“They brought you comfort.”
“They still do. Sometimes I wonder when I die if there’s a way I can become one of them. A morbid thought I suppose but there’s something about being a light in the darkness that I like the thought of.”
“Wow, such deep thoughts from such a big muscled scary fighter.”
“You think I’m scary?”
“Terrifying,” she whispers and I don’t think it’s my appearance or profession she’s referring to.
“Why?”
She turns to me and I see her swallow hard, “The way you make me feel is scary as hell.”
“How do I make you feel?”
“You make me feel… happy, safe, nervous, excited, wanted… so many things. All of them scary.”
“You’re missing one.” She looks at me in confusion and I smirk, “You forgot lust. I know you want my body.”
She laughs and her face flushes, “Guilty,” she says and my body gets warm all over.
Reaching out I cup the side of her face, I rise up on one elbow and slowly lower my mouth to hers. When our lips meet it’s like an explosion. We kiss each other like we’re starving for one another. Her lips are soft and familiar. When she tugs on my lower lip with her teeth a crazy feeling of déjà vu rolls through me.
Pulling away, I look into her eyes, “That was better than I remembered.”
She laughs huskily, “Definitely. And back then it was amazing too.”
Placing one more small kiss on her mouth I lie back down and look up at the stars. I want to kiss her again. I want to strip her naked and spend hours rediscovering her body under the stars. But this isn’t the place. I don’t want to be overheard or be seen.
“Oh! Look! It’s a falling star,” she points. “Make a wish.”
“You have to too.”
We’re quiet, both of us taking a chance and throwing our wishes at the stars.
This whole night has been amazing, but also wrong – so, so, wrong. Before our date, I was a nervous wreck. Considering everything that happened with Nico and what he demanded of me I’ve been on edge and have vacillated between crying and vomiting all day. At the kid’s house I even had to excuse myself to the bathroom a couple times just so I could stop and breathe in and out for a few minutes. Focusing on my tasks was difficult and more than once one of the kids asked me if I was okay – especially when I had to ask them more than once to repeat what they said to me. Saying I was a mess is an understatement.
Somehow I was able to lose myself in the monotony of getting dinner made and making sure the kids finished their homework. Before I knew it the doorbell rang and Henry was calling for me to come to the door. Each step was almost painful – to my nerves and to my heart.
But then everything changed.
There he was standing in the doorway and as soon as our eyes met, Nico, his blackmailing me, my nerves, everything just fell away. In Zane’s eyes it was like I found myself again. I remembered the Sutton that he knows – the real me – and everything else disappeared.
It’s easy to get caught up in Zane. Not only is he ridiculously attractive, but he has a way of setting me at ease while heightening other things. Like my sexual attraction to him – it’s off the charts.
Pushing that aside for the moment so I don’t get sidetracked I think about how I loved the way Zane seemed nervous when he arrived at the house. As soon as he started talking to the kids I could see the tension in his shoulders falling away.
Our dinner was perfect, low key with great conversation. It’s nice to be with someone that actually listens to what I have to say – has in interest in me. I found myself telling him things I haven’t spoken of in ages. When he shared part of his past with me too it was like all it did was bond us closer together.
He’s an anomaly – alpha and sexy yet has a vulnerable and sweet side. Basically, he’s perfect. I’m secretly hoping he has a flaw I just haven’t discovered yet.
We’re enjoying a companionable silence enjoying music playing softly through the truck’s speakers. The only interruption is when I give him instructions to my place.
His hand is resting on my knee and I stare at it. Dirty thoughts of grabbing it and pushing it up my leg to press against my core flash through my mind. Looking away and out the window at the thought, I feel my cheeks heat. He brings out a sexual part of me I haven’t felt in some time. I wanted him from the first time I saw him all those years ago, but it’s almost nothing to how I feel now. It’s heightened and maybe it’s because there’s no looming end like there was in rehab. I always knew every second we spent together was being ticked off like the hand on a clock, continuously counting away, the days, hours and minutes until like the sands in an hour glass, our time together would have expired. Oh how many times I wanted that countdown to cease.
Yes, all those thoughts that had me so mixed up at seeing him again had disappeared.
Until now.
I am again haunted by Nico’s threats and the promise he would be watching. Feeling the hair on my arms rising, I recall all that he has said – not just recently – and what he wants me to do now. Nausea rises again and I close my eyes and desperately try to calm myself with deep breaths in and out.
When I feel in control once again I clear my throat and prepare myself to ask the questions I know I must ask. Nico already told me he’d be in touch with me soon and expected to get some ‘helpful’ information from me at that time. He said it in a way that made it clear it was not an idol threat.
I begin by asking him how he got into fighting and how long he’s been competing. He doesn’t seem bothered by the questions, and in fact, quite the opposite and answers without question. It makes transitioning to more direct questions easy.
“I think you mentioned before that you have a fight coming up?”
“Did I? I don’t remember, but yeah I sure do. It’s been all I’ve had my mind on… until recently,” he glances at me and smiles.
It distracts me for a second. His hand absently reaches up and he scratches his chest. Of course my eyes drop there and laser focus on his pectoral muscles that are outlined in the t-shirt.
“It’s so hard.”
Zane chokes, “What was that?”
“Uh, is it hard? The fight. Is it going to be hard?” Oh my god could I be more embarrassing? Best to not test it.
He looks at me in a way that tells me he knows exactly where my mind was and somehow by sheer force of will I’m able to keep my expression blank.
“All fights can be hard, we’re evenly matched. They make sure of it or it wouldn’t be fun for the fans.”
“Is it an important one?”
He tries to look offended, but just comes off amused, “How dare you. All of my fights are important.”
“Oh, excuse me. I’m so sorry. Allow me to rephrase. What I meant to say was, is this a championship fight? Some rivalry that’s been going forever or is the prize a big one or something? I mean, I don’t know anything about what I’m asking to be honest. I’m just wanting to know more about it because it’s something you do and love.”
He turns to me smiling while we’re at a red light. “Comparing my fights to a football or baseball season helps make sense of it. Each fight during the ‘regular season’ for lack of better words is always important because they’re about building my record. Wins and losses are tallied and the more wins I have the tougher my opponents get. They match us up by our records so the better I fight, my competition is equal to my caliber and the prize money gets higher each time.”
“So like the more you win the higher you rank or something?”
“Yes, that’s a good way of looking at it. I want to be unbeatable because then the fights become better, we build an audience that’s excited to see the match up’s and the money and bragging rights gets better.”
“That makes sense.”
He begins driving again when the light turns green and I give him instructions once more knowing we’re almost there.
> “This fight is exciting because if I win, I’ll fight for the title in my weight class for this year. It’s a really big deal for me.”
“Are you nervous? Do you get nervous?”
“Nah, not really. I love fighting, I’m good at it and the bragging rights and money is great. I’ve been doing it so long that I don’t get nervous anymore but I always get fired up. I want to be the best. I’m lucky enough to make money doing something I love and the only way I get to keep doing it is if I’m good at it, the fans keep wanting to see me fight and it’s worth my time and energy.”
“Are you? The best?”
He smiles sinfully, “I guess you’ll have to find out.”
Good lord I think he’s talking about fighting but my mind sure as hell went into the gutter.
“I’ll tell you what though, I have to be careful in this business.”
“Because you can get beat to hell?” I ask.
“No, and fuck woman, have some confidence in my fighting ability.”
I laugh realizing how that sounded.
“Sorry.”
“I was just teasing you, cupcake. What I mean though is that the money, the attention from the fans and the MMA organization – all of it could go to my head if I’m not careful. In a way it could become another addiction for me. It would be easy to get greedy for more and more.”
“How? I mean, your fights are scheduled for you, right? So even if you got greedy, would it be dangerous?”
“Greed is always dangerous, we should know that better than anyone.”
Nodding I agree, “Don’t I know it.” Nico is the epitome of a person getting caught up in greed and not giving a crap about anything else except himself and how he can get more, more and more.
“But if my betting started again and got bad enough there’s a whole underground fighting ring. It’s bad and a lot of guys get caught up in it and all the dangerous things it entails.”
“That sounds scary.”
“It is. One of my close friends was caught up in underground fighting for a while.”
“He’s okay?”
“He’s great actually. But I know myself, and the minute I feel like I’m losing myself again to addiction, if I start feeling greed build within me again, I’m out. I won’t fight anymore. It isn’t worth it. I won’t ever do what I did before to myself or the people I love again.”
“Sounds like you have a good attitude about it and if I had to guess you’ve also got good friends that help keep you grounded.”
“Yep. Plus, it’s all in my perspective. When I step into the octagon, everything I do, everything I say is all part of my brand. I take it serious as hell, but at the same time I don’t define myself by it like many do. I’m far too confident in myself for that shit.”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me.”
He grins and I can easily imagine how crazy his female fans must get when they see that grin flashed at them. Hell, even I’m ready to flash him my tits and ask him to have my babies. Well, more babies. Shit – reality sets in once more.
He pulls up to the gate at my community. I give him the code and he punches it in and we watch the gates swing open.
“Anyway,” he continues, “My approach, my attitude works for me. I don’t let my opponents get in my head that way. Do I want to win? Fuck yes, but it’s not the end of the world if I don’t.”
“You don’t think that the fighters that basically feel like it’s do or die have an advantage?”
“Nope. Wanna know why?”
“Why?”
“Because they’re more afraid of failure than I am. I take it or leave it. I have no fear of failure. I know if I’m prepared, I have a great likelihood of winning. I also know that occasionally, the other person may be better prepared and I will lose. In the meantime, I’m getting to kick the shit out of people doing combat sports I love and am good at and get paid for it. Win or lose in the octagon, I’m winning at life. There’s no failing in my mind.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Nah, it’s just a fact.”
“Do you think you’ll win your fight? Who are you fighting? Is he as good as you?”
He gives me that look again and I laugh and hold up my hands in a universal gesture of apology.
“I’m fighting Harrison ‘Hurricane’ Henderson. How do you like that name?”
“Harrison Henderson? Sounds like his parents hated him.”
He chuckles, “I don’t know about that, but it’s definitely unforgettable. Anyway, he’s a good fighter, actually, I’m not being fair – he’s a great fighter. He’ll be tough to beat and it’s certainly an even match.”
“I just don’t understand how you step into a fight like that knowing that you could potentially take punches to your person that will hurt like hell.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy when you think about it like that, I guess. But in the middle of the fight I’m so fired up and going on adrenaline I don’t even feel the pain from a jab or punch or kick right then. It isn’t until after the fight when I start to calm down and relax that the pain sets in. Then there’s massages, ice and meds that help with that.”
“I think it would be hard to watch.”
“But you’ll come and watch anyway, right?”
“Do you want me there?”“I want you there.”
“Then I’ll be there,” I promise.
“Besides, rumor has it that Harrison has been icing his right shoulder. I don’t know if the rumor has any validity to it, but you can bet your ass I’ll be landing a ton of jabs there just in case.”
“How did you hear about that?”
He shrugs once he turns off the truck now that we’re sitting in a parking lot, “Rumors always fly around before a fight. You just have to know who may actually have legit information and who is likely just making shit up and blowing smoke up your ass.”
He hops out of the truck and comes around to my side and helps me step down. “When exactly is your fight? You just said soon.”
“It’s this weekend.”
“Okay, let me know the time so I can arrange child care for Ryan, okay?”“You got it,” he takes my hand.
“You don’t have to walk me up if you need to get going.” I feel nervous. I’ve never had a man come into my place with Theresa there. I feel like a child and try to shake it off. Ryan should be asleep so at least I don’t have to fear that right now.
He frowns, “You’re kidding right? What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to the door? Maybe I’m hoping you’ll kiss me goodnight at your door, or even invite me in.”
He’s grinning and his blue eyes are sparkling from the light that’s shining out the entryway door and the parking lights overhead.
“Wow, sounds like you have high hopes,” I tease.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the saying that you should never stop believing in hope because miracles happen everyday.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended. You’re saying kissing me is a miracle because it’s so great? Or are you saying I’m so uptight that getting a kiss would be a miracle?” He begins laughing, “I mean there are a couple ways I could take that.”
“You know, that didn’t occur to me. Maybe what I mean is that your kisses are so amazing any man would hope to obtain one; they’re miraculous, like heaven on earth.”
“Oh wow, you’re good. And cheesy.”
We laugh together as I lead him to my apartment door. Once there, I unlock it and turn back to look at Zane over my shoulder, “I need to take care of Theresa, Ryan’s care giver, but then I can grab you a night cap if you’re interested.”
“That sounds great.”
With a deep breath I open the door and hold it open for him and he follows me inside. Once we’re standing in the entryway of my small apartment, I realize how large Zane actually is. He fills the entire space. The apartment is spacious and beautiful but it suddenly feels small next to his muscular and tall frame.
&nbs
p; Turning to Theresa as she stands from the couch, I smile at her and note the knitting she’s working on. Looks like a very nice and warm purple scarf.
“Hi Theresa, how did it go?”
“Ryan was an angel just like always,” she answers me but her eyes keep swinging to Zane in blatant curiosity. I can’t say I blame her. I’m sure she’s internally wondering what Nico would think. She knows how he is.
“He ate all of his dinner, had a bath and insisted I read him three stories tonight,” she laughs softly and I can see the love she has for my son in her eyes. I have no doubt that she would have read as many stories as Ryan wished if he had kept insisting.
“He ate a good dinner?” I ask.
“He did. He wanted a grilled cheese of course but I convinced him to try my homemade chicken noodle soup and he loved it.”
“Oh that’s great. Thank you for making that for him.”
“Of course, honey. And I kept some leftovers in the refrigerator for you. There’s plenty… if needed,” she states her eyes swinging from me to Zane.
“Thank you. So much. Also, Theresa, this is Zane, Zane this is Theresa - Ryan’s nanny. I have no idea what either Ryan or I would do without her. We’d definitely be lost.”
“You wouldn’t either. You’re a wonderful mother, give yourself more credit.”
“You’re too kind.”
“No, I’m truthful. Okay, I’m going to head home now. Zane it was very nice to meet you.”
“You too, Theresa. May I please walk you to your car?”
She looks at me and smiles widely and just like that the nerves I felt at her curiosity fall away, “Well aren’t you a gentleman? That would be lovely,” she says to Zane as she grabs her things.
Zane holds the door open for her then turns to me, “I’ll be right back.”
When they disappear I sneak down the hall and check on Ryan. It’s crazy to think that Zane is so close to his son, closer than he’s ever been and he has no idea. Regret, fear and a desire to tell him run through me. I’ve never wanted to tell him more.
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