Placing it on the bedside table, he stared at it. He tried to think of what it was about Josie that intrigued him so much. Why he couldn’t get her out of his brain.
Their time together had been so short. It didn’t make sense that he was this invested in her already…and yet he was. He’d thought of her every morning when waking up, and she was the last thing he thought about every night before falling asleep. Hell, she was all he thought about all day long.
Meeting her and being with her this last week…it had felt like he’d found a piece of himself that had long since been missing. And now it was gone, and so was she.
He felt empty.
The things that used to drive him—his career, the next fight, ambition—didn’t hold as much regard for him anymore. Instead, all he could think about was what life would be like if he settled down…found a wife…got married and had kids.
Josie made him think of those things. He never had before meeting her.
But it was like a switch had flipped in his brain.
Carefully, he fingered the earring on his bedside table and held it up to the light. He could almost see her reflection in its edges. Pulling out his phone, he debated whether or not to call her. He could invite her over for the afternoon, get a couple’s massage, spend the evening having crazy, hot sex…
But he couldn’t seem to press the button on his phone. Instead, he just put it back down and buried his head in the pillows.
Tomorrow was coming way too soon.
Chapter Eighteen
“Why you looking so down, Jos?” Marcus, her baby brother, asked as she stared out the window of Xavier’s penthouse.
She turned to face him, trying to wipe any signs of emotion away. “I’m not. I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Marcus stood and crossed the room, taking the seat next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder and looked her squarely in the eyes. “Bullshit.”
“What?” She fumbled for words, trying to figure out how to respond. Marcus always knew when she was feeling down, and now was no exception.
“I heard about the network wanting you to branch out into your own show,” he said. “I heard about the date with Callan and Xav’s reaction. Hell, the whole world heard about his reaction.”
She swallowed hard, not wanting to think about Callan. Unfortunately, that was impossible these days with the fight coming up tomorrow.
“You’ve been moping around the last two days like someone killed your cat,” Marcus pointed out. “Something is obviously up.”
Jos looked out at the strip, which she could see from the window of the hotel they were staying at. “It might not have just been the one date,” she admitted for the first time.
Marcus’s brows lifted in surprise, then he nodded slowly. “So, it wasn’t a stunt for the show? It was real?”
She really didn’t know the answer to that question anymore, but it had been as real for her as she knew how to be. That might not be saying a lot, but it had meant a lot to her.
Josie just nodded to confirm.
Marcus let out a low whistle. “Falling for your brother’s opponent. Jos, that’s a big one.”
“I know…but it’s over,” she assured him. “It was over before it even started.”
“Why?” Marcus frowned. “If you really liked him, I’m sure Xav would have come around eventually.”
Again, she didn’t have an answer. There was no logical reason why they’d split up, but their fight had been big enough that breaking up was exactly what happened. Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes as she swallowed hard, trying to push away the emotion. Unsuccessful at her attempts to hold them back, one of her tears slid down her cheek.
“Aw, Jos.” Marcus reached forward and gave her a hug. “You’re really broken up over this guy?”
She couldn’t speak out loud without sobbing, so she said nothing. But her answer was loud and clear.
Leaving Callan had been a mistake…but one she didn’t know how to fix. He thought she was using him to help Xavier win the fight…and he wasn’t wrong. Josie’s mother had wanted exactly that. Josie had never agreed to it and had been vehemently opposed to it, actually, but that didn’t mean the plan didn’t exist.
And she’d known about it.
“Marcus! Josie!” Xavier burst into the living room with a bang, letting the doors slam against the wall as he swung them open. “Are we ready?”
“For what?” Marcus asked.
“To go out. We need to celebrate for tomorrow,” Xavier said, already pouring himself a glass of Scotch at the bar cart in the hotel room. “We’re trained. We’re ready. We’re going to kick ass. Let’s do a little good-luck outing.”
Josie shook her head. “Definitely not. You need to be in bed early and getting all the rest you can for tomorrow.”
“Fuck that shit. I’m going out.” Xavier downed his glass and returned to the bar cart for another. “We’ll be fine.”
“Xav, I’m serious. What would your trainer say? He told you to rest tonight.”
Xavier waved his hand as if to say he couldn’t care less. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Josie sighed, frustrated with her brother. She knew there was nothing she could really say to change his mind. Once he’d decided that this was what he was doing, the man was a bulldozer at full steam.
“Fine, but one drink and that’s it,” Josie tried for a compromise.
Xavier rolled his eyes at her, a smirk on the corner of his lips. “Sure thing, Mom.”
It wasn’t like she liked being a buzzkill, but it was her job as his assistant to keep him in line. A fucking hard job at that.
“Come on. The driver will take us down to the Bellagio,” Xavier said a few minutes later, looking up from his phone. “He’s outside.”
Josie nodded, not really looking forward to the night out. She was definitely going to be a babysitter.
Sure enough, when they arrived at the Bellagio, they went straight to an exclusive club off the top floor with a balcony that overlooked the strip that few people even had access to, and Xavier started pounding shots.
“Don’t you think you should slow down?” she asked him after his third shot, putting her hand on his arm. “You’ve got the fight tomorrow.”
“Not until tomorrow night,” he reminded her. “I’ve got all day to sober up. And I can still beat his ass with a drink in one hand.”
Xavier’s words came out slow and with a slight slur to them. He was definitely already intoxicated and on his way to black-out drunk if he kept going.
The cameraman and producer from their reality show chose that moment to show up.
“Hey, we want to film his last night before the fight,” the producer told Josie. “Do you want to do an ITM?”
ITMs were in-the-moments, where she spoke directly to the camera behind the scenes about what she was feeling at the time they were filming.
“Sure,” she agreed. Hell, anything to get her away from Xavier.
“Let’s set up over there.” The cameraman pointed to a small alcove that offered them some privacy. She waited while they set up the equipment needed and put a chair against the wall for her to sit in.
She sat and fluffed her hair out, getting herself ready.
These ITMs were a part of being a reality television star, but damn…she hated them. The producers always threw her curveball questions, trying to get her off her game or to say something salacious for the show. It was a battle to stay grounded and keep her head straight during shooting.
“How do you feel about Xavier’s chances in the fight tomorrow?” the producer asked her, sitting across from her but out of the way of the camera’s view.
“I feel like Xavier’s going to have a hard time in the fight tomorrow,” Josie admitted, making sure to repeat part of the question in her response. It was another part of filming ITMs—always repeating the question so that they could play the clip without the producer’s voice asking the questio
n.
“Why do you think that?” the producer asked.
“I think he will have a hard time tomorrow because he is out getting drunk the night before,” she explained. “It isn’t exactly a recipe for success.”
The producer nodded. “Do you think your brother has a drinking problem?”
Josie paused, trying to decide how honest to be and what should or shouldn’t be on camera. “No,” she finally said. “My brother doesn’t have a drinking problem. He does, however, have a maturity problem.”
She wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but that was all she was willing to divulge on camera. To be honest, it had been a while since she’d seen Xavier without a drink in his hand.
“Switching gears,” the producer said, looking down at a clipboard in her hands. “Let’s talk about romance.”
“Romance?” she questioned, not sure what she was referring to.
“Tell me about your date with Callan Walsh.”
Josie’s chin lifted slightly, caution overtaking her. She didn’t want to talk about it on camera. She didn’t want to share this part of herself with the world. It was private… It was hers.
And it was over.
An ache settled in her chest.
“Um…my date with Callan Walsh was lovely,” she finally said, keeping things as vague as she could. “He was a perfect gentleman.”
“Are you going to go out with him again?”
Josie shook her head quickly. “I have no plans to go out with him again.”
“Why not?” the producer dug a little further.
She shrugged, not really knowing how to answer that question. “We’re just two different people.”
The producer looked disappointed but asked her a few more questions about Callan and her brother and the upcoming fight. Josie answered them all as vaguely as she could, staying safe and…boring.
She didn’t give them any exciting sound bites, and they knew it. Sure, she was going to hear from Jamie Sessions about it. He would probably call her and complain, encourage her to open up more. But she didn’t care. She honestly didn’t care about the show anymore at all.
The thought struck her hard.
I don’t care about the show.
This show—which had been her life for the last five years—felt insignificant now. It didn’t feel like her or who she had grown into.
When had that happened? When had she become someone else?
She couldn’t help but wonder if Callan had anything to do with that. Meeting him, falling for him, the conversations they had late into the night…it had pushed her to think harder about what she wanted in life. It had awoken a feeling of…dissatisfaction in her.
Not with him but with her current situation.
He’d shown her what life could be like, and she wanted more. She wanted that connection, that closeness of having a partner by her side. Someone who would do anything for her, no matter how crazy or out there.
They’d literally buried a body together in the desert.
She smiled slightly, the corners of her lips twitching up. She hadn’t thought about their late-night tryst in a few days, but it still amused her. His openness to following along on her crazy schemes…was special. He was special.
And in doing that, she was realizing just how un-special her life really was.
Despite being a famous reality television star that other people considered privileged and lucky and special and all those things they wished they could be…the truth was, she was miserable.
That was a hard fact to accept, but it was true.
She sat in front of the camera answering questions, all the while thinking about who she really was and what she wanted to be.
Crash!
A loud clanging noise disturbed the interview, and the camera swiveled around in the direction of where Xavier was sitting. Or…where he had been sitting.
Now he was on the floor, a spilled drink all over him.
“Xav!” Josie stood up and ran over to him. “Are you okay?”
“Fi-Fi-Fine,” he stuttered out, a slur on his lips. “I’m great, Josie girl. How’s you?”
The cameraman and producer stood back and just watched the scene unfolding.
“Can you help me get him up?” she called out to the cameraman, who was a giant of a man and could have easily helped her lift her brother up.
The cameraman ignored her and just moved closer, zooming the camera in on Xavier’s face.
“Seriously? You’re not going to help?” Josie threw her hands up and tried to push Xavier into a seated position herself, but he was too big for her.
“Jos!” Marcus came around the corner, having been in the bathroom when everything happened. “What happened?”
Her brother helped her lift Xavier back onto the chair, but Xavier’s head dangled against his chest. He was completely passed out.
“He drank too much,” Josie said, pointing out the obvious. “Can you call security up here?”
Marcus pulled out his phone and dialed security’s number. Moments later, they arrived and hooked an arm around both sides of Xavier. Josie watched as they carried him back toward the hotel. Luckily, they had booked a room in advance just in case they needed to crash here. It looked like that was exactly what Xavier would be doing.
Josie, on the other hand, was going home.
The cameraman followed Xavier out, recording every moment of his embarrassing stunt and doing absolutely nothing to help.
It pissed her the fuck off.
Heading home, Josie couldn’t help but think about what she was doing with her life. Why was she in this show that didn’t give a shit about her? If that was her falling down drunk, they’d rather film it than prevent it from happening in the first place.
She wasn’t safe with them. She wasn’t safe in her own home.
Swallowing hard, she realized what she needed to do as she crawled into her bed about thirty minutes later.
Now she just needed the courage to actually do it.
Chapter Nineteen
“Are you fucking ready?”
Callan slammed his fist against his other palm.
Ferguson placed both his hands on Callan’s shoulders. “I said…are you fucking ready?”
“I’m ready!” Callan responded, nearly yelling as they stood in the back room waiting to be called out onto the main stage where the cage was set up and ready for tonight’s fight.
“Get pumped!” Ferguson clapped him on the shoulders and made a grunting noise. “We’re going to beat his ass. We’re going to win!”
“Yes!” Callan shouted.
A knock came from the doorway, and they both turned to face it. Expecting to see a show runner telling him it was time to come out, Callan was surprised when he saw Josie standing there instead.
“Hi…” Her voice was soft, timid almost.
“Jos,” he began, taking a step closer to her.
Ferguson glanced between the two of them, clearly putting the pieces together. “Uh, I’m going to go grab a water. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Callan nodded, grateful that his trainer, and friend, was able to pick up on his need for privacy. He left them alone, and Josie walked farther into the room.
“I just wanted to say good luck tonight.” She pulled her bag up higher on her shoulder.
“Thanks.” He realized then that she had a suitcase with her and a large bag over her shoulder. “Are you going somewhere?”
She glanced down at her suitcase and then back up at him. “Just taking a trip.”
There was something behind what she was saying, and he wondered what she really was doing.
“Jos.” He stepped closer, trying hard to focus on the moment and not the fact that her beautiful face looked like he should be kissing a line across her jaw or the fact that the tiny pink dress she was wearing was the perfect contrast against her dark skin. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her, make her his again…but that option was off the table.
> Hell, he’d chosen that.
She had just been distracting him to try to help her brother win this fight. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
So…why was she here wishing him luck? Why was she leaving?
“Where are you going, Jos?” he asked again, digging for the truth he could tell she didn’t want to give him.
She lifted her chin slightly, a mist filling in under her eyes. “New York.”
“What?” He balked. “For how long?”
“I’m moving there,’’ she admitted, not looking him straight in the eyes now. She was avoiding his gaze, looking down at her feet instead. There was more she wasn’t telling him, and he needed to know.
“Jos…talk to me.” He grabbed the strap of the bag on her shoulder and pulled it off, placing it on the ground. Then he took her hand and pulled her closer to him. “Talk to me. Why are you leaving?”
“I called in some favors and got an interview for the Institute of Culinary Education,” she explained. “I’m going to try to go back to school. Make my way as a chef in New York City.”
He paused, not sure how to respond to her. He was proud of her. He wanted the best for her, and pursuing cooking…that was everything she had wanted. Plus, he’d heard from Rockport that that was one of the best schools in the world for culinary arts. If she could go there… Hell, he’d champion it.
But she’d also be going to the other side of the country. Whatever was between them would really be over.
“I…I think that’s amazing, Jos. You deserve that. You deserve to pursue your cooking,” he finally said, running his hands up and down her arms. “When are you leaving?”
“Now. My flight is in two hours.”
He swallowed hard. “So you’re not staying for the fight?”
She shook her head.
“And the show?” he asked, wondering what she was going to do about her spot in the reality television world.
“I quit,” she admitted, chewing the corner of her lip. A slight chuckle left her lips. “I even shut down my Instagram page.”
He raised his brows. “Seriously?”
Misadventures in the Cage Page 9