UnExpected (The Fighter Series Book 2) Page 12

  “If he did, he didn’t say anything to me about it. I like Matt. He and Holly make a good couple. I just hate he’s friends with the enemy.”

  “Speaking of, have you seen Ryker lately?”

  “No. He came into the restaurant the other day but kept it cordial and short. I didn’t tell Levi about it. I was scared the whole thing would piss him off.”

  Blain grunts. “Keeping secrets from him already?”

  “No. If something were to happen, Levi would know. But Ryker didn’t say anything out of the way. He and Matt sat in Holly’s section. Why would I get Levi all riled up for no reason?”

  “What if Levi found out about it?”

  “I wouldn’t lie about it. I’d tell him. You’re making it sound like I did something wrong. I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t say you did, Paigey. I’m just telling you from a man’s point of view, I’d be pissed.”

  I ponder his statement before opening my mouth. “So, let’s say you walked past Wesley. Said hello and kept walking. You would come tell me?”

  “Wesley didn’t stay in town. Therefore, I wouldn’t walk past him.”

  Smartass.

  “Hypothetically, Blain.” I roll my eyes.

  His jaw ticks. “First, if I walked past him, I wouldn’t say hello. Secondly—”

  “What if he had a friend of yours beside him? Like an acquaintance. Wouldn’t you say hello to that person and be polite and nod, smile, say hello to him?”

  “I’d speak to the person I know and that’s it.”

  “So would you tell me about it?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “That’s what I did and when Ryker said hello, I said hello. That’s it.”

  I smile victoriously at him and he hates it. His eyes linger for a moment, throwing a playful hatred at me, then they switch to the TV.

  Aaannnd the victory is all mine. But I celebrate in silence. I hear my phone begin ringing in my room and I leap from the loveseat and take off down the hall. I know it’s Levi because of the video chat ringtone. I slide my finger across the accept button, giddy and out of breath.

  Levi’s brows jump high as curiosity flurries his expression. “And what the hell were you doing?”

  “I was in the living room. Phone was in my room,” I say still huffing air.

  He laughs shaking the camera. “You’re that out of breath from a short sprint?”

  “Nooo…I was exercising too,” I play innocent.

  “You’re horrible at lying,” he says, emphasizing the word horrible.

  I roll my eyes hiding my laughter. “How was your flight?”

  “In the air,” he deadpans running his hand over his face. “It was short. The drive to the hotel was the worst. Adam wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He’s apparently crazy about this chick Carli we met at the club a few weeks back. He’s been spending a lot of time with her.”

  They met her at the club. “Wait, what?”

  “That’s what I said too. Adam settling down? Hell has pigs flying in the snow right now. It’s been longer than two days so she must have something that catches his attention.”

  “Y’all went to the club? When were you going to tell me that?” I snip.

  His expression turns cold. “It was nothing. Didn’t think I needed to.”

  I fall silent.

  “You gonna call me when you get off work?” he asks.

  “If you think you’ll be up, I will.”

  “I always have time for you.”

  “Well, then I’ll call when I get off work. I’m gonna hop off here and start getting ready. Love you.”

  What the heck has gotten into him? He leaves a loving boyfriend and lands with an attitude. And after all the conversations we’ve shared over the week, I’m just finding out that he went to a club. Not that I’m mad, I don’t expect him to just sit around, but I feel completely left in the dark.

  Chapter 20

  Reality. Went to bed and it was empty. Woke up to the same resemblance. Now, I’m back at this fucking gym waiting on Katie to arrive. We haven’t spoken to each other since the morning after she pulled that ridiculous stunt.

  I’m jamming my knuckles against the leather heavy bag, trying to relieve some of the frustrations I have. What am I frustrated about, you ask? Well, it’s simple. It’s Paige. The last several days were great. We fucked like rabbits and laughed like kids. Now, I’m back to this shit. Miles away without being able to touch her. I’m without her scent and her smiles. Shit pisses me the fuck off.

  It’s your dream. I know this. You shouldn’t be aggravated at the situation. Well, I am. I can’t talk my girl into traveling with me. Stubborn and worried about her self-respect. It’s the very thing I love about her, yet it drives me insane. I can’t break her walls down and get her to come with me.

  I’m unloading on the bag, sweat rolling off my forehead, when I hear the squeak of the door. I finish my run and then turn toward Katie.

  “You’re late,” I bark.

  “Sorry,” she says weakly. “I overslept.”

  I stalk over to her. “How’s the eyebrow?”

  She rubs the place where the stitches were. “Good. Healing quickly.”

  I smile. “Good.”

  “How was your week?” she asks.

  “Great. Now, warm up. It’s your first training session after a fight and you’re going to learn really quickly that this will kick your ass worse than the actual fight.”

  She’s already out of breath when she finishes her six-minute jump rope warm up. I don’t miss those days. When I started all this, I remember thinking I was dying during my training session after my fights. It didn’t take long for my body to condition itself. Harvey had a very large hand in that. He was relentless.

  “Come on, let’s spar,” I tell her nodding toward the ring.

  Her eyes widen as her cheeks brighten. “I don’t have a partner today?”

  “Yes. Me.”

  “Oh…okay,” she stutters.

  The first day I ever trained her, we stepped into the ring and I was instantly flooded with doubt. She was immersed in fear, intimidated by me, and really shy. I remember she had her hair tightly braided and I gave her shit about wearing makeup to training. Her stance showed weakness. Her shoulders were slumped. She was a mess.

  Today resembles that very day. She’s nervous and quiet. No confidence shows in her steps. Her moves are empty threats. She’s not ready and I don’t care. I step in and throw a left hook. Chill out. It’s not hard. We’re sparring, not fighting.

  She throws her hands up wildly and very inexperienced-like scrambling backward.

  “Did Tabitha reset you?” I tease.

  “No. I wasn’t ready,” she huffs.

  I strike again and she flails her hands again. “What did I tell you about being ready?”

  Aggravation comes over her and she punches with a left then right. She looks more like a fighter now. She’s guarded, in proper stance, and zeroed in on her kill. We trade punches and kicks, ducking and weaving, sliding and maneuvering. She’s worked up a good sweat.

  Now, I’m ready to get her right on her ground play. I rush her, putting my shoulder into her stomach, wrapping my arms around her waist, and dropping her square on her ass. Straddled and mounted, she looks lost.

  I pop her openhanded across the top of her head. “Quit with the unsure bullshit and fucking get it together. I’m not dancing by myself.”

  Anger flares from her amber brown eyes and she pushes my chest.

  “What the fuck is that?” I growl. “Are we in elementary again?”

  Hurt dons over the pissed expression and she bucks wildly under me. I’m not in a position you’d want to be in during a fight. Normally, you want the body close to yours leaving no room for the bottom man to finish the game. And when I drop to wrap her up to keep her close, she punches me in the nose.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she wails.

  I drop to my elbows above her face. “Is that what you�
��ll do in your next fight? Apologize?”

  “But you’re not my opponent. You’re my trainer.”

  I smile. “You clocked your trainer. I’m proud of you.”

  She swallows then looks away.

  “What’s with you?” I ask.

  She clears her throat. “I’m sorry. For…you know. I was in the wrong and I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Yes you did,” I inform her. “With alcohol in your system, you were unrestrained. It’s why I don’t drink.”

  Her eyes bulge. I’m sure she thought her little crush was well hidden, but it’s the little things I pick up on.

  “Remember, I’m a fighter. I’m trained to notice everything. It becomes second nature. You’ll learn it as you go.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I nod.

  “Do you mean to send mixed signals?”

  “I don’t.”

  She looks down the length of her body. “You’re practically lying on top of me. Our chests are touching. Your eyes keep dropping to my lips. Levi, I may not know a fighter’s body like yours, but I know body language from a man.”

  I don’t flinch at her words. But I do offer a shit-eating grin. “Are there rules about how much distance you’re supposed to give your opponent? I might have missed that one.”

  “You always resort to humor when—”

  “Correction…I’m a smartass to anyone. Don’t try to act like a psychiatrist. You’re not one.”

  “You flirt with me all the time. The way you look at me…Levi, I truly thought…” She shakes her head. “I acted foolish because I thought you felt the same way.”

  “Your mind took you to a place you dream of. You know exactly where my heart lies. Now, enough of this sentimental bullshit and get me the fuck off you.”

  Her stare lingers and then she begins to push and buck, but I don’t move. “Gotta work harder than that, sweetheart.” I say laughing at her weak attempt.

  She’s stuck and if we were in a true fight, I would’ve elbowed her face until it split open. I lean up, grab her wrist and am just about to drop to the mat with an armbar when a flash catches my attention.

  I glance over to a man with a camera. Katie must have not seen him and pushes out from under me. Now, I’m straddled.

  “Ah!” she screams in triumph, but it’s short-lived.

  I pick her up by her ribs and place her beside me, scrambling to get to my feet to find out who the man is.

  “Hey!” she yells as I stand.

  “You.” I point to the man as I drop out of the ring. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  He’s a slender man with short brown hair. He looks young. He smiles widely and sticks his hand out for me to shake. “Hey. I’m Leon, Leon Brooks. Oh wow. I can’t believe I’m finally getting to meet you.”

  I take his hand. “Leon.”

  “I’m from Breakaway Sports Magazine. Cory said it would be okay for me to come down here and snap some pics of you training. Although, this looks more fun. Right?” He slaps my arm and winks nodding behind me. I’m sure it was toward Katie.

  He’s too high energy for me. Hyper and speaks too fast. I don’t like him.

  I narrow my eyes. “Training isn’t fun,” I say flatly.

  “Yeah, that…if that’s training, I definitely need her to train me.”

  “What you saw was a conversation. I’d gladly have the same talk with you.”

  He pulls on the collar of his yellow shirt. “No thanks.” He claps his hands. “Well, don’t let me bother you two. Act like I’m not here. Continue on. I’ll snap a few more pictures and head off. I will be needing to set up an appointment to interview you both.”

  “I am going to act like you’re not here because you will be leaving now. I wasn’t informed about this. I don’t do interviews and I don’t do your pictures.”

  He laughs. “This is where you have it wrong, Mr. Stiles. I don’t need your permission. I have your manager’s and the gym owner’s permission to be here. I know that sounds really bad, but in my profession as long as I have the manager’s permission, I’m good. Unless you’re modeling for me, whether it’s a cover deal, open spread, or whatever, you’re an open licensed guy. Mr. Arnett holds your ownership. Most likely, you signed a dotted line that states the same.”

  The way his face scrunches as he talks makes me wanna knock his fucking teeth out. Unfortunately, he’s fucking right. Cory has a ridiculous contract and that was one of those clauses I hated to agree to. I feel like it should be up to me, but it’s not. But Katie…

  I swing around to Katie. “Does Cory have you in contract yet?” I bark.

  “I signed something when I agreed to be trained by you.”

  “You signed something? Do you not know what the fuck you signed?”

  She drops her arms to her side and tilts her head slightly.

  “Are you that fucking naive? You read everything before you sign! You could’ve signed something stating he’s your damn pimp!” I yell. I grit my teeth and turn back to Mr. Dickwad. “Sorry to foil your plans for the day, but it looks like you have a vacation. I’m not training today or possibly tomorrow. Since you deal with my manager, make sure you get my phone number from him and we’ll set something up. We’ll be better prepared and will be able to give you a better sense of just how training is.”

  I look to Katie over my shoulder but I have nothing to say to her. I end up grabbing my bag and pausing beside Leon. “Call me to set it up.” And I’m out the door.

  Fuming. I’m fucking furious. If it was possible, steam would roll off me. I wasn’t notified of this Leon Brooks photographer and I sure as hell hate the fact that Cory didn’t give a damn to inform me about the magazine. On top of that, I thought Katie was smarter than that shit.

  Chapter 21

  I’m still angry as hell when I step out of the shower. I was hoping to wash off some of the anger, but it did nothing to relieve the pissed-offness I have for the whole situation. I read over my contract so many times. I knew when I signed it, one of the clauses stated I gave Cory permission to override pictures containing work. Therefore, training, fighting, and press events, photographers are allowed to snap what they want and make their pennies. Modeling is a different case. Cory doesn’t have those rights. Those rights are up to me.

  Just as I’m putting on my shorts there’s a knock at the door. I have a suspicion of who it might be as I storm to it.

  Katie is still in her gym clothes when she comes charging in. She drops her bag, whirls around and shoves me in the chest.

  “Don’t you ever embarrass me like that,” she yells.

  I clench my jaw, begging my temper to keep in check. “If you ever lay your hands—”

  Before I can finish, she shoves me again. I grab her by the wrists. “Katie, keep your fucking hands to yourself.”

  “Or what?” She dips her toes in the bitch waters.

  “You’re ballsy when you know someone won’t do anything.”

  “You’re such an asshole! A fucking fake one at that,” she bites.

  “I’m a whole lot of things, but fake is not one of them,” I inform her.

  I know this routine. Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned. She’ll lash out. Say things she doesn’t mean and become ferocious. Some women can contain the escalation of fury, but others…they are out to get even. Revenge—it tastes better than the actions done. Nothing good ever comes out of it.

  “Funny how I’m the one pissed that there’s a chance you could have been taken advantage of. I’m the one that is giving a damn. Why the hell did you not read the contract?” I growl.

  “What’s it matter to you?” she squeaks.

  “You don’t get it. That piece of paper you scribbled your name on held a lot of information. It could have bound you to Cory for your whole career. You may not ever be able to change managers without a major lawsuit. You could be getting paid ten percent and him ninety.”

  “Cory wouldn’t do that to me.�
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  I finally let go of her wrists and shake my head. “How much do you know about Cory? Did you know him prior to fighting? Oh, let me guess, he sweet talked you and promised you the world?”

  “No, I didn’t know him prior to fighting, but he did find me. He saw something in me—”

  “That could promise you a guaranteed future and allow you to retire early,” I finish her sentence. Why? Because I’ve heard that ridiculous statement for years.

  Her eyes bulge for a second before she pulls her shoulders back.

  “I’m not saying his intent is to fuck you over. I’m just saying you have no clue about the animals in this game,” I tell her. “You better hope he didn’t take you for everything you’re worth.”

  “Okay, so you’re mad that I didn’t read the contract. It doesn’t mean you had the right to humiliate me in front of the photographer.”

  I throw my hand up. “Quit grasping at straws, Katie. Either you’re pissed at me or you’re not. Quit trying to find a reason to be because I have one reply to it all.”

  “And what’s that?” she asks as I sit down in the recliner.

  I smile at her. “Get the fuck over it.”

  She stands there like I just slapped the shit out of her. If I didn’t have any self-control earlier, I would have, but I’m not down with laying my hands on a woman.

  “You’re such a jerk.” And then she slams the door behind her.

  In the weeks I’ve trained her, I’ve learned she dwells on having the last word. She always has to have it.

  I’m watching TV when my phone rings. I know it’s too early for Paige and as I reach for it, Adam’s name lights up my display.

  “Dude, what in the hell did you do to Katie?” He laughs in the phone.

  “Called her an idiot. Why? She come running to you?”

  “Holy fuck. I just spent the last thirty minutes trying to figure it all out.”

  “What did she tell you?” I ask.

  “You got pissed at a photographer, pissed at her for signing the contract with Cory without reading it, pissed she wasn’t ready to spar, and pissed she overslept. Are you ragging?”