Page 65 of Until We're More
Her red hair spread out on the couch when she was naked and underneath me. The way she cried my name when she tumbled over the edge. The room had spun, and I’d never come so hard in my life.
My body recalled the feel of hers all too well, and if I didn’t shut down those thoughts—and soon—I’d be sporting a hard-on at work, and it’d be hours before I could go home and do what I wanted to with it.
Unless she needed a break from our sexcapades.
Or if she was asleep, which she probably would be by the time I got home.
Also, did I really just think the wordsexcapades? A clear sign I should move on before I mentally embarrassed myself any further.This is why it’s better if my words stay in my head.
I shifted gears, thinking of fighters for Tautolo. My brain regurgitated name after name, sorting them into favorable matchups versus ones we had the best chance of securing. I grabbed a marker and scribbled them across the whiteboard on the wall, starting with the ones we’d most want and then a few middle-ground options. I’d make some calls tomorrow.
Dad entered the office right as I’d sat back down, and I rolled his chair away from his desk, ready to push to my feet again.
“You stay there,” he said. “I’m about to take off for the day. As long as you’ve got things handled.”
“I got it,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I did. Dad didn’t like talking about it, but he tired out faster than he used to, and since he’d also been doing most of the Typhoon’s training this past week, he’d been more exhausted than usual.
He’d done his time stressing and worrying over the gym for a couple decades, and when it came down to it, I ran the business side better anyway. Dad always thought of the fighters—which, as one, I appreciated—but he sometimes forgot about the bottom line and how we couldn’t afford to train people if we couldn’t keep the gym open and running.
“See you tomorrow,” he said, and I gave a nod and turned back to the mess of paperwork spread across the desk.
At least with Finn’s and Shane’s wins secured, our reputation was slowly regaining some steam, not to mention the extra revenue. Earlier, Finn and I had an argument over him wanting to give more than the usual percentage of his winnings toward coaching fees and the gym. The bigger the fight, the higher the winnings, and with our usual percentage, we’d still gotten a nice bump. Not enough to go crazy or ensure we’d have enough to keep us in the black all year, but…It’ll be enough, I’d thought then and I thought again now.If I win my fight, too, we might even get an inch or two of breathing room.
“Why not?” Finn had asked. “I knowyoudo it.”
Yeah, so you don’t have to.Since saying that wouldn’t satisfy him, I’d stuck with, “We’re good. Promise. I just looked at the expense reports. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
Truth was, I’d gotten behind on checking the reports, which I’d sworn I wouldn’t do anymore. It was one of the reasons I hadn’t caught the missing thirty grand our former employee embezzled until Brooklyn came in and verified there was a reason the amounts didn’t add up and our account was so low. I’d felt so stupid for not catching it, regardless of it happening around the same time Dad had his tumor removed. We’d been drowning in medical and physical therapy bills, as well as bills for the gym, and then I’d had to train twice as many guys on top of it, and basically I couldn’t be everywhere at all times. Still, it couldn’t happen again, even if it meant I never left the office again.
The stack of papers from the inbox on the end of Dad’s desk had spilled while I’d been hunting for a contract earlier, so I sorted through the mess, searching for the report Maddie had compiled.
There it is.I could see Brooklyn’s influence, both in the way the form was set up and in our income stream and how much it’d grown the past several months.
Now that I thought about it, I was almost sure Brooklyn had sent a text about the report a week or so ago. I’d meant to read it later and then forgot, and now I couldn’t recall if that’d happened or if I’d made it up one night when I was extra tired.
I scrolled through her texts, the conversation playing out backward, but clearly she had a purpose behind most of them, and it wasn’t business-related.
Brooklyn:It was all my idea, okay? So if you want to be mad, go ahead and be mad at me. But I saw the way you looked at her.
That one I’d received after Finn’s fight, only I hadn’t seen it until the next morning. Since having Chelsea be a ring girl for the night had been my sister’s idea, I’d let her stew. Eventually she’d come in and demand to know what happened. Kind of surprised she hadn’t yet.
I scrolled through a few others, one about how denial was for the weak and a couple about the beach volleyball game, until I gave up on finding the text I was searching for and hit the call button.
Music drifted across the gym, and then my sister showed up in the doorway of Dad’s office, her phone to her ear. “Yo! What’s up?”
I tossed my phone on the desk. “Didn’t you send me a text about the expense report?”
“Like a week ago.”
“Yeah.” I raked a hand through my hair. “I got behind and now I can’t find it through all your other obnoxious texts.”
She grinned like I’d given her a huge compliment, and I accidentally smiled back at her. Maybe I owed her the tiniest bit for the ring girl incident. It’d certainly sparked me into action. Most likely would’ve only made it another day or two before cracking anyway, and not that I’d admit it out loud, but when it came down to it, I knew she just wanted me to be as happy as she was with Shane.
Too bad that wasn’t in the cards.
Unless…
Nope. I can’t ask her to stay. Iwon’t.
