Page 18 of Until You're Mine
I insisted on getting the ice cream, and when I tried to only have a small serving—I was in training—she nearly wrestled the scooper out of my hand, not giving it a rest until my bowl was filled to the brim.I’m going to have to use some evasive maneuvers to offload at least half of that.
“Anything else going on?” she asked. “When are you going to meet a nice girl and bring her home to meet me? I’d like to be a grandma someday, you know.”
I nearly choked on my bite of ice cream. “Man, three rounds in the cage are nothing to what you put me through in one night. I’m getting some serious cardio over here.”
“Well, maybe I should be training you full-time, then—and don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t answer my question.” She pinned me with a look, one that didn’t used to work on me. Once I’d accepted she wasn’t giving up on me, I was useless to resist it.
“I’ve got to get my career back, and that means I don’t have time for nice girls.” Or even feisty blond ones that I wouldn’t exactly go calling nice.Intriguing, for sure. Definitely funny… But none of that matters because she’s off-limits and taken, and I’m shutting down thoughts of her right now.
Tammy saw life through a rose-colored filter, so I’d never be able to convince her that no woman would want a washed-up fighter without much left to his name. Not that I wanted someone who was only with me for my title, but after burning through all my money by living too large—I’d made the mistake of thinking the cash flow would never end—and then paying off stacks of medical bills despite Mom’s many protests, I had just enough to train for about the next five months. I needed a fight within that time or…well, “or” wasn’t an option. I wouldn’t rest until I was back on top, and this next time, I’d know which pitfalls to avoid, and I’d be smarter. With my fights, with my money, with the people who surrounded me.
Which was another reason I had no business entertaining thoughts of fooling around with the one girl who could screw me over in so many ways. Enough that it should scare me straight, for sure.
But there was that one possible good way, and every time I was around her, man, did I want to resort to my old ways and be completely reckless.
Good thing I’d worked so hard on my self-control.
No girl was worth losing my career, not even one as tempting as Brooklyn.
Chapter Ten
Brooklyn
I scraped my fork through the buttery garlic sauce on my plate, watching the white lines form and then immediately fill in. Dad and I had already exhausted the topics involving the weather and how delicious our food was, and that left…jackshit.
This is why I wanted Finn and Liam here. We literally have nothing to say to each other, and forcing strained interactions is only going to hurt our relationship more.
For some reason, my brain decided to flash to Shane saying that life was short, but regrets made it feel a lot longer. If that applied to dinner, the regrets must be a doozy, because it’d already felt three years long. I supposed that was…motivating? “So, what’s the schedule looking like? Do your guys have a lot of fights coming up?”
Relief softened Dad’s features and he eagerly caught the bone I’d thrown him. He talked about his roster of fighters, filling me in on weight classes, records, and chances at title fights. Liam and Finn were in the mix, of course, and while I wished Dad and I could connect on other levels besides MMA, I’d been out of that world long enough I didn’t mind hearing all about it.
“Then there’s Shane Knox…”
The tension Dad had lost as he talked about his hopes for his fighters transferred to me, creeping into my shoulders and spine. I wanted to ask if we could avoid talking about Shane Knox almost as much as I wanted to hear everything about him. Acting too aloof or too interested might clue in Dad on my conflicted feelings about the guy, so I went for the statue method and simply froze in place.
“How much do you know about him? Has Liam or Finn filled you in?”
“I…” I twisted the linen napkin on my lap. “Just, um…that, like, you guys are training him and he recently joined the team. And that he’s, you know, pretty good.”Oh my gosh, I’m practically admitting guilt. He’s going to know that I sometimes think things about Shane that I shouldn’t.
Which I do, but private things in my head that need to stay there—and only there—forever.
“He jumped into the fighting circuit right after high school,” Dad said. “Three to four fights a year and he made it all the way up to the title bout without a single loss.”
“Oh, wow. That’s impressive.” Did I sound properly fascinated and surprised, as if it was brand new information? If I knew Dad—and I did—he wanted me to be interested in his new prodigy’s fighting skills, but in a distant, oh-how-great-for-the-team way.
After my last disastrous relationship with a professional fighter, on top of that gem about how I couldn’t just run away because I’d been dumped, Dad made sure to remind me that he’d been against my relationship with Conrad “Croc” Rochenski from the beginning, and that he’d worried it would end up affecting the team. Since he’d hated and low-key threatened every guy who’d ever shown interest, I’d chalked up his dislike for the guy to that. I didn’t want to hear the I-told-you-so lecture ever again, and I had an amazing boyfriend, so I’m not sure why my thoughts even went there.
“The kid hit a rough patch after that first loss, but I’m telling you, if we make the right moves, he’s got a good shot at winning a belt someday. Sooner rather than later, too.”
If Dad vouched for his skills, I had no doubt that Shane would make it back to the top. Even though that’d only make the guy more unbearably cocky, I wanted that for him. As frustrating as he could be, and as hard as I’d tried to deny it, there was just something likeable about him. From how he insisted on walking me out, regardless of assuring him there was no need, to his witty, surprising sense of humor. He’d not only taken my psychopath teasing in stride but also turned it back on me. Then there were the glimpses of the person underneath the showy fighter front…
A confusing swirl of emotions rose up, churning through my stomach and making me question things I didn’t want to question.
I just need to have a good conversation with Trey and make it to the end of the month when he visits, and I’ll snap out of it. Until then, maybe I shouldn’t let myself think about Shane’s good traits.
I know, I’ll list Trey’s instead. He’s calm. Slow to anger, and when we disagree, he’s respectful about it instead of yelling or letting his temper get the best of him. Logical—both in the way he thinks, and that he’s a good, logical choice for me.
“The hardest thing is going to be getting him big enough fights that he doesn’t have to completely start at the bottom,” Dad said. “Because of his fall from grace, I’ve been having some trouble landing him a good fight. Liam, Finn, and I were talking about how great it’d be if we could get him in the octagon with…” He hesitated, and the hair on the back of my neck pricked up.
