Dirty Love (Fighting Dirty Series Book 1) (3 page)

I need to work on my routine. I don’t know why but one of the requirements is that we perform a dance number.

I suppose they want to see how fit we are.

There are so many stories about Parker. I guess you might say I’m not one of the girls he normally dates.

He’s rumored to date a few of the cage girls, but he’s usually seen with B-class celebrities.

Stepping into the shower, I imagine what it would be like to give him a private performance at my audition— his eyes would roam my curves as I dance for him. Would he want to do more than just watch me? 

Screwing around with anyone under contract with Lucky 7 would kill my chances, but Parker doesn’t strike me as a man who follows rules—but instead one who makes them just as good as he breaks them.

Most guys are afraid to ask me out because of my brother and Royce. Sure it sucks, but that just means that they aren’t man enough for me anyways. I twist my hair in a knot on my head after toweling off. I go to my room to dress in my workout clothes and grab my gym bag. I’m on the evening shift working the desk. I hope Sug is working, she always knows what to do with my unruly waves. My hair seems to have a mind of its own—it never does what I want it to. If I want it curly it lies stick straight and if I want it straight, it curls up.

There’s a note on my dresser from Tiff.

Slutbag,

I bummed a shirt. I’ll give it back next time I’m over.

Love you mean it.

Tiff

I laugh, she has a real way with words. I park my jeep in the gym parking garage, and when I exit my vehicle I see Royce walking towards me.  His muscles flex under his white form fitting tee. His light brown hair is spiked at the tips. Why does he have to be so sexy?
Jerk.

“Can we talk?”

“Why?” I cross my arms. He didn’t want to talk when he stomped on my heart.

He tries to take my hand and I pull away. His touch jolts my heart. It’s been months upon months, and his touch still feels like
home
. Kline warned me not to get involved but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t stay away.

Royce was my first love.

He was attracted to me for me, he didn’t make an issue of my weight. He never said a word about my needing to shed some pounds.

When we first got together some of the gym bunnies would make snide comments about how my face was pretty for a big girl. Bitches. They don’t say shit about me now. Other than Sasha, a real clinger. She hooked her claws into my brother before he got with Tiff. After fucking with my brother the skanky bitch had the nerve to come onto me. That’s just gross. Like I’d ever screw around with someone who bumped uglies with my brother. No way. After that she moved onto Royce. Chick is weird and I couldn’t believe it when I saw her on Royce’s arm at one of the fights.

“Why do you want me back? You dumped me. Remember?”

Royce and I first met at the gym. When we first met he was in a bad place. It was a long time before he opened up to me about what it was that kept him so guarded with me.

Royce was in love once before me, with a girl named Elizabeth, but he wasn’t the only one. His best friend at the time loved her as well. It tore their friendship apart. A long story short, Elizabeth was killed in a car wreck. Royce and the other guy were pressuring her to make a choice. She took off driving while distraught, and when she crashed her car, the trauma killed her. However, the most fucked up part is that when she died she suffered a miscarriage. Elizabeth was carrying a child; which no one knew she was pregnant with.

When she passed away, Royce and the other guy were both left not knowing which one of them was the father, or who she was going to choose. Royce has never been able to forgive himself, or fully be the man I deserved because of his guilt when we were together. He thinks if he would have stepped aside letting his friend be with her…she’d still be alive. The accident wasn’t Royce’s fault though, or the other guys. Elizabeth had no business getting behind the wheel of her car while she was so hysterical. I’m not saying the accident is her fault either. Bad shit happens. It’s tragic and I’m sorry it happened, but life goes on.

Royce was trying to move on with me, until he wasn’t.

I remember the first day we met like it was yesterday.

Royce had come into the gym to talk to Jay. I remember thinking wow, when he walked in. He was a guy that clearly took care of himself. Standing at 6’4 and weighing a good 250 all muscle, with a nice tan complexion, he was pleasing to the eyes. His eyes were roaming all over my body as I stood behind the counter answering the phone.

He couldn’t keep his attention off me.

I held my finger up as I took a call coming through. It was someone wanting membership pricing. He continued to gaze at my body, like he was undressing me right there on the spot.

I felt exposed, but not uncomfortable by it, like I normally would when men checked me out. I returned his gaze and drank him in. His hair was medium brown, peaked in a faux hawk, and he had a smoldering pair of sexy grey eyes. I could have gotten lost in the storm brewing in them for days.

There was a sea of pain hidden behind his flirtatious stare. A sea I wanted to drown in as long as he kept looking at me like he was.

He broke me out of my trance when he started speaking. “What is it that you do exactly, other than standing here looking beautiful and making me hard?” I couldn’t help but laugh and blush at his forwardness. Those were the last words I expected to hear.

He was charming, the word beautiful rolled off of his tongue like velvet. How could I not melt with the way he was looking at me, like I could be his anchor. Men never came on to me so blatantly. Sure they would stare, but not like Royce. They weren’t genuine like he was. Like I believed he was.

“What you see here is pretty much it, exciting right? So what is it you do?” I turned the conversation back on him, I wasn’t comfortable talking about myself. Years of bullying had left me socially awkward.

“A little of this a little of that,” he replied vaguely. He laughed and then he just had to bite his lower lip and lick it.

I stood there like a mute, unable to speak. There was something about the way he bit that lip, and the way his tongue circled his mouth. I suddenly felt parched and, took a drink from my water, covering my awkward pause. Was I just imagining this man grabbing my face and thrusting his tongue down my throat? Maybe.

I shook my head and continued to gape at him.

“So pumpkin, what’s your name?”

“Pumpkin,” I mumbled to myself.  I followed his eyes as they shot to my chest. I could feel the heat of embarrassment washing over me.

He leaned in close, whispering his words, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your tits look like perfect pumpkins. In fact, I think I will just refer to you as Pumpkin Tits, that is unless you decide to tell me your name.” I remember thinking, what in the hell? This guy had some real nerve or no filter. But I found that I liked it. A lot.

The level of red my cheeks were had to be a solid ten. What was he asking? Oh, right my name. “Brandi,” I answered in a giggle.

“Brandi sweet like candy. I like the way it tastes as it rolls off my tongue. Tell me, do you think you taste as good as your name?”

I didn’t know what to say as I stood there giggling with red cheeks.

A man who is that big of a flirt should have come with a warning label. Caution: Bites his lip and licks his mouth in a seductive manner. So fucking sexy it is a sin. Has the capability to make you forget your own name. Gives cute pet names to strangers that makes you want to get down on your knees and beg him to call you by it one more time. He screamed danger and hot sex. And the way he was smiling at me right then told me he knew every thought I was having about him. Yeah, he knew he could push every single one of my buttons and hit the right spot.

And God did I want him too and boy did he ever.

“Yeah, I know that, but I miss us. I miss your smile. Fuck, I even miss the way you laugh. This is hard for me to even ask but will you take me back? I need you Bran. If I could take it all back, I would.” He rubs my cheek lovingly with his rough, calloused hand.

A part of me longs to lean into his touch and just say yes, but it’s not that simple. Royce hurt me, badly. My heart has the scars to prove it.

It would be easy to fall right back in with Royce, but just because he misses me doesn’t mean I am ready to forget the past five months since we’ve been apart. Royce has made no secret of his bachelor lifestyle full of booze and the skanks at the gym, and not to mention him flaunting them on his arm at the fights. Sometimes a girl on each bicep.

“Royce, I wasn’t expecting this—from you. I thought maybe you wanted to talk about the fight or something.  Not us. I need to think about it. I just need time.”

“I get it. I fucked up. Can I at least call you, this weekend? I’m not fighting. We could watch Kline’s fight together. Like we used to.” He looks at me and that pain he used to hide is prevalent. I have to wonder though if this is because OZ was flirting with me on Instagram.

“You hate Kline.”

“Hate is a strong word. I just don’t like him very much. We disagree on some things. Just say you’ll think about it. You know you want to.” He smiles at me and pierces me with his dimples; a guy with dimples wins me every time. “We can have an early dinner.”

“Fine call me Saturday, but I have to leave right after. I have to work the closing shift.” I’d love to know who came up with the bright idea to be open until 1 AM. I hate that shift, but believe it or not the insomniacs love it, and have been pushing for 24 hours.

Royce plants a kiss on my cheek. “Saturday, I won’t forget.”

I can’t help but blush as his lips brush across my skin. I’ve got to talk to Tiffany, before I make a mistake like calling Royce back over here before he walks out of the garage and back into my heart.

I go to work unable to concentrate.

Inside, Royce is working out and keeps smiling at me. I have to keep avoiding his eyes. In recent months he’s been avoiding me too. I don’t get why there is a sudden change in him.

I check the dance studio and make sure all the yoga mats are rolled up and out of way for the next class. As I work, I can’t stop thinking about Royce and what he said. I don’t know if I am ready to take him back. It’s so sudden and we’ve not talked about anything. I do know that I don’t want anyone else on the receiving end of his smiles though. I see that whore Sash trying to talk to him, but he is walking away from her. Good.

The thought of the women he’s been with since we split pisses me off and ruins my good mood. Why am I good enough for him now, is it because I’m skinny, and will look good on his arm? Is it because I am making a name for myself online? Or could it be that he truly misses me, and loves me still after all this time?

I am dragged from my thoughts by Jay’s wife, Christi.

“Things are pretty slow, why don’t you go stock the locker rooms. Make sure there are plenty of towels. We ran out the other day,” she says with a smirk.

“Sure thing.”

What was that look all about? I brush it off and start stocking the lady’s locker room. I fill the baskets with towels. Checking to make sure the complimentary soap is stocked as well before moving on to the men’s room next. I knock loudly and ask if anyone is in there. Definitely don’t want to get my eyes full. I hate walking into the men’s locker room here, it reeks of dirty socks. No matter what the cleaning service Jay hired does to the room, it has that soured sweat smell.

I proceed in stocking the baskets near the showers, and that’s when I hear a shower cut off. Shit! Someone is in here, they must not have been able to hear me, and I didn’t hear the water over the radio. Turning to run out, I end up hitting the metal baskets, knocking all of the towels onto the floor with a loud clang as the containers follow.

“Bloody hell!” I say a little too loudly. I bend down to pick the towels and the baskets up, when I am met by bare feet right under my nose. I am afraid to look up, never know what
member
might be staring back at me from this height.

“Brandi, you okay? What are you doing in here?”

My cheeks must be beet red, and it just has to be Royce standing before me. I slowly stand trying to look anywhere but at him or his crotch, where my eyes want to travel at their own free will.

I am going to kill Christi! I get the feeling that this is exactly what that look was about. That bitch has got to stop trying to play matchmaker.

She’s always pulling little stunts trying to fix me up with one of the members. I guess she thinks I should give Royce another shot.

He’s dripping wet. My eyes land on his naked chest. Heat pools between my thighs. Why does he have to look so damn good in his towel? If the cotton was another inch or two shorter I could see everything. Everything I remember being mine, once upon a time.

He even tattooed my name on his chest. Who does that unless they are serious about a person? 

My fingers trace the intricate pattern of the star tattoos that cover his upper torso. I never noticed before but on the inside of the first is my name. A tear slips from my eye as I wonder when he did such a thing. He inches down closer to me on the bed and lies down next to me. He takes over guiding my fingers to the next star, “One day these will bear our children’s names.” My fingers are brought to his mouth and the promise of his words sealed by his lips.