Misadventures in the Cage

by Sarah Robinson

  He stared at her for a moment. Finally, he spoke. “What are you doing here, Jos?”

  Fidgeting with her hands in her lap, she replayed the moment in her mind when she’d seen the video. All the blood. Callan on the floor. A lump began to form in her throat as she remembered the scene. “I—I saw the fight. Well, a video of the fight.”

  He didn’t respond, letting her finish what she wanted to say.

  “I had to come make sure you were okay,” she finished. “I needed to be here with you.”

  “What about your job?” he asked, and she noticed there was a look of guilt crossing his expression.

  She quickly shook her head. “They’re fine with me being here. Everything is fine.”

  He looked relieved, letting out a big exhale of air. “Well…good. Still, I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

  “I’m not,” she replied. “It’s kind of humbling seeing this new side of you.”

  “The loser side?” He lifted one brow to look at her, then winced, as he must have realized his brow had stitches in it.

  “You’re not a loser.” She reached out and took his hand in both of hers. “You just lost one fight. There will be others.”

  “Yeah…epic way to go down, though.” He seemed wistful, a longing look in his eyes as he angled his body to face her.

  “There will be other fights. I heard your trainer talking about the appeal of a comeback and how that would boost your image…” She tried to assuage him, knowing he was feeling pretty shitty at the moment. “Believe me, after everything my brother has gone through, yet he still comes out on top? You will too.”

  “How is Gray doing?” Callan asked. “Haven’t heard much from him on the circuit lately.”

  “His focus has shifted a lot. He’s doing really well.”

  Callan nodded and then lifted the blanket and gestured for her to come join him in the bed.

  She paused for a moment because she was scared of hurting him, but the thought of being curled up in his arms was just too appealing. Carefully, she climbed into bed next to him and laid her head on his shoulder.

  His arm circled around her back and pulled her even tighter against him. “Sorry, but I think I’m going to miss our date,” he said quietly. “I need to make it up to you.”

  She smiled slightly, just the corners of her lips lifting. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “How long are you in Los Angeles for?” he asked her.

  Technically, she had to be at work on Tuesday, but that did give her the weekend to spend here if she wanted. She didn’t want to overstay her welcome, however, so she decided to stay vague.

  “A few days,” she explained. “I’m booking a room at the hotel down the street from here so I can be close.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. You can stay at my house. Keys are in my pants pocket over in that bag of clothes. Plus, I’ll be able to go home later today or tomorrow if they determine the concussion wasn’t too severe.”

  She glanced toward the hospital bag that he was pointing to. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Of course. Someone needs to water the plants.”

  Josie laughed. “I see. Just using me to do your chores.”

  “I’ll need a detailed report, too. Got to make sure the plants are properly taken care of.”

  “Do you even have plants?” she asked, skeptical.

  Callan shook his head, his telltale smirk on his lips. “Plastic ones.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” she responded, closing her eyes and feeling the pull of sleep.

  Being in the bed was more comfortable than the hospital chair—and having his arms around her? Added bonus.

  “Uh, Mr. and…Mrs. Walsh?” Nurse Rebecca had returned to the room. She looked incredibly nervous, her brows pulled together and her hands fidgeting in front of her. “Uh, can I speak to Mr. Walsh alone for a moment?”

  Callan frowned. “Anything you say to me you can say to my wife.”

  “Your fucking wife?” A shrill voice came from behind Rebecca, and a tall, modelesque woman with platinum-blond hair stepped around the nurse. “You might have mentioned the fact that you have a wife when we were going out on dates.”

  Josie immediately recognized the woman as the one from the tabloids who Callan had been seen out on a few dates with. She quickly sat up and scrambled off the bed, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. Though…had she? Last she’d spoken to Callan at O’Hannigan’s, he’d made it seem that it was nothing serious.

  “Michelle…” Callan put his hand out, as if to tell her to stop. He then turned his attention to the nurse. “Can we have privacy for a moment?”

  “Of course.” Rebecca looked more than thrilled to get out of the room and practically ran to the exit.

  “Well?” Michelle asked, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot. “Do you care to explain why you’d embarrass me like this?”

  “Josie and I are not really married,” he assured the woman.

  Josie tried not to be offended at that remark—after all, it was the truth. However, she couldn’t help but feel slighted at the dismissal. She stood awkwardly to the side, trying to figure out what to do with herself. She wanted to follow Rebecca and run right out of the room, but then part of her wanted to stay and fight for the man she loved.

  Loved?

  The word caught her off guard, and she swallowed hard, trying to push away the feelings. She couldn’t afford to let her heart run away from her right now—not when the man in question might have a girlfriend.

  “Okay…” Michelle replied, letting her arms fall to her sides. “Then what is going on? Because I’m really confused.”

  “Michelle, I’ve really enjoyed going out with you the last few times, but…it was set up by our public relations teams, as you know. It wasn’t…it wasn’t real.”

  The supermodel’s bottom lip quivered slightly. “But…I came to your fight.”

  “You also waited until the next morning to check in on me at the hospital,” he pointed out.

  Josie grimaced because now everything felt awkward as hell.

  Michelle lifted her chin slightly. “I have a very strict sleep schedule. You know that. My skin can’t handle sleeping in a hospital chair overnight.”

  He didn’t reply to that but just waited.

  “And who are you?” Michelle turned her attention to Josie now. “I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Uh…I’m nobody,” Josie quickly assured her. “Just an old friend.”

  Callan cut his eyes to her, an annoyed look on his face. “She’s not just an old friend. She’s the woman I love. The woman I’m going to marry.”

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  An awkward silence filled the room as both women tried to process what he’d just said.

  “Well.” Michelle crossed her arms over her chest again. “I guess that answers that. Call me when this whole thing blows up in your face.”

  “Goodbye, Michelle,” he responded, excusing her.

  Her nostrils flared and she lifted her chin in defiance, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she just turned and walked out of the hospital room, heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.

  Josie stared after her, trying to figure out what to say…or how to absorb everything that had just happened.

  “Jos,” Callan called to her, his hand raised and motioning for her to return to the bed.

  She paused for a minute, unsure of what to do. Finally, she stepped closer but then stopped. “Callan…I don’t know what to say right now.”

  “Say you’ll get in this bed and cuddle with me,” he replied.

  “Am I…am I the other woman?” she asked. “Did I just break up a happy relationship?”

  Callan slowly shook his head and then winced. His head must still hurt from his injuries. “Not even in the slightest. Were Michelle and I seeing each other? Yes. Was it all staged for the paparazzi to help further both of our careers? Also, yes. There were no real feeli
ngs there. No real expectations. Frankly, I’m not even sure why she was upset. She never indicated that she wanted more than a publicity stunt.”

  Josie could kind of see that. The woman had definitely come across as very focused on image. Knowing what she did know about Callan, she couldn’t really imagine him with someone who lacked that much depth.

  “Plus,” he reminded her, “you’re the one who called yourself my wife.”

  She grinned slightly at that. “The poor nurse…”

  Callan laughed. “Oh, my God. She must be traumatized.”

  Josie crawled back into bed with him and wrapped her arm around his chest. “Should we talk about everything else you said?”

  She’s the woman I’m going to marry.

  “We can,” he replied. “I don’t take back any of it. I’m going to marry you one day, Josie Gray.”

  Excitement skittered through her veins at the thought of it.

  “And Josie…” he continued. “I do love you. I am in love with you. You showing up here at the hospital to make sure I’m okay even when you live so far away? That only confirmed it for me. I know without a doubt now…I am, and maybe have been for a longer time than I realized, absolutely head-over-heels in love with you.”

  “Callan…” she began, her breath coming fast and hard as panic began to rise in her.

  “You don’t have to say it back,” he interrupted. “I just wanted you to know. I’m in this. I’m not going anywhere. You pushed me away last year, and I let you. That was a mistake I’m not making again.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Anxiety bloomed in her stomach, fluttering butterflies flying wild. She couldn’t deny that she’d thought the same things, that she was even feeling the same things…but she couldn’t seem to say it out loud.

  At least not yet.

  She needed to know this was real. She needed to know he wasn’t going anywhere. But, more importantly, she needed to know she wasn’t going to run either. Because right now? All she wanted to do was race out of this room and be as far away as possible.

  Because if her heart broke again…

  She wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “I’d say you look pretty distinguished,” Josie said behind Callan as he looked at himself in the mirror. “The scars really add to your features.”

  He turned around to give her a weird face—his nose scrunched up as if he didn’t believe a word she was saying. “You’re blowing smoke up my ass now.”

  She shook her head and then reached out and ran a hand across the line of his jaw. “I’m not. It’s rugged. It’ll just make you look even tougher in the cage.”

  He glanced back at the mirror, surveying his reflection. He had a bandage covering the stitches that cut right through his brow and a dark bruise across his cheekbone that was still swollen. His bottom lip was split but healing, and he could still taste the blood from the fight whenever he thought about it.

  It had felt embarrassing to lose so badly in the championship. He’d won it last year and come in cocky, fully expecting to beat his opponent again like it was nothing. He hadn’t prepared as well as he’d needed to, and for that, he took full responsibility.

  He wasn’t a vain person, and his appearance had never mattered that much to him, but something about the new bruises and scars made a new feeling of self-consciousness begin to bloom in him. Maybe because he’d spent the last two days with Josie, whose dark skin was absolutely flawless and who had cheekbones that could cut diamonds.

  “Come on,” she urged him, pulling on his arm. “Let’s go to bed. I have an early drive in the morning.”

  The reminder struck him like a baseball bat out of nowhere. It had been such a short time—again—but he’d gotten accustomed to her being in his home. The idea of her leaving…well, it felt like last year all over again.

  After his admission in the hospital room, the stakes seemed even higher. He’d put his entire self out there only to be left hanging. She hadn’t responded with her feelings. She hadn’t assured him that she’d stay. She hadn’t given an inch.

  And now she was leaving for Vegas.

  He’d known it was coming. Hell, she had a life to go back to. A brand-new job that she’d earned. He wasn’t going to stand in the way of that.

  But that didn’t mean he was going to let her drop out of his life either.

  “Do you have to go?” he asked, following her to the bedroom hand-in-hand.

  She glanced up at him, squeezing his hand. “It’s where my new job is. I can’t exactly quit now.”

  Of course that was true. Hell, he’d be pissed at her if she quit just to follow him to Los Angeles. He didn’t want to disrupt her life, even though selfishly he wanted to keep her all for himself.

  “Callan?” she called his name softly as she climbed under the covers in the bed and burrowed her way into his side. The king-size memory-foam bed he had was a far cry better than the tiny twin-size beds at the hospital. “Do you… Never mind.”

  “You can’t just start off a sentence like that and say never mind,” he told her. “I’ll go crazy second-guessing what you were going to ask.”

  Her gaze met his, and he saw…fear? She wasn’t one to be very vulnerable, always keeping a tough exterior. It looked like she was afraid to let that part of her out, and yet…she did. For him.

  “I was going to ask…do you want to redo our date night in Vegas sometime? Maybe you come out and visit me?”

  He quickly nodded. “I’d absolutely love that.”

  “Good.” She beamed and placed a kiss against his chest where her head lay. “I’d really like that, but…is it too much?”

  “Is what too much?” he asked, not understanding the question.

  “The long-distance thing.” She bit the corner of her bottom lip. “My life is in Vegas, and it’s going to be for the foreseeable future. Your life is here…and kind of everywhere. You travel so much. Can we make something like that work?”

  He inhaled deeply, thinking about her question seriously. Long distance was a difficult strain on any relationship, and hell, he’d move to Vegas right now if he thought she wouldn’t freak out at the gesture. She didn’t seem…there…yet. She was skittish and nervous, and he wanted her to fully embrace who they were together first.

  “I think that Los Angeles and Vegas are a short flight away from each other, and that if we want something badly enough…we can make anything work,” he finally told her. “So, I guess the question is…do you want to make this work with me?”

  Innocent, big eyes stared up at him. “I do.”

  His chest clutched at her words, his heart pounding hard against his ribs. “Good. I do too.”

  He leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead.

  “In the meantime,” he began, “we could take advantage of…tonight.”

  She lifted her head. “Didn’t the doctor say you need to rest?”

  “He said a lot of things,” Callan said, waving aside the rules like they meant nothing to him. Because…they really didn’t. All that mattered was she was here right now and he wanted to spend more time with her. “That just means that you need to be on top.”

  Josie laughed and then sat up and turned to straddle her leg across his lap.

  “Suit yourself,” she replied.

  Leaning down, she placed a kiss against his lips. His mouth parted, and she let her tongue explore farther. They danced with each other, teasing as she gave a little and then he gave more. His lip where it was cut stung with each movement, but he pushed aside the pain. He didn’t give a shit how hurt he was—nothing was going to stop him from enjoying every inch of Josie’s body.

  Reaching for the hem of her shirt, he gripped the fabric and pulled it up and over her head, separating them for a moment.

  Josie reached behind her and unfastened her bra, letting it fall in a pile between them. He tossed it off the bed and then slid his hands up her stomach to the bottom of her breasts. C
upping them, he held each in his palm and let his thumbs graze over her nipples.

  She shuddered, her nipples perking up beneath his touch. Her eyes closed as she let her head fall back slightly. She pumped her hips up and down, even though they were still both fully clothed. His dick jumped to attention, growing harder with every second she writhed on top of him.

  “Callan…” she moaned out his name, and it sounded like sex against her lips.

  He slid his hands back down her stomach until he got to the hem of her pants. He pushed them down her hips, and she maneuvered herself to help him get them off her. Next were her panties, which she took off herself, as he shimmied out of the sweatpants he was wearing. Their clothes all got thrown to the floor as she pushed the sheets and blankets out of their way.

  “Top drawer in the nightstand,” he told her, pointing to the side of the bed.

  Josie leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer. Grabbing a foil packet, she pulled it out and ripped it open. He moved to take it from her, but she moved her hands out of reach.

  “I want to put it on you,” she said, a teasing, sultry tone in her voice.

  Callan lifted one brow. “Be my guest.”

  She positioned the condom at the head of his dick and rolled it down. He jolted at the feeling of her fist around him. The warmth of her hand, the expectation of what was about to happen…fuck, he could have come right then and there.

  She slid her hips up farther, pushing onto her knees to position herself on top of him. Slowly, tauntingly, she slid down onto his cock.

  “Fuck…” He groaned at the warm, tight feeling and gripped her hips. He thrust his hips upward and pulled hers down.

  She moaned in response, her head falling backward as her tits bounced in his face. Between her pushing up and down on top of him and him thrusting his cock inside her, she rode him hard.

  “You feel amazing,” she said, her words broken and pausing between pumps of his dick.

  He wanted to make her feel amazing—even more so. Sliding one hand between them, he found her clit and rubbed against it with his thumb.

  She bucked forward, her hands falling to his chest as she braced herself against him. Her eyes closed, and a guttural breath escaped her.