by M. S. Parker
Women I took out never dressed like that, first date or not, and we always went somewhere expensive. Because of who I was, they expected it, but I never minded paying because they always knew upfront that they wouldn’t be around for long. I wanted sex without strings and they wanted to be seen with me. We both won.
When the waiter returned with my food, I was pleasantly surprised to find it delicious. Having been raised in a family who came from old money, I'd been taught that paying more for something made it innately better. While I'd never said out loud that I felt this way, I realized now that I'd been following that school of thought all along.
I frowned as I ate my pizza. I didn't like how that made me feel. I enjoyed having money, but I'd never considered myself a snob. Now, however, I was starting to think that I'd been mistaken all along.
Someone stepped into my line of sight. “Excuse me, aren't you Dorian Forbes?” A pretty redhead gave me a sweet, charming smile.
“I am.” I leaned back slightly in my seat.
“I saw your last fight,” she said. “You were so good. My brothers were all mad when you decided to retire.”
“It's always nice to meet a fan.” My smile was genuine, and I meant what I said, but hoped she'd move along so I could get back to...observing.
“My friend and I were wondering if we could buy you a drink.” She motioned to her left and I looked over to see a petite brunette waving at us.
Last week, I would've had both girls naked in a hotel room within the hour. I wasn't the kind of man who was accustomed to threesomes, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't had one before either. At the moment, however, the thought of these two women in my bed at the same time wasn't as appealing as it should have been.
“Thank you,” I said. “But I'll be leaving shortly.”
She looked disappointed as she left, but didn't press the subject, which I was grateful for. Tonight had ended up making me much more introspective than usual, and I tried to avoid that sort of thing at all cost. I didn't want to be thoughtful and kind. I enjoyed being shallow, enjoyed making the most of the pleasures in life and not giving a damn about anyone else. I wasn't cruel, but I always put myself first. I didn't know any other way to be.
I glanced at Sara and found her laughing. Even from a distance, I could tell there was no pretense in her. While she wasn't naive, she also wasn't fake. She made no apologies for who she was, and she behaved how she wanted, regardless of how it looked to those around her.
For me, there'd always been two types of women. The classy ones who occasionally slept with me after whatever function I escorted them to, and the ones like Jelani, who would never fit into my world. They were fun, great in bed, but that was all.
The women who moved in my social circles – the ones I took to events rather than just to bed – they knew exactly how they were supposed to behave, what they should say and what they should avoid.
Sara didn't fit either of those molds, and that confused the hell out of me. I liked things simple, but she complicated everything. I knew the smartest thing to do would be to walk out and never look back. Treat her as an employee only. Insist on training in ways that minimized the physical contact between us.
Forget about her and find someone for hot, sweaty sex.
That would be the smart thing to do.
Instead, I paid my bill and went straight home, unable to get the image of her out of my mind.
Chapter Seven
Sara
The restaurant was amazing, the perfect combination of good food and a great atmosphere. It wasn't so fancy that I felt out of place, but it also wasn't the sort of cheap dive some guys would take a girl on a first date. Or, at least, my ex-fiancé wouldn't have gone for somewhere like this. Not that I was all about what a guy spent on me. In my opinion, it was the thought behind it that was important, and Gordon wasn’t exactly the most thoughtful of men.
Tyrell, however, was a great guy. He'd opened the cab door for me, pulled out my chair, and hadn't once tried for any more physical contact than occasionally touching my hand. He was funny, sweet, and considerate.
I just couldn't figure out how in the world he was still single.
When the waiter put the pizza between us, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, my stomach growling at the smell. When I opened my eyes, Tyrell was watching me. I shrugged. “I've been living off noodles and tap water the past couple days.”
To my surprise, he laughed. Not a mean one, but the sort of sympathetic sound that said he completely got it.
“The year after I graduated college, I used to get down to ketchup sandwiches and lemon water.”
I made a face and reached for a slice of pizza. “You went to college?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted saying them. Heat suffused my face. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”
He waved a hand and swallowed the bite he'd already taken. “Don't worry about it. I got what you meant. Most athletes in non-traditional sports don't go to college so they can participate in their sport as long as possible while they're still in their prime.”
I gave a sigh of relief. That was exactly what I'd meant. “What'd you go for?”
He grinned at me. “Childhood education.”
My eyebrows went up. “You want to be an elementary school teacher?”
Now there was a mental image. Tyrell towering over a bunch of little kids while he taught them their ABC's. Despite how ruthless I'd seen him be in the ring, I could picture him with children, helping them with math problems, making sure they all got their coats and boots on before recess. Somehow, it fit.
“I'm taking online Master's classes so when I'm done fighting, I'll just have to take the licensing tests.”
My next bite of pizza halted mid-bite. “So you're already thinking toward retirement?”
I had to admit, it surprised me. Even I knew that Tyrell was something special in the ring. Pretty much everything I'd read in the past week said that he was on track to be even better than Dorian, and that was saying something. Barring serious injury, Tyrell had the opportunity to hold onto a championship title for at least half a dozen years. Even if he decided he wanted to go out on top, he could still be at it for a while.
Tyrell shrugged. “I enjoy fighting, and I'm good at it, but I don't live and breathe it, not like some other guys do. I want the title, but I'm not going to decide whether or not I want to keep it until I have it. I want more from life than that.”
“Like teaching?”
“Teaching,” he agreed. “And a family. Wife. Kids.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Asking a bit much for a first date, don't you think?”
He grinned that wide, easy smile of his, the one that I knew melted the hearts of women everywhere. “Just laying my cards on the table.”
There'd been a spark between us from the moment we met, and I was definitely attracted to him. I also wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of settling down, of marriage and a family. Having lost mine so young, I liked the idea of having a family of my own.
Hearing Tyrell say it like that didn't give me goosebumps, didn't make me want those things, but it didn't make me want to run away either. In fact, I didn't feel much of anything one way or the other. No jealousy at the thought of another woman having a family with Tyrell. No desire to have one myself.
I wasn't ready. No matter how much I liked Tyrell, no matter how attracted I was to him, I wasn't ready for a relationship.
He leaned forward and put his hand on mine. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, my smile feeling tight on my face. “I'm okay.”
“But...?” He removed his hand and gave me a searching look. “Something changed, and I don't know what I did.”
“You didn't do anything,” I said, shaking my head. “I really like being here with you. You're a great guy.”
“I'm hearing a 'but' in there somewhere.”
Deep breath in. “Two weeks ago, I was engaged.”
Tyrell's eyes dart
ed toward my left hand, then back up to my face.
“Through a set of bizarre circumstances, I ended up getting home early and finding my fiancé involved in a threesome with a pair of swingers.” There, I’d damned said it.
“Shit,” he breathed, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction,” I said dryly. “I knew things hadn't been going well lately, but I'd thought we'd just hit a rough patch.” I stabbed an ice cube with my straw.
“I'm sorry,” Tyrell said.
“I'm not.” I lifted a shoulder and stabbed at the ice cube again. “I'm just glad I found out now instead of after I married the bastard.” I looked up. “I'm not still in love with Gordon, but I don't think I'm ready for anything even close to serious.”
“I understand,” he said, his tone sincere.
I nodded, feeling more relief than anything else. I liked Tyrell. Liked flirting with him, talking to him. Hell, I even thought I might like sleeping with him. But I didn't want anything more than that. Not now, anyway.
* * *
I couldn't help but feel guilty as I opened my front door. Tyrell had been so sweet and understanding. He'd accepted what I said, then continued on with our meal. We'd kept talking and joking, sharing stories about our past, our families. A part of me almost wished I was ready to date again. I had a feeling that a relationship with Tyrell would be easy, simple.
Completely unlike what I was feeling now.
All night, I’d been telling myself that the only reason I felt mild attraction toward Tyrell was because I wasn't ready to date so soon after my break up with Gordon. Except a part of me knew that wasn't entirely the case.
There was someone I was really attracted to, a man whose touch made my skin hum. Someone who I had a hard time not staring at whenever he was around. The man who'd been starring in my dreams almost every night.
If he asked me out, I wasn't sure I would give the same excuse to him that I had to Tyrell. In fact, I was almost certain that I'd have been looking forward to a second date – or maybe morning-after breakfast.
Just the thought of waking up next to him was enough to give me butterflies in my stomach, confirming my suspicions. I hadn't wanted to admit it, but while I'd enjoyed flirting with Tyrell, I hadn't gotten any of that same gut-clenching desire. Now that I thought about it, it'd been a while since I'd had that feeling at all. I could barely remember that fluttery feeling with Gordon. And I didn't even know if that was my imagination rather than memory.
I sighed and headed for the bathroom, shedding my clothes on the way. The food and company had been excellent. I just wished there could've been more. Tyrell was a great guy, and he deserved someone great too.
My thoughts didn't let up as I showered, or even after I climbed in bed. I attempted to read for a bit, but soon gave it up when I couldn't seem to make it past the same paragraph. I turned off the light and tried to sleep, but it was hours before I finally managed it.
My phone woke me up sometime before noon, but I just stared at it until it went to voicemail, watching Dorian’s number fade to black. I didn't feel like talking to him on my day off, especially not after the thoughts I'd had last night. Just thinking about his voice made my entire body flush. I didn't know him very well, but I knew enough to know he wasn't the sort of man I wanted to get involved with, no matter how strong the attraction. Casual sex had never been my thing, and from what I'd heard around the gym, that was all Dorian did.
Not that he was even interested in me like that. We sparred well together, but that didn't mean anything.
Or maybe it did. I heard a couple of the guys talking just the other day, saying that Dorian had slept with his previous trainer. I'd gotten the impression that some of the men were wondering how long it'd be until he did the same with me.
I sighed as I flopped over on my back and stared up at the ceiling. I knew I needed to check my voicemail and find out what Dorian wanted. We'd agreed to train five days a week, but also agreed that if we needed to change days around, we could do so. That was most likely why he'd called, and if he wanted to meet tomorrow, I needed to know it today.
I reached over and grabbed my phone, hitting the voicemail icon. My eyes widened as I listened.
He didn't want to change our schedule.
He wanted me to come to lunch tomorrow with his father.
Chapter Eight
Dorian
I was starting to think this was a giant mistake.
Friday night, when I'd seen Sara out with Tyrell, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. I was usually pretty good at figuring people out, what they wanted, but I didn't get her. She wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted to know about her, know her.
And that's what I decided to do.
I needed to get her out of my head, which meant I needed to discover all I could about her so that I didn't find her so intriguing. Once she lost her mystery, I was sure I'd find her less attractive. Not that she wasn't pretty, but she wasn't really my type. Mystery was the only logical explanation for why she was constantly in my thoughts.
So if I solved the mystery, then my life could go back to normal. I'd be able to focus better at work, go out and find someone to hook up with. I'd keep her around for training since I hadn't felt so on-point since I'd quit fighting. I wasn't about to lose that.
“Will you quit pacing? You're driving me nuts.”
I looked over to where my father was sitting in his favorite armchair. He'd come home from the hospital just a few days after his heart-attack, and the doctors said he was doing well. For me, that meant he should be resting and regaining his strength. To him, however, it meant sitting around in his living room bossing me and his housekeeper around.
This was my childhood home, and like a lot of adults, coming back made me feel like time had rewound. I'd temporarily moved back in so Dad wouldn't be here alone, and while I loved my father, I was looking forward to getting back to my own place. To being an adult again. Aside from not having the privacy necessary to hook up with anyone here, having to listen to my dad talk about how much he wanted to meet the exotic young woman who saved his life didn't make it any easier to not think about her.
I told myself that I'd given in and invited Sara over because I was tired of listening to Dad complain, and it would keep him occupied for a while. The fact that it'd give me a chance to get to know Sara outside the gym was just a pleasant side-benefit. I wasn't trying to find ways for us to spend more time together. Just a part of unraveling the mystery.
“She said she was coming, right?” Dad asked.
I nodded as I crossed to the front window to check the driveway again. Our house was outside the city limits so I'd sent a car for Sara. It also made it easier to get to the house since our driver had the entry code. A part of me wished now that I'd driven into the city to get her. We would've had the whole drive to talk without interruption.
“This girl's got you in knots.”
I didn't bother responding to his comment. I really hated how observant Dad was sometimes.
“They're here,” I said as I saw the car round the bend. “Do you need any help to get to the dining room?” When he glared at me, I grinned. “Guess that's a no.”
“That's a hell no.” He pushed himself to his feet. “And we're not eating in the dining room. It's too damn formal. I had Martha set things up on the back porch. Bring the girl out there.”
His tone was brusque, but I knew my father well enough to know that he didn't mean anything by it. That's just how he was. He liked to sound gruff, but he was the kind of man who'd give the shirt off his back to someone in need.
I headed for the front door, opening it just as Sara was coming up the steps. I let myself have a moment to appreciate how good she looked. Dress slacks that showed off how long her legs really were, and a nice shirt that managed to be modest and flattering at once. A part of me was a little disappointed that she hadn't worn something flirtier, some
thing more like what she'd worn on her date.
But this wasn't a date, I reminded myself. My dad had asked for it.
“Sara, thank you for coming.” I kept my voice even, professional.
“Thank you for having me.” She stepped past me and I caught a whiff of some sort of floral scent. She didn't wear it when we trained.
“My father's been quite eager to meet you,” I said and gestured for her to follow. “It's all he's talked about since he came home, getting to meet the person who saved his life.”
I was surprised to see a bit of a flush staining her cheeks.
“That embarrasses you?” I asked. “It's not like it's false praise. The doctors all said that if you hadn't done what you did, he wouldn't have made it.”
I paused at the French doors that led outside. While I'd first met her with the intention of thanking her for what she'd done, I just now realized that I hadn't thanked her at all. Not really.
“It's been just my dad and me since I was five,” I said, surprising myself with the admission. Surprised again as her dark brown eyes grew soft. “And I'm not an emotional person, but I can't deny that when I heard he was in the hospital, it scared me. So, thank you, for doing what you did.”
Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. A few strands of hair had escaped the twist that captured the rest of it, and I had the sudden impulse to pull the ebony lengths from its confines, let it spill down over her shoulders. I wondered what it would look like spread out on my pillow.
I asked the question that had been on my mind all weekend. “Did you have a good time with Tyrell on Friday?”
Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. “How did you know I was out with Tyrell?”
Shit. “I overheard some people talking about it at the gym.” It was only a partial lie. I'd been trying to justify my interest to myself, but I doubted any of my arguments would hold water with Sara.