Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
I pee on the stick, then wait, wait, wait, stare, and wait. The future taunts me, telling Brad, his face turning pale, then red with rage as he roars at me, “Mom would be ashamed of you!” That would be the worst, the Brad betrayal and the Mom shame, all wrapped up in one.
A pit opens in my belly, getting bigger and bigger the longer I wait. That night was so warm, so safe, with the thunder crashing outside, but with our bodies pressed close, it didn’t matter. I’ve relived it way too many times since then. The way he felt when he first pushed inside—big, uncomfortable—and then the balm of pure pleasure that washed through me a moment later.
The test is done. The results glare up at me. I don’t know if I’m happy or sad.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
RUST
Marquis calls me into his office after the training session. It mainly was pad work with some cardio at the end. We’ll do a proper session this evening. Marquis sits behind his desk, shaking his head up at me.
“Now I really do not understand,” he says. “I thought you were missing your friend. Or you that you’d had a fight when you came home early, but the two of you seem good. Friendly. No bad blood.”
“No,” I say, swallowing, thinking of all the bad blood that could be spilled. “Is that why you dragged them out here? Because you thought we’d had a fight?”
“Something is on your mind.” He stands up, pointing his finger at me. He’s half my height, but he somehow makes it imposing. “You never talk, so I thought I’d find out. What is it, Rust?”
“It’s… nothing.”
“You paused.” He wags his finger some more. “You can’t pause suspiciously and expect me not to be curious.”
“I hope you paid for their airfare.”
“I did. Rust, this is the championship. Where are you? Come back to us, please.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I know what people say about me!” he snaps. “A drama queen, yes, but look at the results. Three championship fighters and a fourth—you—on the way.”
“You’ll see a different man later,” I tell him, leaving his office.
Brad and Mary are waiting for me in the lobby. Well, Brad is. He’s standing when I walk in with that grin on his face I recognize from years ago. For almost twenty years, we’ve known each other. “Shall we get some lunch? Marquis asked us to give you a ride, too.”
Before, I wouldn’t have questioned Mary sitting over there, withdrawn and shy. She was like that for much of her childhood, lurking in the background. But now, I want to grab her, kiss her, demand to know why she’s got that pout on her lips.
“Sure, Brad,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
The three of us walk outside. Mary walks to the back of the car and climbs in without a word.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” Brad mutters.
I have. I’ve gotten into her. I did it once, and I need to do it again so badly my balls are aching even now. It’s the lowest of the low. I shrug and climb into the passenger seat, doing my best not to look in the rearview. That lasts about a minute before I cave and glance.
She’s got her hands in her lap, biting her lip again. She couldn’t make the nerves any more obvious if she tried. There’s unmistakable sadness in her, clear pain. Is it simply being close to me, or is it that Maddie crap, too?
“Right, settle a debate,” Brad says, his voice forcibly upbeat. This is how he gets when trying to warm up the atmosphere, something I’ve never bothered to do. “We want to know. Were you really in a relationship with Maddie Maddox?”
From the back seat, my woman gasps.
My best friend chuckles. “What, Mary? Am I being rude?”
“Uh, it’s just… a little.”
“I don’t mind,” I say honestly. I almost want to thank him for bringing it up. “No, I had no idea who she was until that night.” Wait, a debate? “Did you think I had been with her, Mary?”
I try to ask it casually, like I’ve always spoken to her. It was easy when I could place her in the friend’s kid-sister box. I’ll never be able to cram my image of her into that again, no matter how hard I try.
“Uh, well, I wondered,” she says, looking down, not at me. It’s like she can’t meet my eye. It should never be that way. She should never feel too nervous or intimidated to look at me. “Celebrities have secret girlfriends all the time.”
“Brad would’ve known,” I say matter-of-factly.
“People keep secrets,” she replies.
“Not me. Not from Brad.”
Not until recently.
She finally looks up, nodding as if to tell me, fair point. If I had my way, we’d tell him right now.
“You eating lean for the fight?” Brad asks. “There’s supposed to be a good steak house around here.”