Page 58 of Beneath Your Beautiful
“I’m not fighting you.” Johnny was five years older than me—my teammate, my mentor, my friend, and a contender in the same weight class. His career started peaking while mine was still getting off the ground. We didn’t choose our opponents. The promoters did. But teammates fighting each other was contentious and not something I ever wanted to do. Ironically, Johnny had no problem with it.
“Your star is rising. Everyone’s buying into the Killian Vincent brand,” he’d said. “If you keep going like this, our day of reckoning will come.”
“We’ll refuse.”
“Like hell we will. We’re fighters. It’s not only what we do, it’s who we are. We’re in the UFC because we want to fight the best of the best. If the day comes, I’ll fight your sorry ass for the title. After I win, I’ll shake your fucking hand and buy you a whiskey, so you can drown your sorrows in it.”
By some terrible twist of fate, that wasn’t how it happened.
We fought to win. Not to kill. Not to finish someone off. We weren’t gladiators in the Colosseum, fighting for our lives. We believed that we were men of pride and honor. Competitors in the Octagon, friends outside of it.
Once upon a time, I was a champion. Who, or what, was I now?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eden
“Friend-zoned,” Zeke said. He was lounging on a chair in the courtyard, soaking up the rays and drinking a Gatorade while I painted my poppy field.
“I friend-zoned you and that’s working out fine.”
“No offense butIfriend-zonedyou. Killian gave me strict instructions that you were off-limits. I want to keep my job. It’s a cool gig.”
“He actually said that? Why?” I turned to look at Zeke whose eyes were closed.
“Probably because he knows I’m the resident man whore.” Zeke held up his hands. “I’m not even apologizing.”
“I can’t believe Killian. That should have been my decision, not his.” Which was true. But did he feel like there was a connection from the first time we met? I’d never had sex like that. It was so intense, so mind-blowing, so much of everything. He knew how to play my body, how to get me begging for more. With him, I had a feeling I’d always want more. But last night was more than just the sex. He held me in his arms all night, my back against his chest, and it felt so right and so good. It was hard to believe we’d taken so many detours to get to this place. I belonged in his arms, in a way I’d never felt before, not even with Luke.
“You would have gone for me?” Zeke asked.
“No. You look too much like my brother Sawyer.” He didn’t really look like Sawyer, but Zeke didn’t do it for me, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Your brother must be a stud,” Zeke said.
“He’d like to think so.”
Zeke snorted with disgust. “My ego is being bruised and battered. I’ve been relegated to brotherly love. And I’ve been friend-zoned. What the hell?”
“Just accept the challenge. Doesn’t it get old going from one girl to another?”
“Nope. They’re all different girls. That keeps it fresh. I like to keep my life simple. No complicated emotions to bog me down. If Hailey thinks I’m deep, she’s sadly mistaken.”
“Are you scared she’ll find out you’re just a pretty face?” I teased.
“Hey. That’s not fair. I’ve got a hot body too. My body is my temple, and she should be worshiping at it instead of treating me as a…friend,” he said, as if friend was a dirty word.
“Then just forget about Hailey. No one’s forcing you to be her friend.”
“I know you put her up to this.”
I shrugged. “All I did was suggest it. This was Hailey’s call.”
Zeke sighed. “Like I said, my reputation precedes me.”
I stepped back to study my field of abstract pink poppies.
“Your mural looks awesome.”
