Page 54 of Until You're Mine
“I’ve rethought a lot this past year,” he said, “including what I spend my time on. I’d, uh, like to know more about what you do.”
Her first instinct was to keep it bottled up and safe from his judgment—another move I’d made enough to recognize, especially now that I knew her ticks and tells. I nudged her foot again. And earned a darted glare.
But then she sighed and picked up the paper-wrapped chopsticks. “This past year, I’ve been trying a new medium. I take pages from old novels, ones that people are throwing out or getting rid of, and paste them onto my canvas. Once they dry, that becomes my new canvas and I paint my subject over it. I know it sounds messy, but it works really well with this sort of dripping effect I use, and it gives the pieces more dimension. Anyway, that’s the hope.”
She nudged my foot in a move I took to meanthere you go, but you should know I’m not exactly happy about giving in.
“I’d like to see those paintings sometime,” Blake said.
“Yeah, maybe.” Her tone was cautiously monotone.
The waitress came over and jotted down our order, and talk turned to what we knew best—all things MMA. We speculated about Cyclone Jones’s odds, rehashing several of his fights before agreeing he had a good chance at regaining the belt, and it was going to be twice as awesome to be there to see it in person. I still could hardly believe I was going to get to fight at the same venue, and when I voiced that, talk drifted to my upcoming bout.
Blake waved a hand in front of Brooklyn to gain her attention. “Hey, you think they’d let you into the gym to see Conrad? Then you could find out more about what type of training he’s doing these days. If you go over under the pretense of telling him you’re glad he agreed to the fight, I’m sure they’ll let you hang around for a while.”
I tensed as quickly as she did. “She’s not going anywhere near that asshole again. I don’t need to find out what kind of training he’s doing to beat him.” Thinking of the way he’d grabbed her sent heat through my veins, and I couldn’t wait to get in the cage, where I could channel my pent-up anger at the perfect target.
Blake turned his steely gaze on me. Guess that meant I couldn’t make fun of Brooklyn for her rambling explanation about us leaving—but to go to different places—in his office earlier. We were showing our cards left and right.
Didn’t matter, though. I wasn’t backing down. “I don’t trust the guy. The asshole grabbed her and jerked her around that night at the bar, and I refuse to put her in that kind of position again.”
She looked at me like I’d grown a unicorn horn. Then a slow smile spread across her face, and it hit me square in the chest.
“Underestimating your opponent is a big mistake,” Blake said. “Lots of fighters make it, and I hoped you’d learned your lesson.” Implying that I’d underestimated my opponents before, and that was how I fell from grace.
“My situation was different. I was going through personal shit”—I barely resisted saying,like I told you when I came to you and asked you to train me—“but it’s under control now.”
“Personal feelings are another thing that can get in your way. That shit can’t enter the cage.”
“Might as well stomp outallfeelings while you’re at it, right, Dad?” Brooklyn asked, her words dripping with sarcasm. “That makes for better soldiers who just bark ‘yes, sir.’”
His nostrils flared, and as he gripped the edge of the table, a vein in his forehead popped out. I didn’t want to go head-to-head with the guy in a Chinese restaurant. Or anywhere for that matter. He was a fucking brick wall, even if he’d be slower now than he used to be.
Luckily, I was as experienced in de-escalating situations as I was at detaching. Unless it was fighting in the streets, but that was a different story, a different version of me. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” I lifted my hands so he’d focus on me—if he yelled at Brooklyn right now, he might lose her for good, and while she would undoubtedly insist she didn’t care, I knew she would. “I agreed to do things your way, and if we need to find out more about his training, fine. But don’t rope Brooklyn into it. If that means it’s not happening, fine. I’ll just watch hours and hours of film. I’ll find a way to win that fight, I swear.”
“We need that win, son,” he said, and it came out firm but with a raw, desperate edge that made me suspect there was more at play here.
Just what I needed. Even more riding on this fight.
…
I was tired; Brooklyn was tired. But I couldn’t just say good-bye to her and head home. Our time together was limited, and the hour I’d wanted to steal for us had ended up spent in a Chinese restaurant with her dad. They say all’s well that ends well, but I’d spent the rest of dinner tiptoeing around, and Brooklyn gave up on talking altogether.
I parked my motorcycle and then leaned against it, watching and waiting.
The familiar turquoise Mustang turned into the parking lot, and it was all I could do to not fucking skip over to her. Instead I strode over, opened her car door, and pulled Brooklyn into my arms. My lips sought hers, the kiss immediately diffusing the tension that’d taken up residence in my neck and shoulders.
Keeping her tucked tightly to my side, I walked her up the stairs, unlocked my apartment, and pushed inside.
She ran her hands up my arms and peered deep into my eyes. “I told Finn I was going to see an old friend and warned him I might be home late, but I know you’ve got an early morning, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad takes it upon himself to personally train-slash-torture you tomorrow.”
“Are you telling me that I need to make it quick? Because you’ve taken some jabs at my endurance before, and—”
She cut my words off with a hard kiss. “I’m saying I worry about you, and don’t make a big deal about it, or I’ll take it back.”
I don’t think I’ve ever grinned so wide in my life. “You worry about me? You, the hardcore girl who doesn’t care about cocky, self-entitled fighters? The very same girl who once accused me of being a thug and topped it off with telling me she wasn’t interested in my magic penis?”
She shoved me. “Evidently you missed the part where I told you not to make a big deal about it. I’m about to take it back.”
