Naked Choke (A Stepbrother MMA Romance) (11 page)

Chapter Nineteen

An hour and a half later, and he's still not back. I've
texted him five times, and no answer. I lie on my bed, ears pricked for the
sound of his return. There's no way I'm getting to sleep tonight unless we
finish this conversation. I'm vacillating between anger that he left, and fear
that I've fucked everything up.

I jump to my feet, unable to wait any longer. I grab my
purse and shoot off a quick text to Maya:
Austen and I had a fight and he
stormed off. I'm going looking for him. Is that crazy?
Without waiting for
a reply, I tiptoe down the front steps and through the kitchen. I wince at the
sound of the garage door opening, praying it doesn't wake my mom and Duke, and
start the car.

A text from Maya chimes in my purse. I pick up my phone and
read:
Yes, that is crazy. Stay home and talk to him tomorrow.

I pause for a moment, rereading her words. The sane part of
my brain acknowledges that she's probably right, but my emotional side
overrides it. I back out slowly and quietly from the garage, then speed up when
I'm about a hundred yards away and flick on my headlights. I don't know if I'm
on my way to confront Austen or apologize to him, but I need to see him right
now.

I don't know where he went off to, but I don't think it'll
be too hard to locate him. Whenever my mom and dad had a fight, my dad went to
a bar, so that's my first instinct. And there are only a handful of bars in
Thurmont, mostly on Main Street, so I'll start by checking those.

Five minutes later, I'm peering out the sides of my windows,
searching for Austen's SUV. It's a common model here with the wintry road
conditions, so I'm crawling along, searching for the telltale FFA sticker in
his back window. I circle around a couple times, covering all the side streets,
but I don't see his car.

Well, there's always a possibility that he just went out for
a long drive, but there are a couple more places to check out before I head
home. I drive out toward the gym and a rundown dive in a nearby strip mall.
It's a small parking lot, and I can tell with one glance that his car's not
there. I speed up and head downtown.

I suppose part of me is hoping that he's not at Oliver's,
though I know it's probably his most likely stop. A place where people know
him, and a scene of past conquests. That's exactly the kind of place I'd head
if I needed to blow off some steam.

I slow down as I near the bar's doors, checking the sides of
the streets. There's no line outside, so there must not be a fight in the back
room tonight. I clear the other side of the doors without seeing Austen's car,
and my heart lifts a little. Maybe he's already back home.

I take the next left toward home and slam on the brakes.
There's his car, parked right on the corner. I take a deep breath and pull over
into the next space and turn off the engine. What do I even want to say to him?
I need to compose myself before I just walk in there like a nut. I flip on the
overhead light and pull down the visor mirror. My hair's a bit of a mess, so I
run my fingers through to try and tame it, then tuck it over one shoulder.

He's feeling a ton of pressure because of the tournament, I
reason as I pinch my cheeks. Plus, I think this is his first real relationship,
so he's probably not sure how to do it. He's not used to having to stick around
to have the tough conversations. I chose the worst possible time to have a big
talk with him, and he just needs to know that I'll be patient. I don't expect
the world of him right now. I'm fine with how things are, and know he just
needs to focus on his fighting right now.

I nod, pleased. That all sounds very reasonable, which will
offset the fact that I just stalked him to this bar. No, stalked is too harsh.
Followed. Sought him out.

I put my keys in my purse and get out of the car. I walk
calmly toward the door of the bar and the bouncer turns to me. I feel a sinking
sensation in my stomach.
Duh, Cat
. I'm not legal and I'm not with the
famous Austen Riggins, so I'm not even going to be allowed in. He looks at me
expectantly, raising his eyebrows just a hair.

"Hi," I say, flashing him my best smile. "I, um,
forgot my wallet at home. But I've been here before. With Austen Riggins. It
was for a fight, and you were working the door," I continue as he stares
at me silently. Shit, what were the names of the guys who fought that night? I
need proof.

"No ID, no entry. Even for you, sweetheart," he
adds, giving me an appreciative glance. I clear my throat awkwardly. Maybe
being straightforward is the best approach.

"Look, to be honest, I just need to talk to Austen. I
know he's here, and I just need to see him."

"Why don't you call him?"

"Um, well, he's sort of not answering his phone. Maybe
you could just grab him from inside for a second?" I ask hopefully.

"Sorry, haven't seen him tonight."

"But…no, I mean his car's right there," I frown,
pointing toward the corner behind me.

"Sorry," he repeats.
What the hell?
Austen
wouldn't park right there and then not go in. There's nothing else happening in
this neighborhood at this hour. Why's the bouncer lying to me? I see him look
behind me and I step out of the way as a group of three women approach from the
other direction. They all flash their IDs and I frown enviously. The bouncer
opens the thick door and the sound of music and loud voices pours out onto the
sidewalk.

I glance inside at the dimly lit bar and my heart stops.
There's Austen. With another woman in his arms. He has her pressed up against
the bar with his tongue down her throat and his hands grasping her ass.

The door shuts, the music dampened, but the image still
replays itself in front of my eyes. I'm vaguely aware that the bouncer is
watching me.

"I…sorry," he says for a third time, more quietly
now. I toss my head slightly, as if I can shake off what I just saw, and turn
around.

I feel like I'm in a daze as I walk back to my car. I get in
and lay my forehead down on the steering wheel. My hands come up and I begin to
pound on it. Suddenly I let out of scream of frustration, and that's when my
tears start.

"Fuck, fuck,
fuck
!" I swear as my palms
begin to ache. I keep hitting the wheel anyway. I'm so stupid. So very, very
stupid. People don't change. Austen told me himself what his deal was on our
very first date, and I should have listened. All that stuff about me being
different? Those were just lines; he's probably said them dozens of times
before to a dozen different girls. It's that charm, that "good guy"
sense that he projects, I bet it lets him get away with this kind of bullshit
time and time again.

I start the car as I take a stuttering breath. I have to
focus hard to obey the traffic laws on my way home. My mind is playing out
every interaction I've ever had with Austen on a constant loop. I go over every
gesture, every word, trying to assign meaning. I assumed we were exclusive,
though it's true we never had that talk. Tonight was our first real relationship
talk, and that clearly went horribly. But we had sex without a condom. Though
he did say afterward we should keep using them. As I pull into the garage, I
have a troubling thought:
what if this isn't the first time he's cheated?

Chapter Twenty

I shut off the car and glance over at the empty spot where
Austen's car should be. Who knows when he'll be back? I let myself in the
kitchen door and sneak up the stairs feeling drained but humming with
unexpressed emotion.  The one person I could talk to is Maya, but she told
me not to go, and I went ahead and did it anyway. If I were her, I’d be
exhausted with me. I’ve asked her to lie constantly, and then ignored her
advice. I wouldn’t want to hear from me.

I’m too distracted by my thoughts to notice the light on
under the bathroom door. As it opens, I hop quickly up the last two stairs and
try to make it into my room before Logan sees me. I’m just barely too late.

“Hey,” he whispers as I cross the threshold into my bedroom.

“Hey,” I reply, struggling to keep my voice from cracking. I
turn to close the door before he notices that I’m acting strangely.

“You OK?” he asks.

“Yep, fine,” I reply tightly as I shut the door. He just
manages to slip his hand through the inches-wide crack before I can. I stare
down at the floor as I feel his eyes on me. I know I must look like shit.

“Open the door, Cat,” he says quietly. I slowly obey, but
don’t move from my spot blocking his way into my room. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” I protest.

“Liar. Well?” I shake my head. I can’t talk to him about
this. “Was it Austen?” I pause, and then nod my head yes. “Tell me.”

I sigh and turn around as another tear trickles down my
cheek. He takes the opportunity to come in and shut the door behind him.

“We had a fight. I was pressuring him to tell my mom and
your dad. And then he got mad and left, and I followed him. It was stupid.” I
stop, not wanting to relive what happened next.

“Is that it?” he asks. I finally make eye contact with him.
He’s standing in the middle of my room, his perfectly trained body as relaxed
as ever, a brown curl of hair skimming his forehead just above his dark
eyebrow.

“No,” I admit. “I found him down at Oliver’s. We had our
first date there. He was all over some girl—“My voice cracks and I take a deep
breath that turns into a sob. “It was stupid of me.”

Logan takes two quick steps and envelopes me in a tight hug.
“It wasn’t stupid of you. Austen can make you believe almost anything. He just
has that effect on people. He had me convinced until I was eight that our dad
had metal bones, and that’s why he was so strong.”

“Really?”

“No. It was actually until I was ten, but that just makes me
sound like an idiot.” I actually find myself laughing, the sound muffled
against his broad chest. All of a sudden I’m aware that I’m pressed against
him. That he’s wearing a soft white t-shirt through which I can feel every
muscle of his torso. Maybe he can feel my change, because he suddenly drops his
arms and steps back. I sit down on the edge of my bed and he takes a seat next
to me, leaving about an inch between our thighs.

 “So you don’t think I’m dumb, or crazy, or something?”
I ask, wiping my eyes. He reaches across me and grabs a tissue from my bedside
table and offers it to me.

“No, I think it’s pretty clear that I don’t think that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Cat,” he says, running a hand through his unruly
hair.

“Oh. The, um, the kiss? Well, you were just so different
after that, I didn’t even think you liked me anymore. Even just as a friend, I
mean.”

“You rejected me pretty hard,” he points out with a rueful
smile.

“I was dating Austen,” I counter.

“Yeah. And Austen always gets what he wants,” Logan says.
There’s no anger in his words, just a resignation to the facts of his life with
his older brother.

We sit quietly for a moment. “I threw away my college info.”

“I know. I saw.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured you’d talk to me about it if you wanted to. Or
that maybe you were talking about it to Austen instead.”

“I never told him that I even visited.”

“Really?”

“No,” I shrug. “I don’t know why. I just didn’t think he’d
understand.”

“When did you start dating?”

“Oh. Um, well, he asked me out at my birthday party,
actually.”

“Wow, he moves fast.”

“I guess. I was the one pressuring him tonight to move
faster, though. My mom almost, um, caught us the other day, and I was starting
to feel really shitty about lying. I don’t know, I thought he’d be happy to
finally tell them. It was stupid of me.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“What?”

“That you’re stupid. Like it’s your fault or something that
he went out and hooked up with another girl.”

“I chose a bad time to bring the whole thing up. I mean,
he’s got so much pressure on him to win the fight, and we never definitively said
we were exclusive, we didn’t use that word…” I trail off as I see him looking
at me with an incredulous expression. “What?”

He shakes his head, and it almost looks like he’s going to
laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I wish you could hear yourself. You’re a smart,
beautiful, kind, giving woman, Cat. Why are you content to get so much less
than you deserve?”

I stare at him for a moment. No one’s ever said anything
like that to me before. His eyes are locked onto mine, searching, as if to see
if his words have landed. I feel a sudden calm, and for the first time in a
long time, I know exactly what I want to do.

I lean forward and softly press my lips against his. He
doesn't move toward me, but his lips part. I take it as a positive sign and slip
my hand around the back of his head and through his wavy hair. I’m shocked as
he pulls his head back sharply.

“Cat! What are you doing?”

"I, ah, sorry," I stumble. "I thought you, I
mean, you were saying such nice things—"

“Yeah, because you feel bad. I’m dating Sara, you know
that!” he exclaims as he jumps up. “You gave me advice about her!”

“Well, I want you to be happy! And she’s nice!” I shoot
right back, too surprised to completely feel the sting of his rejection.

“That’s—well, thank you!” he replies huffily.

“You’re welcome! Why are you yelling at me?!”

“You can’t kiss me just because you’re in a fight with
Austen, alright? That’s not fair. I’m trying to make things work with Sara, and
I can’t do that if I still have feelings for you!”

“I’m not—wait. You still have feelings for me?”

“That’s not the point. I’m dating someone else.”

“Right. Yes. I know that. And as someone who was cheated
on
tonight, I would never want…but I didn’t kiss you just because I’m mad at
Austen, alright? I think…I think I’ve always had feelings for you. I guess ever
since you left me the book on my bed. Maybe even before, I don’t know. I think
that you see me in a way that no one else does. And I like who you see, and I
want to live up to that vision.”

There’s a long silence. I feel like I just took my heart out
of my chest and laid it on the floor between us, and I’m waiting to see if
Logan will pick it up. I stare at him, holding my breath, as his face remains
expressionless.

“I’m sorry. I’m with Sara now. I’m happy with her.”

“Yes, right. I understand,” I whisper. “You two…you seem
good together. I won’t, you know, try to get in the middle again. I’m sorry.”
He nods. I walk around him to the door and open it. “Thanks for your help
tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” Logan replies formally, stepping out into
the hallway. “I hope…goodnight, Cat.”

“Goodnight, Logan.”