Best Friend's Brother #3 (Best Friend's Brother Romance Series - Book #3) (4 page)

His trainer gave him water and stuck gauze in his
nose and did his best to help him relax. Ian looked spent. I looked over on
Ralph’s side of the octagon and realized that he did too. He was still bleeding
from his nose and he was sweating profusely. His wide chest was heaving,
gulping in air
like
he couldn’t get it fast enough. I
thought, and Buster did too, that it was safe to say it was still anybody’s
fight.

The third bell rang and I wondered if Ian was as
glad to know it was the last round as I was. I couldn’t imagine putting my body
through all of that…over and over. Ian rushed towards Ralph immediately,
throwing punches. Ralph was in defensive mode. Ian forced the other man back
against the mesh and that was when Ralph had had enough. He used both of his
big hands to push Ian back off of him. Ian went back about two feet, stumbled
and regained his footing quickly. Ralph took advantage of Ian’s momentary loss
of composure with a round kick to his side. That knocked Ian further back and
this time he went down on one knee, but managed to get back up before Ralph was
on him. Ralph hadn’t expected Ian to get up so quickly and completely missed
dodging the right hook Ian threw out that landed hard on the side of his head.
It knocked him to the floor. He rolled and began to struggle up as Ian pounced
from behind.

 
Ralph wasn’t
ready to be taken down however and continued to struggle to his feet, almost
carrying Ian up piggyback with him. Before he was all the way to his feet, Ian
let go and was ready to land a kick to the center of the other man’s chest.
That sent Ralph stumbling back, but he didn’t go down. He used the momentum of
his back against the octagon to propel him forward into Ian. The problem for
Ralph was that it propelled him right into Ian’s fist and the hardest punch I’d
seen him throw yet. Ralph hit the mat with a bounce. He didn’t get back up. The
referee took a pulse and then announced Ian the winner. I looked at Buster and
said, “I’m sorry about your money, but now you know not to bet against Ian next
time.”

Buster grinned and winked. “You got it little missy.
Hang on to that one, he’s
gonna
be wearing one of
them big belts someday.”

I took one last look at Ian as he went by. He was
still bleeding a little bit from his nose, but he was smiling from ear to ear.
I wanted to tell him I was proud of him, but I stuck to my guns. This wasn’t
the time or place for that serious conversation. I’d let him enjoy his victory
tonight and then in a day or two when I can work up my nerve, I’ll call
him…maybe.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

IAN

I wish that I could hold onto the feeling I have
after a few good rounds forever. When I walk out of that octagon, victorious, I
feel pumped and excited and more alive than ever. Mundane worries are muted and
all that matters is that single moment. That’s not to say I forget about my
little sister. She’s always with me. It’s just at that moment I allow myself no
worries. I want to run and yelp
like
I did when I was
a kid. I was still grinning ear to ear after I showered and changed and went
back out front to meet Kristie. As soon as I saw her face, very pretty, also
smiling, some of my adrenaline seemed to ebb and some of my worries came
slipping back through the cracks.
What
was I doing
?
“Hi baby, you were amazing,” she said, and then suddenly she was all over me. I
know most guys would have an instant hard on. Kristie used to have that effect
on me too, but tonight I just wanted to peel her off of me and let her know
that wasn’t what tonight was about.

“Thanks, are you ready to go eat?” Her long black
hair was smooth and shiny and her make-up was just so. Her giant silicone boobs
were showing just enough cleavage to make a man who hadn’t already seen them in
every position possible, want to see more. Her jeans fit
like
they were made for her and her nails were long and red and as glossy as her
pouty lips. She was a wet dream and I felt nothing.

“Sure, or we could skip dinner and go straight to
your place.” She let one of those long fingers slide down the side of my face,
stopping just underneath my chin. I shivered and said, “I’m really hungry. That
fight took a lot out of me.”

“Okay then, wherever you want to eat. I have to lose
those five pounds.”

I looked at her perfect body and wondered if the
five pounds was in her head. Maybe it was five pounds of crazy, or maybe I was
the crazy one…

“Arnold’s?”
I asked.

She made a face and said, “Really? That place is
pure grease. It’s not good for your body or your skin.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Then you pick.”

“Sweet Tomatoes?” she said.

“A salad, really?
Did you just watch that fight?”

“Okay then, you pick.
”
 
I sighed and took her arm.

“We’ll decide on the way,” I told her.

We got in the car and I headed for a place called
Cattle Baron
.
 
I
could get a steak there and she could have her rabbit food. I remember now why
I’d stopped taking her out to eat when we were together. Eating out with a
person who either never ate anything or complained the whole time was never any
fun. When we got inside the restaurant we had to wait to be seated. While we
were sitting on the bench waiting, a young woman walked by. She was maybe
twenty or twenty-one and she was really pretty. She had that wholesome country
girl look to her. She had on a jean skirt and cowboy boots and the outfit
reminded me of the one Alexa wore the last night we were together. She had
looked so hot in that. Kristie looked her up and down distastefully as she
walked by and when the girl was out of earshot she said, “That one looks like
she just rolled off the hay truck. Doesn’t she know this isn’t Oklahoma?”

I raised an eyebrow. It was at Kristie’s judgment,
not the beautiful girl. Then she had to talk about the lady next to us that she
found, “grossly fat” and the man who was holding a toddler and struggling with
twins while his pregnant wife took the only available seat, “needed to trim his
nose hairs
”.
There was no end to it with Kristie. I
thought about how upset I’d been about Alexa judging my past and I had to admit
that it was at least nice she was worried about morals rather than obsessed
with looks like Kristie was.

After we were seated I ordered a beer and she asked
for an ice water with lemon. The water came with no lemon. With a sour look on
her face she said, “Um, I asked for lemon.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the middle-aged waitress who
looked like she was probably on her second shift said. “I’ll grab that for you
right now.”

“No.” Kristie said.

“Excuse me? You don’t want the lemon after all?”

“Oh yes, I want the lemon. I want it in my water the
way I ordered it. I’m paying you for a service; I don’t expect to have to do it
myself.”

I sighed, loudly. I wanted the server to know that I
didn’t approve of my date’s rudeness. The server looked embarrassed and took
the glass of water. I still hadn’t gotten to order my steak.

“Kristie, maybe if you were nicer to people…”

“I’m nice. I’m nice when some minimum-wage, middle-aged
ginger isn’t screwing up my order.”

Kristie didn’t work. She called herself a model but
the last job I know that she had was posing half-naked for the Harley
dealership here in town. She was twenty one and still lived off of her Daddy’s
money. She paid for her boob job last year with her “allowance
”.
I looked up and saw the server on her way back. Looking
at Kristie I said, “Please be nice.” She rolled her eyes but when the woman sat
the water down in front of her, Kristie gave her a fake, too-white smile and
said, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” the waitress said. “Are y’all
ready to order?”

 
I could see
by Kristie’s face she was working up a comment about the “Y’all” as soon as the
server walked away. This was such a mistake. We ordered and as Kristie talked
about God
knows
what; I let my eyes roam the
restaurant. There were a lot of couples there and most of them looked happy. I
thought about the night that Alexa and I went out to dinner and how it had just
been fun and relaxed. Tonight was tense and annoying and we didn’t even have
our food yet.

“Oh look, it’s Travis Scott,” she said suddenly. I
looked up and sure enough the homecoming king himself had just walked in.
Travis Scott’s father owned most of the real estate in our town. Before my
parents bought the house I grew up in, they had rented it from the Scotts.
Travis was good-looking, rich and athletic. He was also one of the most
arrogant assholes I’d ever met. Kristie didn’t go to high school with us. She
had moved here with her dad just two years ago. I made the mistake of pointing
Travis out one night when she and I first started going out. I don’t know if
she ever actually slept with him, but there were times at some parties we went
to that I thought she was about to give him head right there in front of me.
“Hi Travis!” she said, waving her gold-
bangled
arm in
the air. Travis was as
fake
as she was. As soon as he
saw us, he pasted a big, fake smile on his face. In middle school he used to bully
me.

“Kristie, Ian, how good to see you.” Kristie was
practically gushing as she said, “Oh you too, Travis. It’s been too long. What
have you been up to?” I mumbled a hello, but I don’t think anyone noticed. That
was okay though because as long as Travis was talking to her, I didn’t have to.

“I’ve been out of state opening up another branch of
the real estate firm for my father,” he said. “I travel extensively with this
job.”

“Oh I’m so jealous,” she said. “That’s the kind of
job I want.”

Travis smiled and said, “I thought you were a
model.”

“I am,” she said with a pouty lip, “but it’s a tough
business to break into.”

Travis ran his hand down her arm
like
I wasn’t even there as he said, “I’m sure you’ll find something soon. You look
like you should be on the cover of SI.”

Jeez…"“SI”…he was too cool to even say Sports
Illustrated. Thankfully, the server brought our food then and Travis went away.
I wished he
would have
taken Kristie with him when I
heard her say, “What is this?”

“Your salad ma’am…”

“I specifically said, ‘dressing on the side.’ Ian,
didn’t you hear me say it?” I had heard her say it, but I was in no mood to
agree with her.

“No, I don’t think you did,” I told her. She was
looking at me when she was crazy. When she turned back to the waitress I gave
the poor woman a wink and popped a bite of steak in my mouth.

“I can’t eat this.”

“I’m sorry; do you want a new one?”

“Of course!
And don’t think it will be okay just to scrape the dressing off the top either.
If I taste one drop of oil or vinegar…”

“Kristie! That’s enough. Just let her
take
back the damned salad and give it a rest.” She looked
shocked. The waitress gave me an appreciative look and took the salad. When she
was gone, Kristie said, “Honey, I know that you had a long day with your fight
and all, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me that way,
especially in front of people.”

That was how she fought. She never raised her voice.
The whole time we were together I would have given anything to have one good
knock-down drag out fight where everyone said what they were really thinking…like
the one I had with Alexa. “Then stop talking to people like they’re dirt,” I
told her and I popped another piece of steak in my mouth. It was the only good
thing about the evening. When dinner was over, I dropped Kristie back at her
car.

“You want me to drive my own car to your place?” she
asked.

“No Kristie, I’m going to go home and get some
sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“I don’t mind if we don’t have sex. I’ll just hold
you…if you can stand it,” she said with what she thought was a seductive smile.
I had a headache.

“Not tonight, Kristie.”

Not ever. Tonight had been a giant mistake. I wasn’t
going to let it go any further. “Drive safe,” I told her. “See you around.” I
drove away while she was still standing there gaping at me. I didn’t care.
Hopefully she won’t start calling me again. There was only one person I wanted
to talk to and only one woman I wanted in my bed. She was a ginger, as Kristie
would say, and I missed the hell out of her.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

IAN

I went home after I dropped Kristie off, feeling bad
all over again. I felt bad for asking her out when I was desperate for company.
I never really wanted to see her. I wanted an escape and what I got was the
same old miserable deal as I had gotten in the past. Only now, I had led her to
believe that I wanted to pursue something with her again. The fact was I
couldn’t imagine now why I had ever been with her in the first place, or why I
had stayed with her so long. She was so superficial and vain and bitchy. If I
was
the waitress I would have dumped the salad on her head.
I left the poor woman a fifty dollar tip. I hoped that made her night a little
better.