Blindsided (The Fighter Series Book 1) (24 page)

Driving away from Paige earlier was grueling. She looked so heartbroken, something I never want her to suffer. I feel like a bastard leaving her. The flight here must have been my punishment because I had to listen to Adam snore and Allison yap, talking about nothing in particular trying to keep my attention. She had no chance against my headphones blaring. I didn’t hear most of her revolting crap.

The moment I got to the hotel, I shot Paige a text letting her know I was here and dropped to the bed immediately falling asleep. Between the gym and Paige, I’m exhausted.

I jolt up hearing a banging on the door with Adam’s ass yelling between each thud. “I’m coming, douchebag! Hold your nuts,” I shout back barging to the door. “What?” I bark pulling it open.

He holds up a six-pack and a bottle of Tequila with a wolfish grin. “Party at Levi’s?”

“I,” I point between me and the drinks, “am not drinking that shit.”

“I didn’t bring it for you, it’s mine. Figured I’d come and give your lovesick ass some company.” He pushes past me and sets his things on the coffee table then drops to the couch. That’s Adam. King of his own world.

“Lovesick, huh?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yes lovesick. Look at you.” He waves his hand at me. “Allison is a few doors down and you came here to pamper yourself with who the hell knows. What a bubble bath? Sweet-talk your sweetie? Rubbing one out?”

“Shut the hell up. I was tired.” I scoff.

“Yeah, from a marathon rub out.”

“From the marathon she gave me all night and this morning,” I reply giving him a wicked smile sitting down in the recliner.

“Nice!” He throws a shot of Tequila back and chases it with a swig of beer. “You’re pretty serious about her?”

I don’t respond and ponder the thought. I haven’t been serious about someone since middle school. Emily Rogers. I dated her from sixth grade to the middle of eighth before I couldn’t stand hearing her voice any longer. One evening Adam and I watched a sanctioned fight on television and that’s when it piqued my interest. Legit fighting…shit, you couldn’t discourage me from it. I started hitting the gym daily, found a much younger Harvey and Perry and began training. Emily hated it and threatened to leave me. Rule number one—you don’t threaten me. I laughed at her and left her, never looking back. Matter-of-fact, I brushed off all relationships after her. Don’t get me wrong, I had my fallback girls as I trudged through high school. There was no way I wasn’t getting my dick wet, but I’m a loner and quite frankly, I’ve enjoyed it…until Paige.

“You’re falling for her, dude,” he says.

I shake my head.

“Who you lying to? Me or you?” Adam stares intently then chuckles shaking his head. “You’re too scared to admit it to yourself.”

“I’m not scared of shit,” I snap.

“Then admit it.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I like her.”

He laughs then tosses back another shot. “Whether you admit it or not, you two look good together. Hope it all works out and you keep your wits about you. Tame that animal that craves strange since you like her,” he air quotes the word “like” cheesing like a dickwad.

Another knock on the door has Adam bounding to answer it and revealing the bitch.

“Hey, mind if I join?” Allison purrs but doesn’t wait for the answer before stepping in and dragging her nails across Adam’s chest with her stare fixated on me. She exerts a more pronounced sway in her hips, showing off just how tight that black miniskirt is. “I’m bored with nothing to do,” she whines sitting on the couch.

“We don’t have any plans. But I know the dog pound here is open late,” I quip.

She runs her tongue along her bottom lip, devouring me in her thoughts but doesn’t say anything turning her attention to Adam. I know her trick, as does he. He’s not one for sloppy seconds but will most likely play along with her little game.

I pull my phone from my pocket. I need to let Paige know.

Me: Adam may or may not have invited Allison in but she’s here.

Paige: What are you wearing?

What kind of question is that?

Me: Umm…clothes?

Paige: Make sure you keep them on.

Damn! Ouch!

Me: You should run away with me.

Where the fuck is this shit coming from?

Paige: No job equals broke.

Me: I’d pay your bills.

I just about choke on that one.

Paige: Then you’d be my pimp. Not interested.

Me: Have a great night. Text me when you get off work if you’d like.

Paige: Levi…

Me: Yeah?

Paige: I miss you.

My heart lurches and I smile slightly at the screen.

Me: I’m glad to see I’m not the only one.

I’m staring at the text and the picture of her in the little bubble beside it when Adam decides to rain on my moment. “Paige?”

I straighten myself up and place my phone under my leg. I feel like I’ve just been busted smoking by my parents. “Yeah,” I clear my throat. “She’s headed to work.”

“What’s with her?” Allison says disdainfully. “I mean look at her. She’s so…yuck. Totally not your type.”

“And what is totally my type?” I mock her voice.

She bites her bottom lip and looks innocently seductive. I’ll openly admit she’s got skills with those plump lips knowing exactly what to do and how to do it. Any other day, I’d gladly shove my dick down her throat, but I’m no longer interested.

“What? You? Someone who can’t take care of their damn self?” I chuckle.

She springs from the couch and saunters toward me, lowering her bright blue, low-cut shirt to my face and placing her tits in my view. She presses her lips to my ear. “Yes, me,” she tries tempting me. “And the last time I checked, I took damn good care of you. Do you need a reminder?” she says then with balls of steel drags her lips across my ear.

I stand catching her by the waist and pulling her into me—hips to hips, her against my chest. I lean my head down to her cheek. “First,” I hum gravelly and her breath hitches. “I don’t need a reminder after what I had all night. Second, if you disrespect my girl by touching me again, I’ll make sure to let the wolves have at you. Do you understand me?” I push her back and glower at her.

Her face crumbles, her eyes frantically searching mine. “Wha—Wh…” she stutters. Pulling her shoulders back she blinks composing herself. “I can’t believe it. You love her, don’t you?”

I drop back down to my seat uninterested in answering the question.

“You haven’t told her?” she adds.

“When did my personal life become so fucking important to you?” I gruff.

My ears fill with a malevolent snicker. “Oh this will be so much fun to watch you screw it all up.” She sits back down on the couch, crossing her legs. “And we all know you will.”

I snap my eyes to her. “No I won’t and don’t you dare try your stupid bullshit either. Don’t stop by her work, don’t plague her with your trifling ass ways. Just leave her alone.”

“Me? Oh I wouldn’t do such a thing,” she bold face lies.

“I’m not fucking stupid, Allison. I know you and Jena went to her work.”

“Oh that? We were just having some fun.”

“Keep our past out of my future,” I tell her.

“She’s going to find out about you,” she spouts. “Your appetite for sex is unreal. You’re set in your own ways, never able to be without it for long.”

“Oh, she knows,” I smile wolfishly. “There’s nothing for her to find out. I haven’t lied to her.”

“Yet,” she adds.

“Good try with Maine,” I wink.

I’ve heard enough and head to the bedroom. I’m not going to sit out there and argue with stupidity. I’ve known her long enough to know it’s all falling on deaf ears. She doesn’t give a damn. Vindictive down to her bones, trifling running in her blood…she’s out for one thing. She’s a great lay, but a sorry ass person. Shit like that used to never concern me, but after watching Paige proudly work so hard for what she has, things now have a different spin. She’s independent. Grounded. She has values and won’t stand to be seen as any less. The thing that strikes me the most is the amount of respect she has for herself. It’s downright titillating.

I turn the volume up on my phone, set it on the nightstand, and drop down onto the bed. I need to rest and reenergize my body because when I get my hands back on Paige, we’re going to have a fun time catching up.

Chapter 30

Shopping with Holly isn’t any fun. She’s dark and gothic, and it shows with the places she’s dragging me to. She even had me in black combat boots, a black leather pleated skirt, and a deep blood red shirt. Needless to say, hell no! That’s totally not my style.

“Here, try this,” I say handing her a light grey skull shirt.

She scrunches her nose. “Nope.”

“I’d wear it.”

“There’s where the problem is. Anything you wear will not be worn by this chick,” she points to herself.

I laugh. “Good point.”

“I know,” she chirps.

By my watch, I’ve been with her for almost three hours and I’m ready to give it up and go home. I pulled doubles yesterday and my feet are killing me. I’m stoked that I have almost a whole week off from both jobs but saddened that Levi isn’t here to share the majority of it with me.

I have to stop and allow my eyes to adjust to the bright sun when we walk out of the black dungeon she enjoys shopping at.

“How the hell do you do it?” I ask rubbing my eyes.

She snickers but doesn’t respond and walks off to my car.

If I’m ever brave enough to do this again with her, I’ll have to bring sunglasses.

Not only is she a horrible shopping partner, she’s awful at riding. You’d think by the way she dresses and acts that she would be laid back, lazy about the speed limits and excited with my music, but nope. You would have thought wrong. “Slow down. You’re speeding. The radio is too loud. The song sucks.” It’s nonstop! I would have never pegged her as a safety queen. I mean five over isn’t speeding, and if the song is good, turn it up and sing it loud, right?

You can only imagine the relief I felt after dropping her off at her apartment. I felt like speeding through her parking lot, blaring the worst song I could find and laughing like a madman. But I didn’t feel like hearing her mouth when she called to cuss me. If she dreams of one day being with a man like Blain, she needs to relax a little.

Stepping into my house, a succulent aroma smacks me in the face causing instant drool.

In a neon green t-shirt, Blain is slicing onions as I set my purse down on the kitchen island. “Well, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

He stops to glance up at me. “Felt like cooking,” he says.

“Uh huh? I don’t buy it.”

He places the knife beside the cutting board and grabs a towel to wipe off his hands. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I was thinking how long it’s been since we’ve had a dinner together. We used to once a week, or at least every other, but it’s been months. So sue me. I felt like spoiling my lil’ sis.”

I know Blain isn’t big on mushy, gushy feelings so instead of drowning him in them, I smile tenderly. “So…what are we having?”

Braced for sappiness, his body relaxes, unknotting from his clenched jaw down his shoulders and across his chest when not presented with it. That’s right…his little sis knows him all too well.

“Steaks with sautéed mushrooms and onions, broccoli, and mashed potatoes,” he says.

My brows furrow and I press my palm to my heart. “Is there something wrong? Did something happen?”

“No.” He gives a short laugh. “Just so happens your favorite meal is also one of mine. Quit overanalyzing shit and go wash up.”

I release a sigh, thankful nothing is wrong then head to my room to put up the three shirts I did end up buying. I’ve never had to be told twice that it was dinnertime. First time was always the charm.

My phone chirps just as I’m closing my closet door and I make a mad dash for my purse. Furiously, I dig for it, scrambling through all the compartments. Frustration begins setting it. I know I put it in here. Screw it! I grab the bottom and dump it all on the bed.