Ruined: Loving An Alpha Male: BWWM Romance (6 page)

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scoffed.

“Nothing…Look, I have to go, Max. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He hung up on me before I could say anything else.

I sighed deeply and headed home. I should be happy for the time to study and not have to deal with Trip and his attitude, but a small part of me feels sad. Trip and I used to spend so much time together when we first started dating. After every fight, we would hang out with his entourage first. Then we would head to his apartment, and I would spend the rest of the night nursing him back to health the best way he likes—hanging out and watching him play video games. I know it doesn’t sound romantic or exciting, but it was just the point of being with him.

Ever since our relationship started going downhill, I have to admit I’ve been feeling down about it. I’ve missed him terribly, and I just really want to talk to him. Maybe if we could just talk about what’s going on, we could find a way to save what we have.

I made it home, showered, and crawled into bed. I closed my eyes trying to let sleep consume me, but it wouldn’t come. I couldn’t stop thinking about Trip and me. Finally, after tossing and turning, I looked over at my clock. It was midnight. I sighed deeply, and something came over me at that moment. I needed to talk to Trip, and I couldn’t wait anymore. I grabbed my phone and dialed his number, but it went right to voicemail.

I knew he was probably still at the gym hanging out with his brother and their friends. Mimi was the only one of us that had a car; a Toyota Corolla that we call the “rolla.” She typically never drove it anywhere within the city, so the key was always in the house. I threw on a pair of sweats, grabbed my sweat jacket, and headed out.

The gym was nestled close to the airport off of I-95. As I pulled up, I still heard music blaring from the building. The gym was created out of an abandoned warehouse that Train found and decided to remodel once his brother started to really make headway in the MMA world.

I parked the rolla and headed into the gym, only to get my senses attacked. The first was the sound. The music was so loud; I couldn’t even hear myself think. People were everywhere, which was the reason why I wanted to poke my eyes out. Everywhere I looked, there were couples kissing and grinding on each other. The smell that invaded my nostrils told me that some people were doing a lot more than dry humping.

My spidey senses heightened even more as I walked more in the building. I prayed I wouldn’t find Trip here, but the more I walked through the building the better the chances were that I would. I went to the first closed door. When I opened it, I found one of Trip’s boys sitting in a chair with a girl riding him.

I closed the door and started walking quickly to find Trip. My heart started to beat faster as I opened every door I found. I let out a smooth breath when I didn’t find him anywhere. I did find his brother getting busy with someone, so maybe—just maybe—Trip wasn’t here.

But that hope was completely shattered when I heard a girl scream Trip’s name. I went back to the door where I saw Trip’s brother and completely opened it. And I was hit with a sight that shattered me completely. Train was sitting on the couch in front of me, with a girl’s head in his lap. His eyes were closed, which is why he didn’t see me come into the room. I turned to the right and found Trip standing against the wall, with someone kneeling in front of him sucking him off. He also had a girl straddling his chest, while he seemed to be finger fucking her.

I was completely disgusted and completely pissed off, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Since the music was blaring in this room too, they didn’t hear me open the door. But as I slammed the door and ran out of there, they definitely heard someone leave.

Before I got to the door of the car, I felt someone grab my arm. I turned expecting to see Trip, but instead it was Train.

“Get the fuck off me, Train,” I told him, eyes blaring rage.

He put his hands up and eyed me cautiously.

“Okay, Max. It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think? Train, are you kidding me? I just saw him up against the wall being fucked and fucking some skank whores. What part of that is incorrect?”

“Look, Max. You two have been going through some shit, okay? He says he thinks you’ve been cheating on him, and you didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore.

“I don’t give a shit what he thinks, Train. I’ve never been unfaithful to him, and you know it. That shit’s all in his head. All I’ve ever done was love him and be there for him, no matter what. My life revolves around him and school. I don’t go out with friends. I barely have time to myself. So don’t give me that shit!”

I know I was screaming at this point. I saw fear in Train’s eyes as he put his hands up in a calming motion.

“I know. Okay, just calm down.”

I started to feel my body began to shake uncontrollably as tears started falling from my eyes. I couldn’t control my breathing, and I started pacing.

But I did manage to calm my voice down to say to him, “I just saw my boyfriend in there being fucked by two women, Train.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Train and I looked behind him and found Trip stomping toward me. His face was red, and his fists were balled up.
Is he mad at me?
I asked myself, taken aback by his behavior. But I quickly dismissed that feeling and felt my anger rising even further at his audacity.

“Who are you talking to?”

I started in his direction, but Train moved faster and met his brother before I did.

“I’m talking to you. You giving my brother shit because you’re mad I’m here and not with you. You better check yourself.”

“Wait a minute, bro,” Train tried to say.

But I didn’t let him say anything else. I went into hyper drive.

“I better check myself? How about you check yourself? I can’t believe you, Trip. You and me; this thing we have is officially fucking over. Do you understand me? Lose my fucking number.”

“This shit ain’t over. You and I will never be over,” he yelled back at me, with his brother still holding him back.

“Ha…you keep thinking that,” I told him, and jumped back in the car.

My body was wracked with adrenaline and emotions. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I was both extremely angry and hurt. I was speeding. I knew I had to slow down, but I couldn’t. I can’t believe he had the balls to come at me like that, especially after what he was just doing. I mean the nerve of that son of a bitch.

My phone started ringing, and when I glanced at it I started to seethe. It was him calling me.

“Well, fuck you, buddy,” I said to no one in particular. I turned off my phone. Instead of going home, I made my way to The Bar.

I parked in the back and noticed Lou’s car. I looked at my watch and saw it was almost 1:30 a.m. The Bar typically closed at 3 a.m., so I had some time to at least get some alcohol in my system. I also needed to talk to Lou about continuing my internship. I used to work with Lou awhile back. I would help his therapist stretch and work out sore muscles of his fighters. It was hard for me, of course, because I was a girl. But the fighters respected Lou, and they learned rather quickly to leave me alone.

Lou and my grandfather were close, which is how he became like an uncle to me when I moved to permanently live with my grandparents. I grew up around fighters and learned what it took to take care of a fighter’s body. That was one of the things that drove me to nursing and eventually to become a doctor in Sports Medicine. It’s a passion of mine to keep these guys in boxing shape, so they could inflict pain on each other.

It took less than two minutes to ask Lou if I could finish my internship with him. He didn’t ask any questions. He just said, “Of course,” and that he’ll see me at the gym on Monday after class.

I hugged him quickly and made my way to the bar area to drown my sorrows before I went home. As I walked down a hallway from Lou’s office to the front of the bar, I heard someone playing a song that I knew quite well. When I cleared the hallway, I stopped and stared at the person playing. He was facing me but had his head down looking at the keys. His jaw was tight, and he seemed miles away even. But the way he played, and how relaxed he was, made me slightly weak. He wore a simple white t-shirt that didn’t hide the flexing of his muscles as he stroked the keys in front of him.

I smiled broadly and started singing softly. When I sang the first note, his eyes met mine.

“Turn down the lights. Turn down the bed. Turn down these voices inside my head. Lay down with me, tell me no lies. Just hold me close, don’t patronize me. Cos I can’t make you love me if you don’t. You can’t make my heart feel something that it won’t here in the dark these final hours. I will lay down my heart. Cos I feel the power. But you won’t, no you won’t. Cos I can’t make you love me when you don’t.”

As I started the second verse, his lips curled on the side of his cheek. His gaze on me was slightly unnerving, and I felt my heartbeat accelerate. But I couldn’t stop walking toward him. It was like my body craved being close to him. I wanted to feel more than his eyes on me. I wanted the feeling his closeness gave my body to consume every part of me.

The sexual tension between us was palpable, and I wondered if he felt it as much as I did. As I got closer to him, I could see it in his eyes that he indeed felt the same as me.

When he played the last key of the song, he smiled at me.

“You are amazing,” he said softly.

At the same time, I said equally as soft, “Whoa.”

His grin broadened, and I looked down shyly and said, “Thank you.”

I noticed his glass was empty in front of him, and I went behind the bar to get him and me a drink. I nodded at two of the bartenders I knew—Mike and Dennis—and then grabbed me a glass of Peach Ciroc and orange juice and the stash of Lou’s Scotch. Then I walked back over to where Mason waited. I poured him a fresh drink.

He nodded at the bottle, and said, “Seems I owe Lou a new bottle of Scotch.”

I shrugged and said, “I’m sure he won’t miss it.”

His eyes almost bulged out of his face.

“Darling, this bottle of Scotch is over $700. He’ll definitely miss it.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess he would. Well then, we’ll both owe him a bottle.”

He just smiled at me, and we clinked glasses.

“I thought you didn’t work today?” he asked me.

I leaned over the piano, and Mason rose and fetched a chair for me so I could sit next to him.

“You checking up on me?” I asked him.

His ass looks amazing in those jeans. I shook myself out of my trance, when he turned back around to face me.

He shrugged as I sat down.

“Sort of…I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

I nodded but quickly changed the subject. I really didn’t want to talk about Trip and me.

“So, what are you doing here? You have another not-so-hot date?”

Hell, I really didn’t want to talk about this either.

“No, not this time. I just have a lot of shit on my mind and didn’t want to be cooped up in my apartment. Besides, this is the only place I know of that carries good Scotch, so…”

I smirked, “Well, I would think you would be out celebrating your victory today. Congrats, by the way.”

We toasted again.

“Well, thank you kindly,” he said, thickening his southern drawl. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh no. I had nothing to do with that beating. I saw the fight, remember? I think you would have done okay without the information I gave you.”

He shrugged and said, “Well, I beg to differ. You saved me a lot of energy and excess time. Alex I’m sure would love to thank you, too.”

My face frowned, and he added, “Alex is the black guy that was with me. He’s my manager-slash-trainer-slash-pain-in-my-ass.”

I giggled and gulped the rest of my drink. As the liquor went to my head, I went to make myself another drink.

I called out, “Where do you know him from? I remember when I was younger, I saw that guy Alex around Lou’s gym. But I never saw you.”

He told me, “Alex and I were in the Navy together.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“Really? How long were you in the Navy?”

“Ten years.”

“Wow, ten years. That’s a long time.”

“Nah, not really. Most career military types stay in it longer than that. I overstayed my welcome, so I bowed out gracefully.”

“When did you get out?”

“Oh, about a month ago.”

I nodded.

“So you learned how to fight in the Navy?”

He laughed. Man, I love his laugh.

“No, I knew how to fight before I got in the Navy. Now don’t get me wrong; the Navy taught me a lot, and I was actually able to use my fighting skills while I was in the Navy. But they didn’t teach me how to fight. It’s more like they enhanced my existing skills.”

I frowned again.

“I thought the Navy guys mostly lived on a ship and flew fighter planes. Where did you get to fight anyone?”

He shook his head. He took the rest of his drink down and poured himself another.