Xavier: A Friends-to-Lovers MMA Romance (A Cocky Cage Fighter Legacy Novel Book 1)

by Lane Hart

I’ve always just been his goofy buddy who he would drink root beer with on hot summer days and crash on my sofa when we stayed up late watching action movies.

  Never, ever, before did he treat me like the other girls. I may as well have had a dick between my legs as far as he was concerned.

  Today, though, he hasn’t been watching me like an older, protective brother.

  No, he’s been staring at my boobs like he’s never seen them before.

  When we were in high school, I was completely flat chested. My mother kept promising me that my boobs would grow in one day. That day never came. So, I took things into my own hands and got implants when I was twenty, not for a man or to try to find a man, but because I felt like I was missing a fundamental part of my body. My self-esteem was at rock bottom, so there was nowhere to go but up. And it was the best decision I ever made. Guys started talking to me afterwards, and I’ve told myself it’s my new confidence around them and not the breasts. Either way, I’ve never regretted the decision.

  In fact, I may send my plastic surgeon a thank you card tomorrow, because Xavier has never looked at me like this…like he thinks I’m an attractive woman.

  Growing up together, we’ve been friends since before girls liked boys and boys liked girls. It didn’t take long for me to develop a crush on him, though. But there was never even a hint of interest in his dark eyes for me.

  Until now.

  Knowing Xavier, now that he’s divorced, he’s probably gone back to his womanizing ways, sleeping with every female who walks by him. That’s what he did in high school. And in college. Then in law school, until his final year when he met the gold-digging bitch who wrapped him around her finger.

  I wouldn’t possibly consider ruining twenty years of friendship for a one-night stand with him.

  Okay, I would consider it, but no, in the end, I couldn’t actually do it. Xavier may have been living on the other side of the country for the last three years, but we’ve always kept in touch. The best part is that no matter how much time goes by, I can pick up the phone, call him, and we’re right back to where we left off.

  Sometimes he would ask to call me right back, and I knew he was making an excuse to leave the house, most likely because Camilla didn’t like when he talked to me. She made her opinion of me clear after their wedding when she pulled me aside and waved her wedding band in my face.

  “Xavier’s mine now, Cassidy. Let him go, or I will make your life a living hell,” she had warned.

  “You may have married him ten seconds ago, but it’ll take more than a threat from a stuck-up cunt to end seventeen YEARS of friendship.”

  She had scoffed and walked off without another word. And thankfully, she didn’t nag Xavier to keep him from staying in touch. Of course, we talked less than before, but that’s expected since he had a new life and a new wife in another state far, far away from me.

  Damn, I’ve missed him.

  When he called and told me a few months ago that he left her, I had to put the phone on mute so that I could jump up and down and shout in celebration. Good thing we weren’t on video chat, because I wouldn’t have been able to hide my reaction.

  Now he’s here where I can see all of him and touch him…

  And I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself.

  No, no, no. I have to! Friendship is way more important than a hot, sweaty night rolling around in bed naked with the sexiest man in the universe.

  This is what vibrators were made for, right? To fulfill fantasies that will never come to fruition. It’s just that I’ve never used one when the object of my desire was sleeping right down the hall…

  Not that I’ve been using my vibrator often lately thanks to Eddie and Mike, my fuck buddies. Eddie, I met at the gym. He’s a narcissistic bodybuilder with a huge ego and no plans for a long-term relationship. The same goes for Mike, a rock-climbing enthusiast. Which is fine with me, for now at least. I’ve fooled around with both guys a few times a week, no strings attached, no feelings, no exclusivity, just dinner sometimes before good old-fashioned sweaty romps in the sheets. Mike has agreed to go with me to our high school reunion on Saturday, but I only asked him because I didn’t want to be the loser who showed up ten years after graduation still single and alone.

  If I had known Xavier was coming, I would’ve suggested he and I go together instead, but that’s probably a bad idea based on the naughty thoughts I’m already having about him. Dirty, dirty urges that I’ve never had about any other man, neither Mike nor Eddie, like taking a bite out of Xavier’s big, juicy ass and filling my mouth with his hard cock.

  Needing to cool down my hormones and my flushed face, I open my freezer door and stick my entire head inside.

  “You need any help?”

  Startling when I hear his voice, I slam the freezer door shut on the side of my face before turning around and coming nose to nose with Xavier. We’re so close I can drown in the sexy sandalwood and ocean scent of his rich boy cologne. God, it’s worth every single penny.

  “No. No, I’m good,” I say in a rush. “Are you? Do you need anything? A beer? Root beer?”

  “Sure,” he says. “A beer would be great.”

  Turning back around, I open the fridge and pull a can out. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, Cass,” Xavier says as he pops the top and takes a sip. “Not just for the beer but for everything. I love my folks, but they always ask a million questions about my life and then put a guilt trip on me about not visiting enough.”

  “Now that I can agree with them on,” I tell him. “You do need to visit more.”

  “I know,” he agrees. “Works just been…busy. I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg for this week off.”

  Don’t picture him on his knees, Cassidy. Do. Not. Do. It.

  Too late.

  “Are you, um, still with the same firm?” I ask since we don’t usually talk about his work. Not that I haven’t tried, but Xavier usually changes the subject. Anything to stop thinking about him on his knees…

  “Uh-huh,” he says between sips of beer. “How’s the store?”

  “The store is great –”

  “Cassidy!” John yells from the living room. “We’re ready to start the third round!”

  “Coming!” I call back as I straighten. “Duty calls.”

  “Right,” Xavier says.

  “You’re bored out of your mind with all this football talk, aren’t you?” I ask him with a wince.

  “It’s not that bad,” he replies. “Although, I will be glad when it’s over so it’s just me and you.”

  “Me too,” I agree, even though being alone with Xavier, wanting him even though I know I can’t have him, is a form of torture I’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

  Chapter Three

  Xavier

  “So, tough guy, did you play football in high school?” one of Cassidy’s “friends” comes up and asks me where I’m holding up the wall, trying to stay out of the way.

  “No, I wrestled and boxed,” I answer. “Never really got into football.”

  “Huh,” he mutters while sipping his can of beer. “Hard to believe Cass would be friends with someone who doesn’t like her favorite sport.”

  “Well, she makes an exception for me,” I tell him with a shit-eating grin.

  “Huh,” he huffs again like he’s not impressed with me or our friendship.

  “Chuck, it’s your pick!” Cass calls out from where she’s playing Vanna White at the enormous white board, writing each person’s choice of player.

  “Oh shit,” the man next to me says as he hurries over to her. He says something to Cass that I can’t hear, making her laugh so hard she snorts and slaps his shoulder. She’s totally flirting with him. In fact, she’s been flirting with all of these men she considers ‘just friends’ for hours, making me feel like I’m not all that special. I used to think Cass had a thing for me, but maybe this is just how she is with the opposite sex, fun and sexy, and I ne
ver noticed because she was too shy back in high school.

  Finally, hours later, after what feels like an eternity, the last man leaves Cass’s house.

  “You’re different,” I tell her while I help her clean up her friends’ trash.

  “Really? How so?” she asks when she looks over at me with a grin, an empty beer can in each of her hands.

  “You’re more outgoing. In high school, you wouldn’t talk to guys, but today you were surrounded by them and didn’t seem awkward at all.”

  “I had to get over my insecurities with the opposite sex after you left. And running the store sort of forced me to learn to talk to men.”

  “You don’t just talk to them, you enthrall them,” I tell her with a shake of my head and a chuckle.

  Dumping the cans in the garbage, she turns to me and asks, “What does that mean?”

  “Oh, Bambi, don’t even pretend like you don’t notice those guys checking you out and hanging on your every word,” I reply. “It’s a rush, right?”

  “The positive attention is…flattering I guess,” Cass says with a shrug of her shoulders. “You would know, right? Mr. Homecoming King, Captain of the Wrestling Team, Prom King, Class President. Did I miss any of your many, many important titles?”

  “Captain of the Debate Team and State Mathlete Champion.”

  “Oh, right,” Cass says. “How could I forget? You were king of the jocks and the nerds.”

  “What can I say? God blessed me with brains and brawn.”

  “And apparently skimped on the humility,” she teases with a grin and roll of her grassy-green eyes when she flops down on the sofa.

  “Still,” I say when I toss the trash I collected away and go sit down beside her. “Even with all my many, many titles, I was envious of you.”

  “Liar!” she accuses before reaching for a blue throw pillow and hitting me in the chest with it.

  “I was. Hell, I still am!” I declare. “You knew what you wanted to do with your life and never hesitated to just go for it. You’ve got balls, Bambi. I’m jealous of your big, brass balls.”

  “Oh, whatever, Xavier,” she replies with a huff. “You went to college on a full academic scholarship and finished first in your law school class. That’s pretty damn impressive. You’ve hands down kicked everyone in our graduating class’s ass. They’re going to be so jealous of your success this weekend.”

  “Maybe so,” I agree. “But why do I feel like I’ve wasted the last ten years of my life?”

  Cass’s jaw drops after that statement. When she recovers, she softly asks, “Do you really feel that way?”

  “In college, I thought I would be happy after I graduated. In law school, I thought I would be happy when I started practicing. Well, I’ve been practicing for a year, and I’m not there yet. I keep telling myself that, after I make partner, then I’ll be all set; but I’m starting to think that may not be true.”

  “Jesus, Xavier. I had no idea you were so miserable.”

  “I’m not exactly miserable,” I reply. “It’s just…my life is the equivalent of being forced to constantly wear a suit that’s too small for me. It’s uncomfortable, and sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.”

  When Cass doesn’t respond to that, I ask, “Everyone probably goes through the same thing, right? Who doesn’t carry around a few regrets? Do you ever wish you would’ve gone to college?”

  “No,” she answers without having to think about it. “I don’t have any regrets about my path, because I’m certain that there’s nothing out there that would make me happier than spending the day surrounded by all the things I love to do.” The way Cass lights up just talking about her job is a thing of beauty. “I get that working in retail isn’t glamorous or demanding,” she goes on to add. “For most people, selling sporting goods is just a temporary pitstop to pay the bills on their way to getting the job of their dreams. But being able to share my enthusiasm for camping and hiking and biking and fishing… it makes my day.”

  “That!” I tell her. “That’s exactly what I want.”

  “Great, then what do you think you want to do?” she asks.

  “I have no fucking idea,” I admit. “I’m lost in the woods, Bambi. I don’t know how I got here and have no clue how I’m supposed to get back home.”

  “You need a compass,” she says.

  “And you know I could never read a trail map or use a damn compass. If not for you, I would have probably died out in the wilderness while wandering around in a constant circle.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you have me now,” she says, reaching over to give my knee a squeeze through my pants. “Close your eyes.”

  “What?” I ask having missed what she said because every cell in my body was screaming, “Higher! Move her hand higher!” because the only time I can get out of my own depressed head for a few minutes is when I’m inside a woman. After Camilla and I split, I started going out and screwing every beautiful woman who looked my way. My ego needed to hear their moans when they came, proving that I’m not just generous in the sack but I’m a fucking amazing lover! Just not amazing enough to keep the woman I married…

  As if I wasn’t already depressed going to my boring job I dreaded each day, Camilla had to pile on a heap of insecurities.

  The reminder of her is thankfully enough to make my cock behave, which is the only time it’s come in handy. Cassidy has been my friend for twenty years. I can’t use her just to stop all the self-doubts constantly swirling around in my head when she’s the one person who I’ve always been able to count on to be there for me. She’s the keeper of my secrets and partner in crime. My no questions asked ride or die.

  “Just relax and close your eyes,” Cass repeats when she removes her hand from my knee.

  “Okay,” I agree with a sigh, giving in and shutting my eyes tight.

  “Now,” she starts. “Imagine you only have one month to live.” When I crack one eye open at her in question, she slaps her palm over my eyes and says, “You only have one month to live, Xavier Malone. You have a terminal case of chronic arrogantitis –”

  “Chronic arrogantitis?” I repeat with a chuckle.

  “Yes. It’s going to kill you very, very soon, so you have to spend your last days wisely because they’re all you’re going to get in this lifetime.”

  “That sucks,” I mutter.

  “It does,” Cass agrees. “This is the chance for you to make amends, to try and change any regrets, to do whatever the hell you want, when you want it.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I agree.

  “Damn right. You have an endless amount of money from the arrogantitis make a wish fund, so the sky is the limit.”

  “Kind of fucked up to give me an endless amount of money when there are sick kids in the world,” I point out.

  “Fine,” Cass says with a huff. “You have a Benjamin Button form of arrogantitis that makes you eighteen again! Jesus. This disease makes you very difficult, more so than usual.”

  “Sorry,” I tell her with a grin.

  “So, you’re eighteen with a month to live, what are you going to do? How do you see yourself spending your final days on earth so that you leave it with no regrets?”

  Instantly, I see my younger self with nothing to lose standing in the middle of a six-foot high circular fence cage. My gloved fists are raised in the air as a sold-out crowd cheers and shouts my name after I knocked a man even bigger than me out with a single hit. Lights from cameras flash as my family comes into the cage to congratulate me, along with Cass, who I pick up and swing around in celebration before covering her lips for a kiss that’s so hot the television cameras have to go to a commercial break.

  “Well, what do you see?” the imaginary Cass in my arms asks.

  “You.”

  “Me?” she exclaims and pulls away from my grip. That’s when the real Cass removes her hand from my eyes, and I open them to find her blinking at me in confusion from just inches away.

  “You…you
don’t want to know the crazy shit that goes on in my head,” I assure her and cover up my slip at the same time. “It’s all pretty ridiculous.”

  “Oh, come on, you can tell me!” she says when she flops back to her side of the sofa and slaps me with the throw pillow again. “It doesn’t matter if it’s ridiculous. You’re running out of time, remember? Death is on your doorstep.”

  “Right,” I say and finally admit the truth. “I won a fight.”

  “A fight?” she asks with her brow furrowing in confusion. “Who were you fighting and why?”

  “I don’t know who he was, but I beat him in front of a huge crowd.”

  “Oh,” Cass says, her green eyes brightening in understanding. “You mean like a cage fight?”

  “Yeah, like that,” I reply. “Stupid, right?”

  Her face immediately falls like I just ran over her puppy. “You regret not taking the same path as your father and uncle.”

  “What? No, I don’t regret it. My dad and Uncle Jude are fucking IFC legends. There would’ve been all these high expectations put on me, and I would’ve just embarrassed myself and my family when I sucked and lost every fight.”

  “You won every fight in college.”

  “Those were just for amateurs,” I point out.

  “What was your record?” Cass asks.

  “Seven and oh,” I answer.

  “You never lost a fight? That’s pretty incredible, Xavier.”

  “I was just screwing around with some other college kids. Most were wrestlers who wanted to make some quick cash by throwing punches too.”

  “If you could go back in time, would you train to fight instead of going to college?” she asks.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I tell her. “Probably not. Too much pressure and hype. I don’t know how Macy handles it.”

  “She’s a woman, Jackson Malone’s daughter, so there’s not as much attention on her as there would be on his only son.”

  “Macy is a badass,” I reply.

  “Yeah, she is,” Cass agrees because her and my sister have always been tight. “And so are you, Xavier! If fighting is what you want to do, it’s not too late…”