“Shut it, you!”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” I called over my shoulder as I headed into my bedroom.
I tossed my purse on the bed and made quick work of showering and brushing my teeth. Pulling on my comfiest PJs, I slipped beneath the sheets. Flopping back onto the pillows, I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. I knew I shouldn’t do it, but the pull was too strong.
I slid open my nightstand drawer and pulled out my iPad. Tapping on the YouTube icon, I typed in a handful of words. Austin’s face filled the screen in a post-fight interview. I studied the sharp angle of his jaw, the glint of his deep blue eyes. My heart contracted in a brutal squeeze. It always felt the same, a delicate balance of pleasure and pain, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I tappednextand watched Austin decimate his opponent in the fight that had netted him his first heavyweight UFL title. A tear slid down my cheek as his hand was raised in the air. It didn’t matter how many times I watched the same videos, their effect never weakened. I told myself that, eventually, they wouldn’t pack such a punch, but deep down, I knew I was lying.
22
Austin
The hallways and doorways of the T-Mobile arena on the Vegas strip did little to dull the roar of the crowd. I was glad. The cheers and boos did nothing but feed the beast inside. I had gotten really good at keeping that monster fat and happy over the past few months. If I didn’t, ugly things happened, and I didn’t want to go back there.
Swinging my arms back and forth to keep my muscles limber and warm, I paced up and down the hallway outside my locker room. When I reached a corner, I paused, hearing Liam’s voice. “He’s good. He’s in the other room warming up.” His voice held a softness and tenderness that it only had when he was talking to one person. “How’s that tool you’re dating?” A stone dropped in my gut. “Come on, you know you need to end it. There’s no need to keep leading the poor schmuck on.”
Carter was dating someone. I always knew it would happen, I was just surprised that it had taken this long. I was also annoyed that Liam hadn’t mentioned anything. “All right, all right, I’ll be nice. Promise. See you when I get back.”
Liam rounded the corner, almost barreling straight into me. “Whoa. Sorry, dude.” His eyes darted around the hallway, and he looked guilty as hell. This was the awkward place we had lived in since Carter and I had stopped talking. Liam had refused to pick sides, but he was damn protective of Carter.
Almost an entire year had passed, and I hadn’t heard one single peep. Not that I blamed Carter. The final words I had spoken to her had been cruel and untrue. I cringed at the memory. “Was that Carter?” I asked, voice rough.
“Um, yeah.”
“Who’s she dating?” It burned to say those words. The idea of anyone’s hands on her untouched skin made me want to kill someone. It was fucked, I knew it, but I couldn’t help it.
“Are you sure you want to talk about this right before your fight?”
A hand clamped on my shoulder. “He’s right, son. You need to be focused.”
Liam and my dad might be right, but I didn’t give a fuck. “Who. Is. She. Dating?”
Liam just shook his head. “Some teacher at her school.”
I jerked my head in a nod, spun on my heel, and stalked back to the locker room. My pre-fight preparations were a blur, the deafening cheers of the crowd muted to a dull roar, the fight intros might as well have been in another language. The only thing that penetrated my brain was the sound of the bell.
I unleashed the rage I held in check every day, the fury that could only be quenched on fight nights. I let it go, unchecked and unrestrained. Fourteen seconds later, my opponent lay semi-conscious on the ground. I was almost disappointed; I wanted to feel that pain.
Minutes later, my hand was raised in the air, and I was named UFL Heavyweight Champion for the second time in a row. Liam and Ford were hooting and hollering. Mel gave me a fatherly slap on the back. My own dad squeezed my neck, bringing his forehead to mine. “Proud of you, son.”
It should have felt like I was on the top of the world. It didn’t. It just felt empty.
Strobe lights pulsedin rhythm with the music, I had a class of Glenglassaugh thirty-year whisky in my hand, my friends all around me, and gorgeous females flitting about. The finding myself in the bottom of a bottle had stopped, the losing myself in a nameless woman had been a little harder to cut back on. I took a sip of the heavenly amber liquid, determined to enjoy this day. To enjoy this life I had fought so hard to get for myself. This life that I had given up so much to have.
A pair of large breasts pressed into my back. “Want to take this party upstairs?” a voice cooed in my ear.
Another girl leaned in. “We both want to play.”
My cock didn’t even twitch. What was wrong with me? This should be every guy’s dream, but all I could think was that girl two’s voice was whiny, and girl one’s breasts felt like boulders poking into my shoulder blades. Neither of them had a cute-as-fuck head tilt or nibbled on their bottom lip when they were worried about something or twisted their hands in complicated knots when they were nervous.
Or, hell, maybe they did, but I would never know them well enough to find out for sure. It was then that I knew I was done. Done with these one-night stands that brought release but no true relief, these faces that blurred from one to the next, faces that sure as hell didn’t give a shit about me. Done.
I stood then, causing girl number one to spill her drink. “Sorry, ladies, tonight’s just not the night.”
Girl one huffed, and girl two pouted, neither action was very attractive. But at least when I showed no signs of reconsidering, they left. I gave a signal to my head of security, John, not to let anyone new past, and he nodded in acknowledgement.