Takedown (14 page)

W
aking
up in Luke’s arms was bittersweet heaven. Mitchell breathed in the musk and freshly shampooed scent of him. With his constant training and showers, Luke was always either sweaty or soapy. There was something intoxicating about that mix of scents.

He stretched, suddenly conscious of the time. He had to fly out at eleven, so by the time he factored in the time for his parents to drive him to the airport, he had to get up.

They were due to pick him up here at nine, by which time Luke had to be training and he had to be packed.

The thought of his parents even parked outside the gym made a shudder of dislike run down his spine. He didn’t want them sticking around here any longer than they had to.

Mitchell slipped quietly out of bed, taking a moment to admire Luke. The sheets were twisted around his waist. His tattooed chest rose and fell, and Mitchell admired the crisp black ink against pale skin and white sheets.

There was something unspeakably beautiful about the vulnerability of the fighter in deep sleep. He walked, spoke, watched people like a tiger in the daytime. He lost none of his grace at night, but the dangerous edge to him was softened. Even though they hadn’t had sex last night, just slipped into a quick, deep sleep together, Mitchell felt just as close to Luke.

Mitchell’s chest was warm as he gazed down at Luke for a few moments more before he forced himself to walk away, around the screen, to the kitchen.

Luke was sleeping in just a little today now that his training routine was shortened. All Mitchell understood was that he needed to cut weight and avoid building muscle.

But he could give Luke one good breakfast before he cut out everything.

After stepping back into yesterday’s clothes, Mitchell headed for the fridge and grabbed an egg carton. He started to crack eggs for scrambled eggs. He figured a couple for himself and a couple more than that for Luke would be a good start. When he checked out the fridge, he found half a pack of bacon, a loaf of bread, and there was juice.

Everything else wasn’t really breakfast food, so he went with it, cooking up the bacon first and then the scrambled eggs.

Luke emerged from behind the screen when the toast popped out. He wore a fresh pair of jeans with his belt, but he had left his shirt off. “Morning.” He was smiling. “You made breakfast? I should be making you breakfast.”

“Morning,” Mitchell chuckled. “No, I…” he trailed off, gesturing at the plates. “I wanted to, while I can.”

Luke’s face creased in sympathy. He walked around the kitchen island to catch Mitchell around the waist and kiss his forehead. Then Luke patted his ass and winked.

Mitchell laughed at Luke and grabbed plates, bringing them over to his small dining room table. “Cheeky.”

“When’s your flight?”

“My parents get here at nine.” Mitchell laughed when Luke made a face. “Yeah, I didn’t really want ’em giving me an airport ride either. But I dropped off the rental yesterday when I had that lawyer thing.”

God, the last few days had been filled with too many annoying little details and not enough of Luke’s hot body and beautiful eyes.

“Right, right.” Luke rubbed his chin, settling into the chair opposite Mitchell. “Extra egg whites?”

“I found the carton in the fridge, and…” Mitchell shrugged. “I was looking at your meal plan the other day.”

“Oooh.” Luke winked. “I hope you’re not a spy.”

“It’s right there on the office wall,” Mitchell defended himself, his cheeks hot.

“Mhmm.” Luke ate up with an appetite, so Mitchell dug into his breakfast too. Neither of them said much until they were done, pushing back their plates.

“Thank you,” Luke said, quietly. “Been a while since anyone cooked for me.”

Mitchell reached over the table to rest his hand on Luke’s. “Well, when you come visit me…”

“In New York?”

“Sure,” Mitchell smiled. “Why not? If not before the fight, after?”

Luke leaned back slightly. “Mmm. Hugh might kill me. I’ll have to talk to him.”

At the very most, they had to wait a week without seeing each other, then. Still, after two weeks of such close contact, of trying to avoid obviously staring at Luke working out and fighting and sliding by him in the hallway…

It was going to feel empty in his apartment, and Mitchell knew it.

He swallowed, then nodded. “Sure, that’s fair.” When Mitchell brought the dishes to the sink, Luke went to get a fresh shirt on, too.

Mitchell sighed and rubbed his face, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Gotta pack.”

“I’ll keep you company.”

Mitchell changed, and then packed quickly and silently. He hadn’t brought a whole lot with him for the trip, wearing the same few shirts over and over. He was glad for the laundry machine stuck in an awkward closet at the top of the stairs between the apartments’ bathrooms. Some apartments out here didn’t have laundry… and many in New York City, for that matter.

“Any plans when you get back?” Luke asked.

Mitchell grimaced. “Uh, gotta tour a place tonight, and do an open house tomorrow for it. Some cocktail thing the day after.”

“Busy schedule.”

“Always. I like having my days to myself out here,” Mitchell half-smiled.

Luke snorted. “Like the accountants and lawyers and business development people aren’t sucking away your time.”

Mitchell rolled his eyes. “Yeah, good point. But that’s just about done. He left all the really important stuff in surprisingly good order. Like he expected…” he trailed off. Luke watched him silently, and Mitchell shook his head. He didn’t want to finish that sentence

Mitchell went to the bathroom to put in his contacts and pack up his toiletries kit. When he came back out, Luke was at the window.

Instantly, Mitchell felt sick despite the good breakfast and the body memory of Luke curled around him last night. “They here?”

“Not yet,” Luke shook his head, letting the blind fall back into place. He waited for Mitchell to zip up his bag, then walked over and wrapped him in a tight hug.

Mitchell hugged him back. “You training at nine?”

“Yep.

They swayed on the spot when Luke rocked him slightly. He felt utterly safe having his weight shifted around in a gentle sway.

“Guess this is goodbye for now,” Mitchell murmured, raising his watch to check it over Luke’s shoulder. Yeah, his parents would be there any minute now.

Luke nodded, rubbing that broad palm up Mitchell’s back to cup the back of his neck. “I’ll try to get away and see you the night before the fight. Um, are you…?”

“Course I’m coming to watch,” Mitchell snorted. Hugh had pulled him aside and told him he got complimentary tickets. Even if he hadn’t, Mitchell would have found a way to get tickets.

He wasn’t missing this for the world.

Luke let out a breathy laugh of relief. “Thought you wouldn’t wanna.”

Mitchell pulled back from him and frowned. “Why not?”

“It being a blood sport,” Luke half-smiled. Though he was joking, Mitchell caught a flash of insecurity in his eyes. Was he really
that
worried about what Mitchell thought of it?

Mitchell cupped Luke’s cheeks as gently as he could and pressed a kiss to his lips. After a good ten, maybe twenty seconds, he pulled back again and waited for Luke to open his eyes, then murmured, “It’s different when it’s you. I’m coming.”

Luke’s smile back was sincere and radiant.

God, he was beautiful. How had Mitchell not noticed years ago? But they’d both been so different then. It felt like something had shifted into place this time around, and it had had to take time.

Mitchell kissed Luke a few more times, still swaying against his front and running his hands up those hard thighs and over his great ass, up his back, along his strong biceps, and sometimes just along his cropped hair.

Finally, they heard an engine outside in the parking lot that Mitchell knew wasn’t just any guy here to train. Luke leaned away and peeked out the window while Mitchell kept his arms around his waist. “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Mitchell’s stomach dropped as the ugly moment arrived. But he couldn’t dwell on it and distract Luke. He had to play it lightly. He let out his breath, then smiled. “Just a week.”

“Only a week,” Luke promised lowly. “And the night before the fight, we’ll see each other. And then afterward.”

“Of course,” Mitchell promised. He leaned in and pressed another hard kiss to Luke’s lips. Though only a few seconds passed, Luke drank him in and crushed him against his front as he pulled them close together.

Then, finally, Luke pulled back and offered a quiet smile. “C’mon, get downstairs, you.”

Mitchell cleared his throat and jerked his chin in a quick nod, grabbing his bag. He even had himself half-convinced that a week really wasn’t that long after all.

They walked together down the stairs. Just before they emerged onto the main gym floor, Mitchell paused and turned to Luke to give him the chance for one more goodbye kiss.

Luke pushed open the door for him instead, shadowing him out and down the hall.

Hugh was just coming out of the office, jerking his chin in greeting to them both. He didn’t seem the faintest bit surprised.

“Escaping for New York?” he asked, and Mitchell was grateful he didn’t add
again
.

“Yep.”

Hugh glanced at Luke. “We’ll miss you round here.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Mitchell promised, and he meant it. “For now… well, we went over all the new systems.”

“I’m sure I’ll understand them next time Luke explains.”

Mitchell burst out in a quick laugh, then glanced at Luke and the front door. “Gotta go, before they start honking. Or worse yet, come in.”

“Ugh, save us from them,” Hugh muttered almost too quietly to be heard.

This startled Mitchell into laughing, but he nodded when Hugh shot him a look to ask if that comment had been okay. He wasn’t fond of his own parents, after all. God knew how they treated Hugh and Luke these days—probably not well, if they wanted some asshole to buy the gym and kick them out.

“See you soon, kid,” Hugh nodded again, sensing that they needed a moment. He walked off toward the cage, calling out to address someone else.

Luke pressed his hand to Mitchell’s back to steer him down to the end of the hall. When Luke leaned in to press one more kiss against Mitchell’s lips, this time he didn’t let it linger.

Mitchell smiled and returned the peck to Luke’s lips, then let go of Luke’s waist. “See you around.”

“See you soon.”

The sun outside was blindingly bright. Mitchell shielded his eyes against it as he pushed his way through the steel door and it clanged shut behind him. He made his way to his mom’s idling Focus and opened the back door, sliding his luggage in first and then climbing in himself.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad. Thanks for picking me up.”

His dad just nodded in greeting.

“Good morning,” his mother greeted, pulling away from the curb. She looked back briefly at him, then in the rearview mirror. “Your flight’s at eleven? Hasn’t changed?”

“It is.” Mitchell grabbed his phone to check—and to send a quick text to Luke.

“Yeah, it is,” Mitchell concluded after he checked the website, settling back in his seat.

“We have something to discuss with you,” his father spoke up, his voice hard.

Mitchell’s stomach sank.
Oh, shit. The buyer.
“Ah. Yeah. Right.”

His mother looked at him in the rearview mirror again, her face taut. “We know what’s going on, and we’re not happy.”

Mitchell considered how to answer that one. He wasn’t sure
which
thing they were talking about, so he just frowned. “What?”

“Don’t play games,” his father grunted. “And of all the men? Really?”

Oh. It’s this discussion.
Mitchell’s stomach, which had been sinking with worry, now clenched tight as his muscles tensed. This was going to be a long damn ride to the airport.

“What about that?”

“We were worried you were going to get pulled in,” his mother scoffed. “And then you did. You arrived ready and willing to sell, and now all of a sudden you’re changing your whole life for the guy who messed up yours?”

“It’s not just—He didn’t screw up my life that badly.”

His father scoffed with disagreement. “You were heartbroken.”

“Only at the way everyone treated me, like they really thought I was the spawn of Satan suddenly. I never cheated on Emily, and I wouldn’t have.” Mitchell’s fury was a tense coil in his chest that he tried to contain. “Not with Luke, either.”

“I’m sure you know how it looks.”

Mitchell snorted. “Yeah. I know.”

They were all silent for a good few minutes, watching the surroundings change from industrial to commercial, then suburban. Then they were driving through the country on the way to the Lincoln airport. Mitchell was perfectly happy to let them stew in silence for a while.

“You’ve disappointed us,” his mother told him finally. “And we don’t appreciate your attitude.”

Mitchell folded his arms, feeling like he was back in high school. God, he would be glad to get on the plane once this goddamn drive was over. “About what?”

“The ungrateful way you acted when we introduced you to Sid. Humiliation, when he came to us and told us what happened. You let your…
thing
… chase him off.”

“My
thing
?”

“Your,” his father looked disgusted as he said it, “partner.”

Well, that’s that. They’re sure as fuck not changing.
Mitchell’s jaw twitched and he glanced out the window. He’d held out hope they were just blissfully ignorant or something, parroting what they’d heard. But this was willful, malicious ignorance.

He refused to answer, making them wait in silence without acknowledgment of that horrific bit of language. Minutes ticked by in silence less awkward than it was aggressive. None of them seemed willing to break it first.

“Getting tangled up with someone who breaks skulls for a living? That’s worse than we feared of you in New York,” his mother added. She was seemingly unwilling to let this go. She kept aggressively pursuing conversation even when Mitchell and his father both went silent. “What are you going to do when he gets booked for assault?”