as calmly as a man waiting for a bus, not letting the crowd's cheers interfere with his focus. His swollen cheek and cut lip didn't seem to be bothering him, and he was hardly even breathing hard any more.

  Kevin certainly was, but when the fight started again he threw himself on Andrew in the most desperate rush I'd seen all night, fists flying so fast they were a blur.

  Andrew fell back under the onslaught, and I muttered, "Oh, no," but Jake said, "No, he's fine. Kevin can't keep that up and he knows it."

  Sure enough, within thirty seconds Kevin's blows became weaker and further apart, and Andrew began driving him around the ring with his own powerful punches.

  "He wants to win on the ground, so he needs to take him down, impose his will. Do some ground and pound to stun him and then one of the submissions we've been working on. But he's got to get him to the mat first."

  Kevin, unfortunately, didn't want any part of being on the mat, and despite Andrew's every attempt Kevin managed to stay on his feet.

  I felt frustrated for Andrew, but he kept trying. Jake, obviously excited by his persistence, talked non-stop letting me know what Andrew was aiming for and why he couldn't get it and how he would probably change it up, and nearly every time he did something different than Jake had suggested. Eventually Jake said, "Boy doesn't think like I do. But he's fantastic at flowing with it all."

  Flow with the go, as Andrew had told me. Watching him, the movements so aggressive but the careful thought process behind them so clear with Jake's help, I understood what that meant as I hadn't before, and I also understood that I would never have been able to adjust on the fly as he was doing. I set my plans too rigidly for that. And maybe that was a mistake.

  Andrew's trainer and the other guys in his corner were bellowing instructions at him throughout, and then one of them yelled, "One minute, Andrew. Finish it now!"

  Andrew faked a punch with his left hand then smashed his right fist into Kevin's jaw. For the second time that night I saw a man crumple unconscious to the ground.

  "Shit!" Jake grabbed my arm as the crowd went insane and Andrew threw his arms in the air in triumph. "Holy shit!"

  My delight stumbled in the face of his obvious shock. "What?"

  "That Kevin dude's never been knocked out. Not in practice, not in fights, not ever. That's why he stays standing, he knows he can't be beat on his feet. Shit!"

  Relieved that this was good shock, I stood with everyone else and cheered until my throat hurt.

  *****

  I stood nervously at the doorway to the dressing room. Jake had insisted I come back with him but I wasn't sure I should have. Andrew sat on a bench with an ice pack on his cheekbone, his trainer and the other guys around him, and it was such a male-dominated scene that I felt out of place. When he looked up and saw me, though, the delight on his battered face made it clear Jake had been right.

  "What'd you think, Rhiannon?"

  He sounded shy and hopeful, and his concern for my opinion touched me. "Great job. You're the toughest nerd I know." The guys laughed, and I added, "I hope you never get mad at me."

  "No way. And I wasn't mad anyhow."

  "I'll be extra-nice to you just in case."

  He grinned, then winced as he pulled his swollen lip.

  "Rhiannon was into it," Jake said, elbowing me. "Think she might take lessons."

  I elbowed him back. "I told you I wouldn't. Running's more than enough pain for me."

  "Pain's temporary," Jake said. "Pride's forever."

  These guys had a slogan for absolutely everything.

  "Hey." I turned to see Kevin. A flare of nervousness lit me up, but he moved past me and held out his hand to Andrew. "Nice one."

  Andrew stood and they shook hands, then grabbed each other in a hug. I stared, amazed by Kevin's acknowledgement of Andrew's skill and apparent lack of frustration over his loss, as they pounded each other on the back before Kevin drew back and said, "Rematch?"

  Andrew touched his lip. "In a few months, maybe."

  Kevin laughed. "I'll be here."

  He left, and Jake said, "I heard that, man. A few months. We all heard it."

  Andrew shook his head slowly. "Don't hold your breath."

  I looked at him, surprised. He was so clearly meant to be a fighter. Why wouldn't he do it again? I could imagine it had hurt, and no doubt it continued to hurt, but he'd owned that ring.

  Another elbow from Jake. I'd be as bruised as Andrew soon. "Talk him into it, babe."

  Andrew raised his eyebrows and Jake laughed. "Yeah, I'm stealing your woman. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

  With a grin, Andrew got to his feet, shrugged off the blanket over his shoulders, and held up his fists to Jake.

  Jake reached between Andrew's hands and tapped him on the forehead. "Don't hit me, boy, I did not teach you everything I know. You'll embarrass yourself."

  The guys laughed. I did too, with an extra flash of happiness at the idea of Andrew fighting for me. I knew Jake was joking, of course, but I still enjoyed it.

  "Seriously, though—"

  Andrew cut Jake off. "Not now. I need time." He returned to his bench.

  Jake narrowed his eyes, then nodded. "Got it. You feel okay?"

  "Doctor checked me out and I'm fine."

  "Good man." Jake turned to me and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm ready for your lessons whenever you want."

  We shook hands. "Don't hold your breath," I said, echoing Andrew.

  The guys laughed, then filed out of the room after congratulating Andrew again and telling him to get some rest.

  When we were alone, I sat on the bench next to him. "You were amazing out there." I shook my head. "And you thought I'd have to drag you out from under the table. No way. You didn't even look like you when you came out. I was actually scared."

  I expected him to like this but he sighed. "Yeah. That's what worries me."

  I frowned, but he said, "I should shower and then get some sleep. I was planning to see if you wanted to hang out tonight, but I'm a lot more tired than I'd expected so I should probably just go home."

  I'd have liked to hang out too. "I can imagine. And of course that's fine."

  He gathered his stuff into a gym bag, which I insisted on carrying for him as we walked out to the barely lit and now nearly empty parking lot. His first few steps were stiff and awkward but he loosened up as we went.

  "Rhiannon, I wasn't supposed to say anything but I think it's close enough to Monday morning now, and I know you can keep a secret. Liz had me transferred into your group."

  "Really? Great." And it was great. I'd love working with him, and I'd get to see him every day too. "Wait, our only vacancy's a team lead position. That's a promotion for you, right?"

  "Yup." He chuckled. "She might change her mind when she sees me on Monday."

  "Make sure she knows you won and she won't. You'll just look tough. Oh, congrats, Andrew. That's awesome, and you deserve the promotion."

  We reached his car, and I set down the bag and said, "Well, good night," feeling suddenly shy. We'd spent hours together, including the two overnight sessions at my apartment, but I'd seen him in a whole different way tonight, seen his body and soul and spirit.

  He moved closer. "Thank you for coming. I liked having you there."

  "I didn't think you even saw me."

  "Before I came out, I did." He gave a careful grin, lopsided because of his poor cut and swollen mouth. "I was peeking out the door to see you and Jake."

  I smiled at him. "Before your oh-so-manly song came on?"

  His grin widened. "Picked that for you."

  Our eyes met and we sobered at the same time. After a moment, I said, "What did you mean before, about me being afraid?"

  He looked away. "You said it, I'm not myself in the ring. I'm not sure I like who I am."

  "Did you talk to t
he guys about that?" I said, knowing he hadn't.

  "They all figure if you can fight, you should fight. They've said so from the beginning. But..." He took a step back from me and folded his arms. "I wanted to finish Kevin. I wanted to knock him out. And I didn't care if I hurt him. I felt the same way in my practice fights at the club, so I didn't want to do a real fight. I don't want to be that kind of person."

  Having watched him fight, I knew he was that kind of person, regardless of whether he wanted to be. But I knew something else too. "You'd never be that way outside the ring. Not a chance. You guys were both there to fight. That's totally different. In the ring, you're supposed to be like that. Out in the real world I know you'd never hurt anyone."

  He sighed. "I wish I knew that."

  His hopeful voice made my heart clench, and I gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. "I would bet everything I own on it. Except maybe Ruby."

  He gave me a small smile, and a question occurred to me. "Why'd you fight at all, then?"

  He cleared his throat and looked deep into my eyes, his cheeks turning a blotchy red. "They asked me to do it the Monday after our overnight work session. I was going to say no again, but I thought of you and that awful dream and everything else you've gone through, and I got mad and it made me say yes."

  I stared at him, shocked to the core. He'd been sweet to me but I'd never thought he cared that much.

  "But I won't do it again. I don't want to be that way and I won't do it."

  He was meant to be a fighter, and I didn't think he'd be able to deny that forever, but it was so clear he believed his words that I couldn't say anything but, "Then at least your one fight was amazing."

  "Did you really think so?"

  "Andrew, you knocked out the guy that nobody's been able to knock out. Yeah, I thought it was amazing. Incredible." I grinned. "Oh, and I like your tattoo. Sword of Supreme Authority, right?"

  He laughed. "Don't tell Jake it's from a game, he thinks it's cool."

  "Never. I designed that sword, you know. When'd you get the tattoo?"

  "About a month ago." He paused, then added, "And yes, I did know you designed it."

  My mind struggled to accept this. After we'd met, after he'd known my story, he'd had something I created tattooed, permanently marked, on his body. He'd fought, after refusing for months, because of me. Could it be that I had influenced his life as much as he'd influenced mine? And if so, what did that mean?

  We stood looking at each other for a moment before I said, "You really were incredible tonight. And I'm so glad you let me see it."

  He moved closer. "I'm glad too."

  My heart picked up speed at his nearness, but fear pounded through me with every beat. I wasn't ready for more than being friends with him, and something told me he might want more.

  Again we studied each other, then he extended his hand. "Thanks for coming."

  A handshake, after everything we'd been through and seen together? His lips quirked into a smile, showing he knew it was weird, and I smiled too.

  We shook hands as I said, "You're welcome." Neither of us let go, though. We stood in the cool dark night, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes without a word.

  Something had shifted between us. Seeing him fight, discovering another side to him, hearing his fears and doing what I could to help with them like he'd helped me... we weren't just coworkers any more. We weren't even just friends. But I didn't know what we were, what I could handle us being, either.

  He took a breath to speak, and excitement and terror rippled through me.

  A car horn shattered the silence and the moment, and Jake shouted from his window as he drove past, "Attaboy, Andrew!"

  We laughed and released each other, and Andrew said, "Ah, I hate that guy sometimes. You'll be okay getting home on your own?"

  I nodded, shaken by the feeling that something major had nearly happened, and he said, "Well, I'll see you on Monday then."

  I nodded again, then we both said, "Unless you—" at once and had to laugh.

  "You first."

  I gathered my nerve again. "Unless you want to come over tomorrow?"

  He smiled. "That's exactly what I was going to say."

  Chapter Ten

  I'm suddenly thirsty, so I suck back nearly half my remaining water before realizing I should ration it. I might need it to last me a while.

  I run my fingers around the top of the bottle's lid, wondering whether I can let myself drink a little more since what I took in hasn't done much to ease the scratchy dryness of my throat, then am hit with such a big yawn my jaw stretches too far open and cracks. The car's warmed up again, and between that and losing myself in memories it's hard to stay awake.

  But staying in the present is no good either. I'm still stuck and still alone, and I don't want to be either of those things so I open the car door for a few seconds to let some revitalizingly cool air in and then allow myself to retreat into the past again.

  Andrew and I did spend the day after his fight together, and I got to take care of him like he'd taken care of me. I made him soup because his mouth hurt too much to eat anything else, I went out to get coffee for us when he needed help staying awake, and I let him snuggle with Ruby and nap on my couch all afternoon when the caffeine wasn't enough to keep him conscious. He felt bad about that, about coming over to visit and ignoring me, and I eventually admitted that I liked having him around even when he was sleeping. We both smiled at that, then both ended up blushing and looking away.

  On Monday, my coworkers were happy he was joining our group but shocked by his appearance. He explained he'd fought, and won, and when nobody was looking he glanced at me and raised his eyebrows in what I knew meant, "Should I tell them you were there?" I smiled and gave my head a tiny shake. He smiled back, and shot me the cutest wink I'd ever seen, and we kept our extra-curricular connection a secret as we both wanted to do.

  After lunch that day, which Andrew and I had to share with our coworkers who wanted to know more about his fighting, Liz called us all into the meeting room. "The word from on high is we need to review every bit of code by the end of the year to make sure we've found all the sabotages."

  My coworkers looked as unimpressed as I felt. Check all of the thousands and thousands of lines of code, in less than six weeks?

  "I'm not thrilled either, folks, but it's not an option. Andrew, I wish I could let you ease into being a member of our group but that's not an option either. I will give you a little less of the work, though."

  He shook his head at once. "I want to do my fair share."

  Liz smiled at him. "I appreciate that. But you're not as familiar with our code, and—"

  "I saw a lot of it while finding that first sabotage, and Rhiannon explained the few things I didn't understand. I think I can pull my weight already."

  Liz glanced at me, and I nodded. "He's right, except about the explaining. Rocky here knows what he's doing."

  Chuckles, and Andrew smiled at me as Liz said, "Well, all right then. That's good, actually. Rhiannon, since your new area's due mid-January, I'll have everyone cover most of what you'd have been checking, so Andrew's help will be useful."

  Nobody seemed offended by this, but I was. New area or not, I couldn't let them do my work. When I said so, Liz responded with, "We're all on the same side. It's not your work, it's ours."

  Sure, but I knew my own code better than anyone else. Besides, how would I know it had been done right unless I did it myself? I'd trust Andrew to check it. Probably. But everyone else?

  Knowing better than to say that to the group, I insisted that my new area was ahead of schedule so I'd be fine, and Liz acquiesced, although she made me promise to tell her if I was overwhelmed.

  I didn't, of course, even after I was so tired I could barely function. I kept up my exercise schedule too, and my diet. I couldn't bear to let myself slack off anywhere.

  Besides, staying busy helped distract me from upcoming dates and painful memories. Andrew h
elped too, of course. We ate lunch together every day, went for afternoon coffee as often as we could, and spent our evenings playing the game online at my place or his whenever he didn't have MMA.

  But he initiated everything. I hadn't been able to suggest a meeting since I'd done it in the parking lot after his fight. There it had been easy: I'd known he was thinking the same thing. But I couldn't do it again. I said yes every time he invited me over or asked me out, but I couldn't say the words myself. I loved being with him, but I didn't know how I wanted our relationship to go.

  Actually, I did, but for the first week after his fight I kept denying what I knew was true. Once I accepted it, I still didn't know what he wanted, or whether I was really ready for what I wanted. But I needed him, wanted him, more than ever, and I finally managed to reach out to him on the day I'd been dreading for weeks.

  *****

  Andrew opened his front door to me. "Hey. I'm glad you suggested this."

  He didn't know I was using him to escape my apartment and the possibility of another devastating phone call, but I knew, and even though he was clearly happy to see me I felt guilty. "Thanks for letting me come over," I said, kicking off my boots and trying to sound casual and relaxed. "Needed to get out of my house."

  He hung up my coat. "Yeah? Ruby being a jerk?"

  The forced amusement in his tone told me I hadn't succeeded in hiding my sadness, but I didn't want to discuss it so I made myself laugh and say, "Yup. Demanding her own chair."

  The two weeks of recuperation after his fight had left his face only slightly marked, and he was able to smile without trouble now. "Well, the good news is I'll share my furniture with you. Want to sit in my chair and play the game?"

  Glad he wasn't prying into my problems, I said, "Shouldn't we be working?"

  "Let's not and say we did. It's Saturday, after all."

  "But then the work won't get done."

  He sighed. "I was afraid you'd think of that. All right, get in there then."

  He gestured to the open door of his home office, and I went in to find his laptop running tests of the game's code and a steaming coffee cup sitting at my usual spot on his spare desk.