“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’d like to keep training, I’ll keep fighting, just for fun, but I’m done competing. It was beautiful while it lasted, but it’s time to move on.”
“What are you going to do?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll give you a run for your money and open up my own gym.”
Chema laughs. “I’d love some competition, Tini,” he says and musses my hair like I’m a child.
“Only Pilar is allowed to call me that.”
“Uh-huh.”
Something, or someone, catches Chema’s attention from behind me, and he nods. I twist around to look where Chema’s eyes are focused, and a stone so heavy drops in my stomach that I fail to stand up when I try.
Chema stands first and reaches out a hand to help me to my feet.
Too stunned to form words, I follow Chema wordlessly off the mat until we both reach the spot where Rory Dennis stands.
“Hey, buddy,” Chema says and takes Rory into a hug.
I blink. ‘Buddy?’ What the hell is going on?
“Hi, Chema. Nice to see you.”
“You too,” says Chema. “Let’s talk soon, but right now, I’m going to, um—I’m going somewhere else for absolutely no reason. Valentina, take my office if you want it.”
I can only shake my head.
Rory’s face lights up as he takes me in. “You look so good, Valentina.”
“Um, thanks.” I tuck my unruly hair behind my ear and start unwrapping my knuckle wraps with shaky hands. “What are you doing here, Rory?”
“Thought I’d check out the gym. Thinking about picking up boxing.” He blinks at me when I stay quiet, staring at him.
Nothing’s changed about him, while I look entirely different from the last time he saw me. Luckily, it’s a change for the better.
“I’m joking,” he says finally. “I’m here for you.”
I peer around us to see if anyone is within earshot. Chema is on the other end of the gym with Nico, probably telling him everything about Rory. It’s the off hours at the gym, my favorite time to train, so only a couple of other people are around.
“Here for me?” I ask.
“Yes. I can't stop thinking about you.” Again I say nothing to that. “Do you think I could get a hug? I’ve missed you.”
As if I have no control of my body, I step forward and wrap around him, resting my cheek on his chest right over where I know his scar is. Neither of us comments on my sweat dampening his shirt. His arms envelop around me and squeeze tightly while his cheek lands on top of my head. Being in his arms like this feels like finally being home. I thought I’d feel that way when I returned to my apartment, my friends, and family, but it hadn’t. That feeling eluded me until right now, cocooned in Rory’s arms.
“I’m so happy I don’t have to be careful, worried about crushing you.”
I pull away from him only long enough to look into his green eyes. “You’re here.”
“Yes. I’m here. I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“Is it okay that I’m here? I know you wanted me to stay away, and I respected those wishes as long as I humanly could.”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, I’m glad to see you, but I wish you hadn’t come.”
“That makes no sense.”
“We live in different countries. I don’t believe long-distance relationships can work.”
“That’s not what I’m proposing here.”
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then what are you proposing?”
“This,” he says and pulls away from my arms. He drops to one knee and looks up at me. He produces a small box from his pocket, and I take a step back, shaking my head.
“Valentina Almonte, I’ve had to face the possibility of losing you more times than my poor, scarred heart can take. I don’t want to spend another second of my life without you. Will you marry me?”
I haven’t yet processed his presence in this gym in Mexico—I certainly can’t process the life-altering question he has asked me.
It suddenly dawns on me that he and Chema have been in contact with each other. How else would he know where to find me? Where I’d be and when? Chema. That’s how.
“You’ve been talking to Chema?”
Rory’s face falls, and he stands. “I’m sorry,” he says, clasping the back of his neck. “I had to know you were okay. Please don’t be mad at him. It was all me.”
“How did you even get his number?”
“We did spend quite a bit of time together in waiting rooms.”
I find Chema sitting at the front desk, grinning at me, but his grin disappears when he sees the daggers my eyes are shooting his way.
He stands and walks over to us. “Is everything okay?” Chema asks with a worried expression.
“You knew he was coming, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know specifics, but I knew he would be coming to see you at some point.”
“You two have been talking about me?”
The two guilty expressions look at each other, then they both hang their heads and stare at their shoes.
“I see,” I say and take a step back, not sure what to make of all this.
Rory looks at Chema with a wide grin. “Full disclosure,” Rory says to Chema, “I asked her to marry me.”
“I saw that,” says Chema with a grin of his own.
“I have to say, I thought you’d be angered by that,” says Rory, looking confused.
“Why would I be angry?” Chema asks.
“I thought you—”
“Honey,” Nico walks up to Chema. “I’m heading out early. I want to get groceries before heading home. I’ll have a special dinner for you tonight.” Nico winks at Chema and gives him a peck on the lips. “And who is this handsome fella?” he asks, reaching out to shake Rory’s hand, scanning his body.
“Valentina’s fiancé,” Chema says.
“Valentina’s what?” Nico’s eyes widen with surprise.
“Well, she hasn’t answered yet,” Rory says, “but, um—you are . . .”
“Gay?” Chema asks. “Yeah. I’m gay.”
“I thought you and Valentina—”
“Nope. Never,” Chema assures Rory.
“Wait, he thought you and Valentina what?” Nico asks with a raised eyebrow.
Rory clears his throat and suddenly can’t look at the two men standing next to us. “I’m sorry, I made assumptions—”
“Wait, you thought Chema and Valentina . . . No!” Nico squeals and lets out a roar of laughter. “Have you never met a gay man before?”
“Amor,” Chema says, “we’re ruining their engagement. Come on, let’s go—”
I finally snap out of my stupor. “No,” I say. “I’m glad you two have planned out my future without discussing it with me, but you have failed to recognize that I’m not property, and neither of you owns me.”
The nerve.
I storm toward the locker room and don’t hear the steps behind me from Rory following. I’m pulling my bag out of my locker when he finds me.
“I’m sorry. That’s not how I intended things to go,” he says softly.
“Really? You didn’t intend to propose when I’ve been at the gym sweating my ass off? You didn’t plan all this with Chema? Tell me, Rory, did he help you pick out a ring?”
“No, that’s not what . . . um, I was going to ask you to dinner and propose then.”
“Why did you do it here, then?”
“I saw you.”
“So?”
“That’s it. I saw you, and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand you being with anyone other than me for a second longer.”
“Like property,” I say.
“No. Not like property. I’m in love with you. That hasn’t changed. And damn it, Valentina. I know you love me too. Be honest with yourself. Be honest with me. And don’t get me started on how you let me think you
and Chema—”
“Let’s suppose for a moment you’re right. It changes nothing. You live in Kansas City. I live in Mexico City.”
“I’ll move here, if that’s what it takes.”
I rear back and blink at him. “You would?”
“Yes. Nothing’s more important to me than never again spending a minute apart from you.”
“What about your residency?”
“I’ll start over. Here.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t speak Spanish.”
“I’ll learn.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re willing to drop your residency, move to a foreign country, get married, and practice medicine here? But to do all that, you’ll learn Spanish first?”
Rory nods, and the corners of his mouth quirk up. He takes a step forward and cups my cheek in his hand. “I’m way ahead of the curve. I already know how to say lagaña.”
I punch his middle playfully, and his abs are hard on impact. “I’m being serious,” I say.
“I don’t know, Valentina. If I can’t, then I’ll find something else I can do. None of that matters so long as you’re healthy and by my side. We can work out everything else.”
“You really mean it, don’t you?”
“I do.” He pulls out the box again. “Now, please. Will you please marry me, you stubborn woman?”
I grab the box and cradle it in my hand. It’s open, and a simple round diamond glistens in the center, set in a minimalist gold band. My eyes mist over because I never imagined this outcome. I’d pictured every other outcome for my life, or my death, but not one where I lived and got to keep Rory.
“It was my mother’s,” Rory explains. “She gave it to me as soon as I told her what I was about to do.”
“Oh, Rory. It’s beautiful.” I bring my hand to my mouth to hold my gasp.
The tears in my eyes blur my vision, so I have to bring the box closer to my face so I can keep looking at it.
“You haven’t given me an answer,” Rory says, his voice deepening with his frustration.
I want to scream, ‘yes!’ But I can’t. There’s too much at stake. Too much to consider. “Can I think about it?”
His face falls for a second, but he recovers quickly. “I guess I shouldn’t have done this in a locker room, huh?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just—we’d have to figure some things out before—“
His head snaps up as his mouth curves upward into a smile.
“I didn’t say ‘yes,’” I clarify. “Let’s talk, and then we can decide if we are ready for this step. Okay?”
He answers by pulling me toward him and kissing me.
I missed kissing Rory. The sweetness with which he always starts and how it turns hungry so quickly without fail. Every single time.
Rory pushes me back against a locker and lifts me by my ass. I wrap both legs around his middle to stay up. I feel him hardening through his jeans, and my body awakens. It feels alive for the first time since before I started treatment. This part of me has been dormant for almost a year now, and only Rory has the key to free it.
His hand drops to the hem of my shirt, and I panic. Not only am I already self-conscious about being sweaty and smelly from my workout, but now I also have to worry about him seeing my scars. No one has seen those except my doctors.
Then there’s the fact that anyone could walk in at any moment, plus the more important fact that I have no lube with me. I wince just thinking about Rory’s size.
“Um—Rory. Please stop.”
He listens and pants, his forehead pressed to mine. “Sorry.” He says. “Got carried away.”
I smile. “I know. Me too.” I drop my legs to find the ground and give him one last quick kiss. “Want to see my place?”
Rory chuckles. “I’d love to see your place.”
Chapter 22
We go to his hotel first to pick up his bags. I drive. I insist he shouldn’t stay in a hotel but should stay with me instead. Rory is quick to grab his luggage from his room and check out. He is back in the car with me in no time, winded.
He smiles at me and kisses me on the lips like we have been apart for a long time instead of the fifteen minutes it took him to get back to my car. He keeps his hand on my thigh the entire time as I drive to my place.
Pilar’s generosity has extended to getting me suitable living arrangements, but I’ve insisted on staying on the modest side, at least the ‘modest side’ by my family’s standards.
We pull up to my apartment building, and I park in the lower-level garage.
“Well, this is it.”
I help him with the smaller of his bags, and we make our way inside. I twirl the keys in my hand as we ride the elevator to the sixth floor. When we get inside my apartment, I glance around, hoping I haven’t left anything terribly embarrassing lying about.
For the most part, I keep the place clear of clutter. I’m a fairly neat person, but it comes as second nature from the years of disciplined training more so than from an actual desire to keep a clean home.
“It’s great,” says Rory. “Mind if I look around? I want to see what kinds of things you like for when we move in together.”
“If we move in together,” I correct.
“Right. Assume I mean ‘if’ when I talk about plans, okay?” He asks.
“You could move in here,” I say nonchalantly.
“Sure. Then you need to see my place for the kinds of things I like.”
My apartment is small, with only one guest bedroom, and I follow Rory as he glances around every room. He enters my bedroom last, and I follow him there too.
Rory picks me up in his arms and carries me to the bed.
“I don’t know if we’ll live here or not, but just in case, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to carry you in.”
“I’m not a traditionalist, Rory.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” I say and chuckle into his neck.
He sets me down gently on the bed so I can sit on the edge. He sits next to me and cradles my face in his hands. He kisses my forehead, but it’s sweet, not sensual. He peppers kisses down my face until he reaches my neck. In that crevice between my jaw and my neck, the kisses turn hungry, and I feel his tongue tasting me. Rory lets out a groan from deep within his chest.
“Now, where did we leave off at the gym?” he asks. He reaches for the hem of my shirt, and I know he wants to take it off.
“Rory, wait. We have to talk.”
“Uh-oh. I know the sound of that.”
“No, it’s just . . .” I trail off, unsure how to word this for him.
My brain flashes back to our first time together. We had stood in my apartment, and he’d seemed so scared and afraid that I would judge his body for the scar on his chest. It had broken me a little bit at the time that he had something on his body he had no control over that he had to explain before any sexual encounter.
In a mirror-opposite situation, I now have to explain my scars.
And the scars are just the tip of the iceberg we will have to climb together if we are ever to be intimate again.
“Rory—” I say, but my voice hitches. “I want to give you an out.”
“An out?” he asks.
“Yes. An out. My body has changed significantly since we were together like this the last time.”
“I’m aware,” Rory says matter-of-factly. “I know how your body has changed.”
“It’s one thing to know it, though, isn’t it? And another to experience it.”
“There’s nothing about your body I won’t love.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t know.”
Rory brushes a loose strand of hair from my face. “Tell me what you need to feel comfortable—no—tell me what you need to feel as sexy as I see you.”
This man is unreal. He can’t be real. I clear my throat. “We can be intimate, but only if you promise that after, if you change your mind about proposing, you’ll tell me.”<
br />
“That’s stupid, but from the look on your face, I think I better agree to this, if only to make you feel comfortable.”
I nod. “You do.”
“Okay. I promise if I change my mind, I will tell you, but I can tell you now there isn’t a shot in hell—”
“Rory! Stop.” I chuckle.
“Do you remember what you told me last year?” he asks.
“Can I get a hint?”
“Before I took my shirt off for the first time?”
I shake my head, unable to think about anything except Rory Dennis, naked and mine.
“You told me fighters find scars sexy as fuck.”
“Oh,” I gasp. I hadn’t been expecting that. I’d forgotten those words from what seems like a lifetime ago.
“Is that what you’re worried about? Because you don’t need to be. You’re a fighter, and if you’re sincere when you tell me you find my scarred chest sexy, then you have to believe I’m sincere when I tell you that your scars of being a survivor are also sexy as fuck to me.”
I nod. How could he know what I’m feeling without me saying it? He chips away at every insecurity I have. I was afraid he’d think my apartment is shitty compared to my apartment in KC, but he loves my home. I was worried he’d find my body lacking in its new form, but he is a doctor. He knows how much my body has changed, probably more than I do.
“That’s part of it,” I say finally.
“Look. I know you have tiny laparoscopic scars in the lower abdomen. I also know you had additional surgery and a larger scar in your torso. The small scars will match the dimples on your lower back that drive me wild, and the larger scar, well, that one will point me home. I’ll love every inch of your body, even if it is covered in a hundred scars. I promise.”
Bunching his shirt in my hands, I pull him in for a kiss because that little speech of his deserves to be rewarded. “Okay,” I say. “If you trusted me to see your body, I’ll trust you to see mine.”
I hate that the confidence I once commanded is all gone, but somehow, the fact that it’s Rory who is about to see me naked soothes me. I stand in front of him while he sits on the edge of my bed. I take a deep breath and pull my top over my head. The lights are on, and every cell in my body commands me to turn them off, but I refuse. I will trust Rory Dennis with my body because he once trusted me with his. I hadn’t let him down then. I’m hoping he won’t let me down now.
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