Page 22 of Until You're Mine
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By the time I made my way out of the locker room, my limbs practically dragged behind me, each step taking more effort than usual. Before today I’d thought Liam was the sadist of the Roth clan, but after my time in the cage with Blake, he won, hands down—which was where my hands were staying, because I didn’t think I could lift my arms anymore. He’d never said a word about Brooklyn, either. Just instructed me on my blocks, and every time my hands slipped an inch or I couldn’t get my arms back up fast enough, he took advantage.
Since I was only defending, I didn’t throw a single punch or kick, and while I’d like to say that if it’d been a real fight, it would’ve been close, I wasn’t sure. My reflexes were slower than they used to be, and I needed to get faster all around, repeating those movements until my muscle memory did half the work for me.
I also needed a set opponent so I could prepare better for the way he fought.
I needed a lot of things to get to where I wanted to be.
More than anything, I needed focus. One fixed goal—landing a big fight that I could prepare for and then win so I could get the next fight and the one after that—and everything I did should move me toward that.
Walking past the front desk as fast as possible would make me a hypocrite after what I’d said yesterday about avoidance, but I was all set to do it anyway. It made it easier to be strong and walk on by when Brooklyn wasn’t seated behind it.
The door to Blake’s office swung open, fast enough I had to jump back, and the blonde I’d been trying to avoid burst out of it. “I’m your daughter, not an asset—that’s why.”
She pulled up short when she saw me, then she turned and headed toward the exit, and I wished for invisibility. I didn’t want Blake to know that I’d seen the fight and incur the fallout or wrath, especially after he’d caught me staring at Brooklyn earlier. I didn’t want to get into family drama—or any drama, for that matter. I didn’t have time and my goals were finally back on track.
Making a hasty exit became my next goal, so I took my chances, darting past his office and pushing out the backdoor.
Brooklyn stood off to the side, the afternoon rays of sun giving her hair a glowing effect and highlighting the pretty features that drew me in even as I told myself to walk on by with nothing more than a “later” thrown over my shoulder.
This morning she’d looked a little tired, but the expression on her face now conveyed raw hurt. The shininess in her eyes led me to believe she’d been crying, and she blinked a couple of times, clearly trying to compose herself.
Usually the sight of tears sent me sprinting in the other direction. In my younger years, it annoyed me how often people cried over tiny, inconsequential things. I managed to suck it up and hold it together whenever I got shuffled to another home where I wasn’t wanted, so why did they get to cry over things that’d work themselves out in a day or two?
No one wanted to be consoled by that guy. I’d lost some of my jaded edges and had become a pinch more sympathetic, but I still didn’t know what to say besides “suck it up,” and that usually only made people more upset. Especially girls. But I couldn’t just leave her crying in the parking lot. And as I took in how upset she looked, I felt way more than a pinch of sympathy.
“You okay?” I asked.
Her gaze remained fixed on the ground. “Sure.”
I wanted to cup her chin and force those blue eyes to look at me. To keep myself from doing exactly that, I crossed my arms, only remembering once they were in place that moving them hurt like a bitch. “Not buying it.”
She sniffed. “Not selling it.” I continued to stare until she cracked and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s whatever. Disappointing but not a surprise. Or it shouldn’t be.” Her voice wavered and she pressed her mouth into a tight line. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
I glanced from her to my bike, contemplating what Ishoulddo: tell her good-bye and then hop on and ride away; and what Iwantedto do: whatever it took to make the sorrow go away. Part of me wished I was as big of an asshole as I used to be. That I could ride off and say no one gave a shit about me and I didn’t give a shit about anyone.
But I had a mom who’d blown holes in that old code, and even though I’d only known Brooklyn for a little over a week, I cared enough that I couldn’t just walk away without it leaving my gut in a knotted mess. More than that, Ineededto find a way to put a smile back on her face.
“Come on, then. We’re going for a ride.” I grabbed my helmet and extended it to her. “I’m not going to be persuaded by your eyebrow crinkle, either. You’re climbing on behind me, so deal with it.”
“All the guys in my life are so damn demanding,” she huffed, but she took the helmet. Then she glanced toward the gym. “Actually, I was planning on doing more work once I cooled off. I still have so much to do and—”
“Less talking, more hopping on my bike.” I took the helmet I’d just given her out of her hands and put it over her head. I straddled my motorcycle and fired up the engine. Since this was one of my epically bad ideas, I silently urged her to hurry. Thelastthing I needed was for her dad or one of her brothers to see her on the back of my motorcycle. “Let’s go, bruiser. I don’t got all day.”
I couldn’t see it through the shield of my helmet, but I knew the eyebrow crinkle was back in full force. Finally she climbed on behind me. “Hold on,” I said, and she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around my waist.
I gave myself one quick second to soak in the feel of her curves pressing into my back and the whiff of light, floral perfume that made me think of the night I’d had her pinned against the mat. Then I punched it, grinning when she hugged me even tighter.
Just like that, my goals went hazy again.
Chapter Thirteen
Brooklyn
Shane wove around vehicles so quickly I didn’t have a single chance to ease my grip on him. Safety first and all, and if that meant I could feel the way his body moved with the motorcycle, then that could hardly be held against me.
The ocean air washed over us, and as I sucked in a deep breath of it, everything else faded away.
