by Lane Hart
“What else are you thinking about other than the hard ground?” Cass asks.
Since I can’t tell her the truth, I say, “I think I’m going to go see Coach Briggs tomorrow, tell him to set up the fight. If I go ahead and sign shit, then I can’t back out.”
“That’s really exciting, Xavier,” she says. Removing her hand from underneath mine, she covers it with hers and gives it a supportive squeeze. “I don’t think you’ll regret this decision.”
“I hope not, but it’s a big gamble.”
“It’s a gamble, sure, but I think it’s going to pay off,” she replies. “I bet Macy’s really excited for you.”
“I haven’t told her yet either,” I admit. “You’re the only person other than Coach that I’ve mentioned it to.”
“You’re going to wait until you sign the contract?” Cass asks. “That way you won’t have to worry about anyone trying to talk you out of it?”
“Exactly,” I say as I scoot closer to her because she gets me and always has. While it’s too dark in our tent to see her, I can feel her warm breath and know she’s just inches away. I want her to kiss me again or give me some sign that sober Cass wants the same thing as drunk Cass – me.
I could make the first move tonight, I know, but I…can’t. If I’m wrong, everything could become awkward between us, right before I move back home. Right now, making a major career change, I need Cass in my corner, literally. She’s one of the few people I know I can count on to have my back.
“Now that you know what I was thinking, it’s your turn,” I tell Cass. Is it too much to hope that she’ll tell me she’s thinking that our friendship could survive anything, even her climbing into my sleeping bag with me and riding my cock? Probably so.
Cassidy
If I thought sleeping in the same house as Xavier was tough, it’s nowhere close to sleeping in the same tent with him in the woods, with no one else around. It’s like we’re in our own little dark bubble.
And he wants to know what I’m thinking? Hell no. Instead of taking the chance of spilling my guts, I turn the tables on him. Rubbing my thumb over the lump on his ring finger, I ask, “Why are you still wearing your wedding band if you’re divorced?”
I don’t imagine the sudden stillness beside me or pause in his breathing.
“It’s stuck,” he finally responds.
God, he’s a horrible liar.
And I can’t even call him on it, because I don’t want to hear him talk about his ex-wife or anything else from earlier like he’s considering giving her a second chance. No, she blew it.
“Have you tried putting some liquid soap on it?” I ask. “Or oil?”
“Yep.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire!
“I’m sure it’ll come off when it’s ready,” I tell him.
“Yeah,” he agrees, removing his hand from underneath mine. I instantly miss touching him. “It’s starting to wiggle a little more.”
“You should try to get it off soon,” I tell him. “It would be a shame if you had to have someone cut it off.”
“I should,” Xavier agrees. “It’ll definitely have to come off before I start training.”
“Right,” I reply. “You could, ah, hurt your finger if you ram it into someone’s face or the punching bag.”
“That’s right,” he say. “I’ll work on it when we get back to your place.”
“Let me know if I can help,” I tell him on a sigh, not just referring to the ring but with helping him forget about the woman he wasted years of his life with. She never deserved someone as good as Xavier.
Until the wedding band is gone, I won’t tell him how I feel about him. Even if by some small chance he felt the same way, he’s not ready to move on yet. Sleeping with a bunch of women doesn’t mean he’s over Camilla.
Which makes me hate her even more.
Chapter Twelve
Xavier
“Hey, Coach. You busy?” I stick my head in Coach Briggs office at Havoc to ask.
“Never too busy for a Malone,” he jokes with a chuckle. “Come in and sit down. Tell me you’re here to make it official.”
Leaving his door open, I take a seat in the chair across from him.
“Well? Don’t leave me hanging? Spit it out.”
“I think I’m ready to do this,” I tell him.
“Hot damn!” Coach exclaims, getting to his feet and slapping his hands together. “I’ll start making the calls and let you know when I have something in writing.”
“Sounds good,” I tell him. “Let’s just keep it quiet until then. I’m waiting to tell my family once I have the details.”
“They’re going to agree that this is a good thing,” he says, as if he understands my hesitancy. “Until then, hit the gym. I can get you some time with Coach Cruz to work on your ground game. And I’m available anytime to go through some boxing drills. First, I’ll want to video you on a few conditioning exercises, see how far we’ll need to go and to show to the other agents.”
“I’m ready,” I tell him. “I may not be in fighting shape, but I’ve kept to a pretty strict diet and workout regimen over the years.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Coach says. “Deep down I think you always knew this day was coming. It was just a matter of time.”
“Maybe so,” I agree even though I didn’t admit to myself I wanted to fight until Cass pulled it out of me the other night.
Now if I could only pull the memory of us kissing from her mind to remind her how good it was in the hopes of convincing her to try it again while sober.
Sex is a distraction; but with Cass, I’m starting to think we could have a helluva lot more than just sex.
Cassidy
“There’s my girl!” Eddie says when he spots me walking through the door of Frasier’s Sports Bar, the neighborhood watering hole where everyone goes to watch games on their enormous collection of flat screens. Tonight’s the first game of regular season football, so I had previously made plans to get together with some of the guys from our fantasy team to watch it together and eat hot wings. Eddie’s also a football fan, so he was added to the unofficial guest list the other day when the topic came up as we were getting dressed after a romp.
“Hey,” I say as I approach him. When he holds his meaty arms out for me, I step into them for a hug. If Mike is a smaller version of Xavier, then Eddie is the supersized model. Not that I agreed to go out with him because of the resemblance or anything. He’s a nice guy who I’ve been having some fun with, mostly in bed.
“I wasn’t sure if you were still coming or not. You didn’t return any of my messages,” Eddie tells me.
“Oh, ah, sorry. I had to get a new phone and it’s still in the box,” I explain. “It should be up and working again tonight.”
“Good, and I’m glad you made it,” he replies. “I’ve been waiting all week to give you a present.”
“You got me a present?” I ask in surprise since that seems a little out of the ordinary for fuck buddies. What are customary gifts from the guy you’re sleeping with? Condoms? Sex toys?
Reaching into his back pocket of his blue jeans that look painted on his thighs, not because he purchased them tight necessarily, but because it was probably the biggest size in stock, Eddie removes a plain white envelope.
“You…wrote me a letter?” I guess as I continue to stand in front of him.
“Nope. Open it,” he says when he hands it to me and then his palms both come down on either of my hips.
I carefully peel the sealed flap open and then take a peek inside.
“Is that…are these…” I stammer before I pull them out.
“Season tickets, baby!” Eddie says.
“Wow,” I gasp as I flip through the stack of tickets for every Ravens’ home game this season. “This is way too much, Eddie! You shouldn’t have,” I tell him.
“We’ll go together to all of them,” he tells me. “It’s going to be awesome.”
“That-that is aweso
me,” I agree, elated for the games while at the same time I feel extremely guilty.
Season tickets over seventeen weeks, more if, fingers crossed, the Ravens make the playoffs, that’s…months of dates with a man I don’t feel anything for unless he’s inside of me. I thought he felt the same.
Our relationship is apparently growing all lopsided. It was supposed to be fun and spontaneous, no strings attached. He didn’t just give me a string. This is a freaking rope that’s sturdy enough to climb if I accept.
And I can’t accept the season tickets if I know I can’t return his enthusiasm for us being together.
God, I’m a horrible person for not seeing this coming before now to put on the brakes. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks. How was I supposed to know that he wanted more?
I can’t give him more! Not when my heart belongs to someone else, even if Xavier will never reciprocate.
Poor Eddie. Am I his Xavier?
“Eddie…” I start, taking a step back so his hands fall from my hips but placing my hand on his arm to soften the blow as I try and figure out the words to turn him down gently. “Season tickets are a really sweet gift, but I don’t think we’re there yet or ever will be.”
“Where? At the stadium?” he asks with his forehead scrunched in confusion. Bless his heart.
“I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship,” I explain.
“It’s too much too soon,” he says on a sigh when he finally understands.
“A little bit,” I reply.
“I didn’t think about that,” he tells me with a frown. “I just knew we were both Raven fans and thought it would be fun to have someone go with me to all of the games, someone who is a bigger fan than I am.”
Well, shit. Now I feel horrible.
“How about this,” I suggest. “There are six home games. So, what if I agree to go with you, as friends, to maybe two or three of them, and then you can go to the other games with someone else. Will that work?”
“Will you still let me come over some nights?’ he asks.
“Let’s play things by ear,” I tell him, even though it’s doubtful. I don’t want to string him along if I don’t feel the same way he feels about me. It’s not fair to Eddie.
“Does that mean you’ll call me if you want Big Eddie?” he asks.
“Yes,” I agree while trying to bite back my laugh at the mention of the nickname he gave his member.
“Okay,” he replies. “Have a seat, and I’ll go get us both a beer.”
“Thanks, Eddie,” I tell him.
Once he’s gone, I glance over at the door to keep an eye out for Xavier. He’s supposed to come straight over after he talks to Coach Briggs. And even though it’s only been a few hours since I last saw him, I can’t wait for him to walk through the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Xavier
I’m feeling pretty damn good when I walk into Frasier’s. I had a great workout, and Coach was blown away by the results of my conditioning and fitness test. Now it’s only a matter of time before a manager hopefully gets back to him about scheduling a fight. I’m nervous but also excited to get in the cage. Once I get everything in writing, I’ll share the news with my parents and Macy and pray they don’t tell me I’ve lost my mind.
Still, the self-doubt won’t get me down tonight, not when I spot Cass sitting at a long table with a group of guys. I recognize most from her fantasy team and know she’s not sleeping with any of them.
Still, for some reason, I feel possessive of her and have a need to touch her and prove to these assholes that I mean more to her than all of them put together. Has she ever kissed any of them the way she kissed me? I highly doubt it.
When I walk up behind Cass, I wrap my hand around her ponytail and give it a tug backwards.
Cass gasps and then she sees me. “Hey, you made it!” she says with a smile. “How was training?”
“Good, really good,” I say when I kiss her cheek and then take the seat next to her.
“That’s…” she pauses.
“All we have to do now is wait for someone to bite and pick a date.” That’s right, it’s we, because I know Cass is behind me one-hundred percent on this.
“That’s great, Xavier,” Cass replies.
“I got our beers,” a deep voice says from behind me. When I glance over my shoulder, I see an enormous dude with veins bulging all over the place just from holding two glasses of beer, one of which he offers to Cass. I don’t remember seeing this giant at her house for the fantasy draft party. And it’s crazy, but with his dark eyes, black hair and tan complexion, he looks like he could be my brother…on a boatload of steroids.
“Um, Xavier, this is Eddie,” Cass informs me when she takes one of the glasses from his meaty hands. Eddie? Where have I heard that name before.
“Xavier, huh? Nice to meet you, even if you are in my seat,” the man says.
“Here, you can have mine,” Cass tells him before she stands up and steps aside. “I’ll just go find another chair,” she says while glancing around the packed bar.
“Here,” the big guy says. After he lowers his glass of beer to the table, he grabs Cass around the waist like he has some kind of right to touch her and then plops her down on his lap, causing her glass of beer to nearly slosh over the rim.
What the fuck?
“Plenty of room on me,” Eddie says.
Hold up. Didn’t Cass mention that one of her fuck buddies was named Eddie? Motherfucker. She’s screwing this big oaf. And my first thought is that, logistically, Cass must always have to be on top or he would crush her, and the second is she’s sleeping with him!
“Are you on her fantasy team too?” Eddie asks me around Cass, who he’s holding to his body with a tight grip around her waist. The difference in their sizes is immense. He looks like a ventriloquist and she’s his dummy. No, I’m pretty sure that I’m the dummy because I thought Cass was coming on to me the other night because she’s in love with me; and apparently, she’s just “playing the field” and sleeping with several guys. I really fucking hate that. And I’m pretty sure the hate is a visible emotion on my face right now.
“I’m not on Cass’s fantasy team. I’m her best friend,” I inform him.
“Huh,” he responds. “She’s never mentioned you before.”
“She didn’t?” I say while watching Cass’s face as she guzzles her beer and avoids my eyes. “Guess you two haven’t known each other long.”
“Several weeks,” the meathead says.
“Ah, okay. See, Cass and I have been friends for twenty years.”
“Wow, that’s a long time,” Eddie says.
“It is. You really get to know a person after two decades. Like, for instance, did you know that Cass is a lightweight?”
“No. We’ve only shared a few beers together at dinner,” he answers. “Most of the time we don’t even leave the bedroom.”
Son of a bitch. That was not the response I was expecting. Apparently neither was Cass since she starts to cough, choking on her last sip of beer.
“You okay?” I ask while Eddie beats on her back.
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” she says. “Eddie is, um, also a Ravens fan.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Oh yeah,” he replies. “I just surprised Cass with season tickets to all the home games.”
“All the home games?” I repeat. “That’s a lot of fucking games.”
“I told him it was a sweet gift, but I couldn’t possibly take all of them,” Cass announces.
Good. She’s a huge Ravens fan, so if she’s turning down a chance to go watch games in the stadium, then she’s trying to let the big guy down easy instead of causing an earthquake when she tells him she’s not interested in him as more than a fuck buddy.
I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Cass must feel equally conflicted based on the way she guzzles her beer.
“Slow down, Cass. You wouldn’t want to say or do a
nything you’ll be embarrassed about later,” I tell her. “Like the other night when I carried you to bed.”
“I-I don’t remember that,” Cass says.
“I do,” I tell her. “Since I was completely sober and all, I haven’t forgotten a single thing you said…or did.”
“What I did? What did I do?” she asks.
“Don’t worry, I don’t kiss and tell,” I say with a grin and a wink.
Her jaw drops in understanding, and then the empty glass slips from her hand. Thankfully, I have quick reflexes and catch it.
“Ah, thanks,” Cass says when I sit the glass down on the bar. “Ah, Xavier, could you and I step outside to talk for a second?”
“Absolutely,” I agree.
“Hurry back. Kickoff is only five minutes away,” Eddie helpfully says before he places a kiss on Cass’s cheek and eases his hold on her waist enough for her to climb down.
I lead the way to the exit and then turn around to face Cass when we clear the door in front of the building.
“You didn’t tell me your fuck buddy was coming tonight,” I tell her through gritted teeth.
“We made plans weeks ago for opening night well before you changed your mind about coming.”
“Yeah, well, a heads-up would’ve been nice,” I mutter.
“Why?” Cass asks. “Why do you care if a guy I’m seeing joins us and eleven other men?”
“Maybe I’m just confused after you kissed me like the world was ending the other night and then you’re climbing up on his lap and shit.”
“I-I kissed you?” she asks.
“Oh yeah,” I reply, glad to finally get it out in the open. “I was putting you in bed and then boom, you were attacking me!”
“Attacking?” she gasps. “No. I wouldn’t have! That’s crazy.”
“Believe me, you did!”
“I don’t remember,” Cass says. “But if I did, I’m sorry. I must have been confused and thought you were someone else.”