The Fighter (The High Rise, Book 1) (12 page)

And then I’m
not.

I’m breathing
heavily as I look up at him. He’s pulled away and is looking down
at me as if he’s trying to make a decision, his breath coming hard
also. And, God, he looks good, the bruising underneath his eye and
the cut on his lip making him look so badass.

“So goddamned
beautiful,” he says quietly, touching his lips to mine before
burying his face in my hair at the side of my neck, breathing in
deep. Suddenly a groan rumbles from deep inside his chest and he
draws his head back again, his eyes piercing mine. I see the
muscles in his jaws ticking then he lets out a breath before
uttering, “Do
not
think that what I do next means I don’t
want to fuck you so hard my name becomes a fucking prayer on your
lips.”

He gives me a
contrite look and the next thing I know he’s standing by the couch
looking down at me.

“G’night,
Laney.”

And then he’s
gone
.

Ten

“What the fuck are you
doing?” I ask myself as I walk down the hall to my
apartment
.

I don’t know
if I’m questioning myself for leaving a hot, gorgeous ready and
willing woman on the sofa or if I’m asking why I went there with
her to begin with.

“Motherfucker,” I mumble as I unlock my door.

But let me
just say, leaving Laney on that couch was one of the hardest things
I’ve ever done. In my defense, I
am
somewhat inebriated and
didn’t think it was the greatest idea to sleep with her tonight
because of that very reason.

After we left
the fights and hit the bar, Matt and I celebrated our victories
pretty zealously. Enough so that we had to call for a ride and he
left his car at the bar. So I knew I was fairly loaded when I saw
Laney at the elevator and all I’d meant to do was to give her a
hard time, not have her get me fucking hard.

Jesus.

But the way
she acted when she saw my eye and lip, well, come on. What guy’s
going to turn down getting attention from a gorgeous woman?
Certainly not me. Until I found myself in an awkward position and
knew I needed to get the hell out of there because when I fuck her,
and I do plan on fucking her, I intend on being stone-cold
sober.

Since meeting
her, I’ve had a private investigator friend do a background check
on her and so far he’s come up with nothing, so I’m
ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure she’s not involved with the
shit her family’s doing on the side; therefore, as far as I’m
concerned, I’m going to pursue her.

Now, am I
talking anything permanent with her? Hell no. Because believe me,
when a man wants to fuck a woman for the first time, we’re not
thinking any further than the basics. I’ll spare you the
details.

And I want to
fuck Laney.

So for this
reason, wanting a relationship with her is not even on the
menu.

But the more I
think about it, if something long-term were to come out of it, I
wouldn’t be opposed.

I shake my
head at myself as I go to my bedroom because once again, thinking
about her has me tangled in knots.

In the
bathroom I check out the damage to my face. I didn’t get a good
look at it in the bar when I went to take a piss because the
lighting was low but now I see it’s not too bad. There’s some
bruising under my eye and the split in my lip looks to be healing
okay so I should be good to go for next weekend’s fight.

In the shower,
I jerk off, once again using visions of Laney as fodder for my
overactive libido, coming hard at thoughts of her on her knees in
front of me as I pound inside her from behind.

“Fuck,” I
mutter, breathing hard, leaning into my hand against the tile.

Damn. This
woman’s going to kill me and I haven’t even laid my hands on her
yet.

Once out of
the shower, I dry off then wrap the towel around my waist. After
brushing my teeth, I go into my bedroom, throwing the towel at the
hamper where it misses but whatever, and get into bed where I’m out
like a light.

The next
morning I’m up at eight, putting running pants on over my shorts
and pulling a long-sleeved t-shirt on since it’s still a bit chilly
in the mornings. I munch on a protein bar as I stretch in my living
room before taking the elevator down. Once out of the apartment
complex, I take off on my usual Sunday run over to the Pan Pacific
park loop, making it around it four and a half times to get in
roughly a three-mile run. It’s a good path, a little hilly in
places which I like, and it helps me get some cardio in.

When I’m
finished I sprint back to the apartment building, slowing down
about a hundred yards away to cool off noticing I’m getting a few
looks from people probably because of my eye. Oh, well. Inside the
lobby, I go to the front desk where Janet’s working and has been
keeping my sports drink in the mini fridge behind it along with a
towel I’d thrown back there before taking off.

“How was your
Sunday in the park?” she asks handing me my towel and setting my
drink on the desk.

She’s a
retired corrections officer who worked at the women’s prison in
Chowchilla for twenty-five years. She’s a tough old bird but just
as sweet as they come.

I wipe my face
then put the towel around the back of my neck before grabbing my
drink and downing half of it before answering. “It was great.
Weather’s good. Not many walkers to go around.”

“Good. George
said we’re supposed to have a bit of a cold front come through this
week but then spring will finally be here.”

George is her
husband who’s a retired police officer. They lived in Fresno for
thirty-three years before moving back to El Segundo (which is where
they both grew up and my hometown also) when they both retired.
George is now a security guard for an office building here in L.A.
but has become quite the garden aficionado, which I can attest to
because Janet’s shown me pictures.

“Good. I’ve
got a building going up on the south side so we could use the nice
weather,” I remark, taking another drink then wipe my face with the
end of the towel.

“So, you gonna
tell me about that black eye?” she asks suspiciously.

“Fell down
some stairs,” I retort, not wanting to get into it with her.

Being retired
law enforcement she sees right through my bullshit. “I hope the
other guy looks worse.”

I wink at her
and state, “He does. ‘Kay, gonna go shower then go to lunch at my
brother’s.”

“That’ll be
nice.” The phone rings and she waves at me before answering.

I finish my
drink as I wait for the elevator, walking over to put the bottle in
the recycle bin. When I turn to go back, the doors open and a
couple gets off and right behind them is Laney and she looks
amazing. Charcoal gray suit jacket over a silky, white, low-necked
blouse, one of those tight skirts like the one she had on at the
market that matches the jacket and black heels with ankle
straps.

Fuck. Me.

Seeing her has
stopped me where I stand and all I can do is stare. She’s on her
phone and doesn’t see me at first, her red lips smiling at
something the caller is saying. But the second she notices me, she
halts for a moment too, her eyes getting big, those gorgeous lips
parting and her face flushing before she composes herself and
starts walking again, now saying something into the phone. As she
passes by she quirks an eyebrow, giving me a sexy up and down with
a little twist of her mouth and I turn to watch her go out the
front doors and get into a waiting car.

Jesus.

Guess I know
what I’ll be doing in the shower when I get upstairs.

“Gonna start
referring to the fucker as my girlfriend if this shit keeps up,” I
mutter getting in the elevator and pushing seventeen.

“Fuck, bro. I
hope you put the hurt on the bastard,” Aaron says with a chuckle,
using a cane to walk to me when I come in. He’s two years younger
than I am and because of his injuries is walking like he’s
eighty.

We do a guy
hug and I find myself getting pissed all over again at the Kyles
which means I have to try to separate Laney from them keeping
myself from being angry at her.

Damn it.

“How’re you
feeling?” I ask following him into the living room of the small
cottage-style house they rent in Palms.

He sits down
in the recliner carefully. “I’m good. Getting better every
day.”

“Yeah?”

He nods just
as Kamryn comes in from the kitchen and says, “Hey, Heath,” giving
me a hug which I return.

“Hey, Kam,” I
answer looking down at her.

When she steps
back, she instantly cups her hands over mouth at seeing my face.
“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out.

“You’re fine.
I’m okay,” I offer. That’s all I can give her for now because I’m
still angry at the entire situation.

There’s an
uncomfortable silence in the room before her hands drop and she
declares, “I’m gonna make this right. I got a job at an accounting
firm in Glendale and they’re paying my tuition at Cal State to
finish my degree. I’m gonna pay you back.”

That’s a start
for her getting back into my good graces. Not because of the money,
because I won’t take it, but for the fact that she’s willing to fix
the mess she’s gotten everyone into.

I nod and
Aaron says, “Have a seat, Heath.” He looks at Kam. “Baby, could you
bring us a couple beers?”

“Of course,”
she states, hurrying back to the kitchen.

“She’s trying,
Heath,” Aaron states.

I shrug. “I
know. We’re good.”

He nods and
Kam brings our beers to us. “Thanks, babe,” he says and she bends
to kiss him before going back to the kitchen. Now he looks at me.
“So tell me about the fight.”

I explain all
the ins and outs of what went on and he’s loving it, his eyes
glittering with curiosity with each question he asks, picturing
everything I’m telling him.

I’ve just
started telling him about Matt when Isabelle starts fussing from
her room and Kam walks through to check on her. A few minutes
later, she comes back in holding my niece.

“There’s your
Uncle Heath. You wanna go see him?” she asks the three month old
then hands her to me.

I’ve not held
a lot of babies. Actually, Isabelle’s the only baby I’ve ever held
and every time I have, I’m scared to death I’ll break her. I cradle
my arms and Kam places her in them then I look down at her reaching
a finger out to touch her tiny nose. Before I can pull it back, she
reaches out and wraps her baby hand around it looking up at me as
we share a little niece-uncle moment.

“Hey,” I say
and then she yawns. Huh. Most women are a little less bored when I
talk to them. She next opens her eyes, looks at me and smiles.
“She’s smiling at me!” I share, looking up at Kam, amazed that this
little person has given me her approval.