by Leigh, Ember
Everything was harder for him, comparatively. And no matter how hard he tried, Levi couldn’t make Gage’s experience in life equal to his own.
“That’s the woman we would have kept up last night with our shenanigans,” Riley whispered as they stood in front of the sliding glass door.
“You mean traumatized,” Levi teased. “You could have woken the dead.”
She scoffed, swatting at him. “Um, excuse me? You’re the one who groaned like a dying bull. It is not my fault you—” She shook her head, shutting up suddenly.
Levi snaked his arm around her waist. “Tell me more about the dying bull.”
She laughed, melting into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. “I can’t. We’ll need to go do something about it if I do.”
They stayed like that, hugging each other, for long enough that Nikki’s group wandered back into the kitchen.
“Oh!” Nikki sounded very surprised. “Don’t mind us. I’m going to make more coffee.”
“Oh my god, make some for me!” Riley pleaded, launching an arm toward her roommate. “I need it.”
“I want you to know, I made coffee for her this morning.” Levi might as well try to clear his name. “But apparently I don’t know how.”
“It’s not apparently. It’s definitely.”
Levi tightened his arms around her waist to get her attention. She snapped her gaze up to his.
“You sure you have to go with them?” Levi asked in a quiet voice. He suddenly didn’t want this to end. He could see them spending the whole day together. Lazing around her bedroom, having sex sweet and slow and then rough and fast while Nikki and her family were gone. Take a shower together, then enjoy dusk on the patio while they waited for food delivery, which obviously he’d pay for. He’d call Tammy—Gage would be fine.
He wanted a day like this. With Riley.
Riley wilted a little. “She’s paying me. It’s a definite thing. I can’t miss it.”
“And what about later?”
She nibbled on her lip, the bad news already written across her face.
“Okay. I get it.” He pushed his palms down, cresting the curve of her ass. “But I don’t like it.”
“I’ll text you later,” she promised, tracing her fingertips along his collarbone. And in that instant, it felt like he’d had her in his arms for weeks. For months. For years. Riley just felt good. He couldn’t explain it. She was hot, and she was sweet, and she was bristly, and she was a mystery. The perfect cocktail of woman.
And damn, he wanted to get drunk on this one.
Chapter 15
Levi stalked through his apartment that day like a cooped-up lion. The marathon of sex the night before had released a lot of energy, but not this kind of energy.
Because what he had brewing inside him utilized only one type of valve.
Getting into trouble.
Gage didn’t want to do much that day, so Levi entertained himself with a jog around the neighborhood and light exercises in the apartment building’s weight room before dinner. After steak and broccoli that evening, Levi was counting the minutes until he could excuse himself from the apartment and go get lost in Hollywood.
He’d had a lot of time to think about the strange new world created that morning. The moment when he’d crossed that invisible barrier erected after his parents passed away. Once he became Gage’s sole guardian, it had made sense to him that he needed to play the father part to a certain degree. Which meant no girls mingling with home life. No partying at the house.
It had become Levi’s responsibility to raise a child. Even though he wasn’t ready. Even though that was the last thing he’d wanted to do in his early twenties. Gage had been ten when their parents passed. Not even a teenager. And Levi went from a reckless, drifting twenty-year-old to a surrogate father.
The whole thing still haunted him. He couldn’t deny that. His life had changed in the blink of an eye, in too many ways to count. And now, six years later and with a degree of success finally reaching him, he couldn’t relax or release that parental role forced upon him.
Part of him hated that Gage had woken up early and tipped off Riley. He really had wanted her to fly under the radar. Unnoticed. Undiscovered. A one-off.
Meshing his two worlds—his real-world life with his sanitized home life—was a serious head trip.
Made worse by the fact that he’d never seen Gage so fucking animated before.
He’d lapped Riley up like water on the hottest summer day. It made him wonder if maybe he’d been wrong to be so militant about keeping Gage protected. Ever since that shitty ex-friend from his Chicago training camp had made Gage think he was responsible for his disability, Levi had gone into hawk mode about who he let into Gage’s sphere.
Gage had enough to deal with, with being a teen and navigating the school system. Levi didn’t need to complicate things by bringing in new friends or flavors of the week.
But Riley? Gage really liked Riley. Levi didn’t have the heart to correct him when he’d called her Levi’s girlfriend. He’d talked about her again over dinner that night. Asked when she’d be coming back. Wondered if they could all go to a movie together.
She made Gage want to do things and step out of the routine.
But despite all the excitement of Riley, the question remained: how would Gage react if Riley stopped coming around?
If he could latch on to her so quickly after one shared breakfast, then Levi was risking a lot by having her become a regular fixture. If Gage liked her this much already, then surely he’d fall in love with her as a new part of his life. Someone to count on. Maybe like a big sister.
And as far as Levi saw it, he wasn’t in the market for that right now. It had to be all or nothing with him. With the way his life was. He couldn’t toy with Gage’s heart like that.
Riley either needed to become a permanent, no-doubt-about-it addition, or Levi needed to fabricate some sad story about how it ended, and Riley would never show her face at the apartment again. For Gage’s sake.
But honestly? Contemplating either of those options made Levi’s chest fill with tension. Which was why he was counting down the minutes until he could go get lost in West Hollywood.
Levi waited until Gage was settled for the night before getting himself into decompress mode. He wore a light gray button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top few buttons undone. His muscles bulged and strained against the fabric of the shirt. Combined with pressed black slacks and expensive dress shoes, he looked and felt as fancy as any other Hollywood A-lister out on the town.
Maybe he’d run into a few, and they could compare notes.
Or maybe he’d take home a set of bloody knuckles.
Levi left his hair down, his preferred style, and ran his hands through it a few times. It had just reached that awkward length between chin and shoulder. He was the only fighter he knew who had long hair, which prompted him to keep at it. One more thing to set him apart. Catapult him higher. And if his hair got him to the top, then people could start calling him Rapunzel.
When his phone dinged with the arrival of the ride share, Levi booked it to the front of the apartment complex. His knees and wrists still ached a little from the fight last night, which was lucky. Some matches left him limping for weeks—he could never tell which one was going to lay him out. And as he sat in the back seat of the ride share, watching the passing palms of Franklin Avenue, his mind came back to the same thought that had been plaguing him for a while now: He couldn’t do this shit forever.
Right now, fighting was his business plan because it was the quickest leg up. Not to mention his passion. He loved training, loved showing his skill in the cage. But in ten more years? Or twenty? He couldn’t be getting kicked in the chest until he was fifty.
He needed a Plan B. Something to ease into once the physical demands became too much.
And that’s what all of this was about. Getting his name out there. Opening doorways to other possibilities. Thro
wing everything at the wall to see what stuck, so that when he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—fight anymore, he wouldn’t be broke, still struggling to pay for his brother’s never-ending medical expenses.
Levi didn’t have it in him not to succeed, either. When his parents had passed, he’d transformed into a caretaking warrior. He had to, or else the pain and sadness would have consumed him alive.
West Hollywood was already buzzing by the time he rolled up to his favorite part of Santa Monica Boulevard. Quirky bars lined the strip, and in his six months out here he’d already run into both Jonah Hill and Shia LaBeouf on casual nights out. That seemed like a good omen. This was the place to be.
And soon enough, he’d be one of the people to see.
Levi hopped between a few different bars, having a beer at each one, before he found the best spot for the night. He’d never been to this bar before, but there were about fifteen photogs waiting outside, so that made his decision for him.
A short line curled out from the mirrored front doors. Levi had barely stepped in line before he overheard one of the photographers say, “I think that’s Levi.”
He tried not to let his excitement show. Kept his face stoic, hands shoved in his pockets. By the time he reached the front doors to show his ID, some of the photographers were snapping his picture already.
“Show us the lead fists!” one goaded.
Levi flashed a grin while he flashed his ID and then clapped the bouncer on the shoulder. As he sauntered inside, he felt like the king of the world. At the mahogany bar that curled around a glass backdrop, Levi ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Because this was the sort of thing that deserved celebrating.
One whiskey bled into two, and two into three. By one a.m., he’d amassed a small clique of new bar friends. Mickey, Trent, and Uri. His buddies for the night, though he’d forget their names by the morning. Shit like this always happened when he went out. They were knee deep into watching replays of the superman punch at the matchup yesterday. The guys peered at his phone, intermittently exclaiming “Awww, shit!” while they watched the footage.
“Dude, can I get your autograph?”
Levi signed forearms and abdomens and one girl’s left tit. He followed them toward the front doors, his whole body warm and tingly. This was the best part about his strict training lifestyle: he was his own cheapest date. Alcohol delivered a swifter punch than anyone, once he’d been sober for weeks. And with this new league’s rapid-fire schedule, it meant he had only a few days each month when he could let loose like this.
The scene in front of the bar had completely changed during the hour or two he was inside. The sidewalk was bustling, people pushing each other around, paparazzi staked out like they were waiting for someone. Levi got pulled along with his new group of friends. He’d decided to tag along as they went to the next bar on the strip, but their movement got held up by a people jam.
Shouts filled the air, and people surged around him. Even through the happy-go-lucky warmth of his hard buzz, Levi felt the aggression skyrocket. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but suddenly, some dickhead had Mickey by the collar of his shirt, hauling him off.
Levi reacted before he could make the decision. This was easy shit for him. He won the bar fights every time. Levi lunged after the dickhead, which allowed Mickey to stumble away. The people on the sidewalk screamed and whooped. Here was the entertainment. For free, this time. Adrenaline filled Levi’s limbs as Mickey, Trent, and Uri egged him on. People started chanting.
Levi let the dickhead lead the way, since he could clearly beat him to unconsciousness without breaking a sweat. It only took a few jabs before the realization crossed the stranger’s face.
“He’s a fucking MMA pro, you douche!” Mickey shouted as Levi dodged yet another failed punch.
Levi figured he might as well give this pop-up crowd something to write home about, so he broke the dickhead’s sunglasses and sent him to his ass with a punch to the face. Levi left with his new buddies feeling even more on top of the world.
“Dude, I bet that was like a fucking walk in the park for you, right?” Uri exclaimed. Trent led the way, parting the crowds as they filed down the sidewalk, yelling for everyone to make way for the new king of MMA.
It wasn’t in Levi’s nature to reject attention like this. He lapped it up. Every last bit of it and then some, until the night turned fuzzy and gray, and the last thing he remembered was checking his phone at three in the morning before ordering one more shot.
Chapter 16
“Levi!”
The shout cut through the fog of his sleep. He jolted awake, staring dumbly at his pillowcase as the pieces of the real world refused to click together.
“Levi! Get up!”
He blinked about a hundred times, twisting to see Gage sitting in his motorized chair in Levi’s bedroom doorway.
“Wh—” Levi began.
“Jesus, your alarm has been going off for forty-five minutes literally,” Gage said.
And that’s when Levi noticed it. The soft church bells that woke him up on the first try any other day. Except for today.
Which came as no surprise, really. As Levi hauled himself onto his back, the unsettled wave that coursed through him made him think he was probably just still drunk. He had no recollection of getting home. What time it had been when he’d gotten here. If he’d thought to drink even an ounce of water.
Levi launched an arm toward his phone on the night stand, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. Ten thirty. Which meant he was late. So late.
“Fuck,” Levi croaked. “Wait. Why aren’t you in school?”
Gage’s eyes narrowed. “It’s an in-service day. Which you knew about.” Gage tutted and backed out of the doorway. “And like…good morning or whatever.”
Levi’s eyes drifted shut again as he pressed a palm to his forehead. He couldn’t do this. He could not. The day that awaited him…it was too much. He needed like eighteen more hours of sleep and an entire gallon of water, administered intravenously.
But at eleven he needed to be at Holt for training. Like the overeager, overzealous, overachiever he was, he’d agreed to an early start time on Monday knowing full well he’d use his one night off to go get fucked up.
But he’d make it work. He always did. This was his MO, after all. Even if it was starting to feel like a bad habit he wished he could quit. Levi groaned as he hauled himself out of bed. His knuckles stung. Dried blood had caked there. Had to be a remnant from last night. Hell if he remembered.
Levi zombie-walked through the morning—bathroom, workout clothes, something resembling conversation with Gage and Tammy, and then out the door. He chugged water as he waited for the ride share, because fuck if he was going to add driving in LA traffic to his task list today.
But as he waited, he used the opportunity to sleep standing up. His eyes drifted shut of their own accord. This was a very bad start to the day. But he had to rally. He had to get the rest in now, so that when he showed up at Holt, he could fool the world.
That was what the mornings after looked like for him. Fake it till you make it. Or in his case, faking sobriety until the hangover passed.
It wasn’t until he stumbled out of the ride share and toward the big steel front doors of Holt Body Fitness, that he noticed the guys lurking around the edges of the landscaping. Dressed in jeans and T-shirts, they could have been anyone. The epitome of regular people.
Until the cameras started snapping. That’s when Levi realized.
Photographers had scouted the gym, waiting for him to get here.
Levi kept his head down as he hurried toward the front door. As the cameras clicked, one of the two guys asked, “How’s your fist feeling after that beatdown last night?”
“Your payout probably wasn’t as big as the fight, though, huh?” the other one said with a laugh.
Levi didn’t respond, just pushed inside the building and beelined for the locker rooms. But Travis and Co. were already waiting
for him at the front desk. Riley was there too, which sent a ripple of guilt through him that he didn’t understand. Maybe because he’d wanted to text her all day and all night, and never did. Maybe because he’d already convinced himself, and even more in his drunken state, that pursuing her was a bad idea. Maybe because the sight of her made him long for something he didn’t have words for.
“Look who finally decided to join us.” Travis didn’t look happy, and the flat line of his mouth combined with his crossed arms sent anxiety streaking through him. Already, this was the worst day ever.
“I’m sorry. I swear.” Levi hoisted his duffel bag higher on his shoulder as he paused at the reception desk. He didn’t bother taking off his sunglasses, even though he was inside. He needed the extra buffer. For personal and for hangover reasons. “I slept through my alarms.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Travis’s tone was bait. Like if he said the wrong thing, he’d really regret it.
Levi shrugged. “Just did.”
Riley rolled her lips inward. She hadn’t bothered to unpack any cameras yet. He should probably tell her to leave. This wasn’t a practice he wanted immortalized.
“Does you being late have anything to do with the photographers outside?” Travis pointed toward the front doors, where they still waited, barely out of sight.
“Uh…” Levi’s head throbbed under the scrutiny. He couldn’t process this. He could barely stand. “Maybe?”
Travis swore under his breath and headed for the hallway to the training camp. “Come on.”
Levi and Riley followed him. Riley sent him a concerned look.
“Are you okay?” she whispered. “You haven’t taken your sunglasses off yet.”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” He sniffed. “Just got this shiner, you know?”
She didn’t look convinced.
In the training camp, Levi dropped off his duffel bag and shed his zip-up while Travis headed for the punching bags lining the far wall. Levi strutted over to him, trying to conjure even an ounce of wanting to punch them.