Worth The Fight (Hard To Love Book 1) (9 page)

I pull my truck into my driveway and bang my head on the steering wheel a few times trying to knock some sense into myself.
What the fuck was I thinking going in there tonight?
I’d only wanted to talk to Bryce but when I saw him standing there with his tight body stretched to grab something from the locker, I couldn’t do anything to stop myself. I had a primal need to touch him and give him pleasure like he's never had before. I laugh to myself. Bryce is obviously gay, even though he’s never come out and said it to me, so I'm sure that what I just did wasn’t exactly as mind blowing as I think. The guy could stop traffic with his looks and body, I'm pretty sure there were a few broken hearts when he left England. No, what I just did to him was mind blowing for me, a life altering moment that means everything, but I'm sure it was just a normal Saturday night for Bryce. For some reason that thought makes me feel a little worthless, I want to be important to him, someone that he sees a future with.
Whoa, what the fuck am I talking about?
I think that I need to slow down and work out what this thing is between us.

I shuffle in my seat and remember that I still have a mess in my shorts I need to deal with. After making my way inside, I strip off the offending piece of clothing and throw it towards the hamper before getting under the hot water of my shower. I honestly cannot believe I came in my shorts, I’ve never done that before in my life. I had managed to hold myself together and not giving in to the pleasure of his ass against my cock. Rubbing against his ass felt amazing, it felt like something I’ve been missing my whole life. His muscles were firm and my cock fit perfectly between his ass cheeks. God, even the thought of it is getting me hard. I thought I was doing well controlling the urges until he shot his load into my hand. When I felt the warm liquid hit my palm I lost it and filled my shorts with my own mind-blowing orgasm. Groaning I hit my head on the tiles and let the water hit the back of my neck. I’ve no idea what I'm doing and I have no idea why it feels so good. I spent all day watching him, my eyes involuntarily finding him wherever he was. The memory of his mouth from the night before made sure I was hard for the whole fucking day. I cannot begin to explain how many times I wanted to go, pin him to a wall and taste him again. If some of the looks he had given me through the day where anything to go by, I think he was feeling the same way. I don’t know if it was the fact that he walked away the night before or the thrill of the unknown that had me going back to the gym tonight. I let myself in with my set of keys after sitting in the car park for nearly an hour waiting for everyone to leave, waiting for him to be alone so we could talk. I didn’t know what I was going to walk into, but I had to see him.

I turn off the shower and don’t even bother drying myself as I walk into my room and collapse onto my bed. I lie there, just staring at the ceiling, hoping that the answers to all my questions will suddenly appear. I list the questions that I need answers for in my head and try to rationalize the answers.
Am I attracted to Bryce?
I have never been more attracted to anyone in my life, which I’m still finding incredibly surprising.
Can I handle the fact I'm attracted to a man?
I don’t know, but I do know that I can’t handle walking away without seeing where this could go. And the last and probably the most important question:
am I gay or possibly bi?
I know the answer to that should be no, I had it drummed into me from a young age that wanting to be with a guy is wrong and that there is no way that I could be gay. Apparently my body didn’t get the memo though, and it’s finding its pleasure in the hard muscled body of Bryce. This leads to another important question,
am I attracted to men, or am I attracted to just Bryce?
This is a question I can answer easily and the answer makes me smile. It is one hundred percent Bryce.

I lift my body up and get under the sheet, suddenly needing sleep like I need my next fight. The last few days have been difficult and my mind has been constantly running at a hundred miles per hour making it nigh on impossible to sleep. Maybe now that I’ve made a decision now I will get some rest. I’ve made my decision? I must have decided at some point what I was going to do, I just hadn’t actually admitted it to myself. I take a deep breath and let the thought cross my mind, cementing it there so I know the truth clearly. I want Bryce Tanner and I will have him no matter what.

****

No son of mine is gay. There’s no way that’s gonna happen, I didn’t produce a faggot.

I bolt upright in bed with sweat dripping down my body. It’s been a long time since my dad’s invaded my dreams and I can say with great certainty that I haven’t missed him. I turn and put my feet on the floor, leaning my elbows on my knees and hold my head in my hands. Fuck, I hate it when I dream about him. He had made me feel so ashamed when I came to him for advice, and I can still feel it running through me now. I get up from my bed and grab a pair of running shorts. When the nightmares hit the best thing to do is to work out and hope that exhaustion will take the visions.

I look at the clock beside my bed and realize that I still have another couple of hours before I need to get up for training.
Fuck
. I scrub my hands over my face as my mind battles with all the thoughts running through it. I can’t help but hear my dad’s words repeat through my head, and I know I'm hearing them because of Bryce. I made decisions last night, one that will change everything, and I know that my mind must be freaking out. It’s like a battle is raging in my head, between my dad and Bryce. The man who shaped who I am today, and the man who could shape my future.

When the noise in my head becomes too much, I use my fist to hit the side of my head in an attempt to knock everything out. I'm sick of thinking, of constantly doubting what I feel and think, I just want it all to be quiet for a while. I pull on a wife beater and grab my sneakers as I rush out of the house. I need to run, to feel my feet hit the pavement as music drowns out the world. Before I leave the house I type out a text, sending it before I have time to think about it. I throw my phone onto the couch, grab my iPod and leave.

I check my watch again and see that Zeke is now nearly an hour late. I would be slightly worried in normal circumstances, but after what happened last night I'm even more worried. I seem to spend a lot of time worrying about what happened the day before with Zeke. I feel like I'm constantly trying to rationalise what’s between us to myself, and it’s driving me insane.

I walk over to Eddie’s office and pop my head through the door.

“You haven’t heard from Zeke today have you?” He looks up from the papers on his desk and shakes his head.

“I haven’t, son. Have you lost him already?” He laughs at his own comment and I force a smile to my face. There’s no way that Eddie can discover what’s happening, or not happening, between Zeke and me. I’m pretty sure I would be fired before I finished my explanation. Not that I could explain something I don’t understand myself.

“I don’t think so, but you never know with him. I think I need to get him a new alarm clock.” He points to the chair across the desk from him and I sigh inside, knowing there’s no way to say no to Eddie. I sit, trying to look as relaxed as possible.

“So how’s our boy doing?” The way he says ‘our boy’ has my heart beating a little faster. Little does he know how much I want him to be my boy. I came to the decision last night, after Zeke nearly caused me heart failure with only his hands, that I was willing to do whatever he wanted. If it meant letting him explore while he came to terms with it all, then I would swallow my pride for a while and let him have me. I haven’t felt a connection with anyone since Austin, and truthfully I didn’t think I ever would again, so now that the opportunity is there I don’t want to pass it up. I am pretty sure attraction like this doesn’t come around very often, and I’ve been so fucking lonely. It’s nice to have someone who wants me, someone that makes me feel again.

“He’s doing great. There have been a few moments where I thought I might be losing the fight with him but he realized that I actually know what I'm talking about. His strength is improving and his technique hasn’t suffered despite his injury.” Eddie nods his head and sits back in his chair. It’s hard to have a conversation with him, he’s the quiet type that doesn’t give much away.

“That’s good. Just thought I would check, you know, to make sure you were working well. Well I’ll let you go and find the runaway.” And with that he goes back to the papers on his desk, basically dismissing me.

I walk back to the changing rooms to grab my mobile phone to call Zeke and find out where he is. When I unlock it I see a text from him and relief flows through me. The relief is short lived when I open the message.

I won’t be in for a few days.

That’s it? Just a few words saying he won’t be in? What the fuck is that about?
I press his number and try to call him but it rings out before going to his answering service. I try a total of five times to get him to answer but my calls go to voicemail every time. I have a mixture of emotions running through me. There’s worry and sadness, but the most predominant one is anger. I didn’t ask him to touch me yesterday, that was all on him and now he runs? He is affecting his own chances of being ready for his life changing fight and he's acting like a dick, hiding out because he did something that he’s scared to admit. Does he really think that in a few days I will have forgotten about what happened? That I just need a little space to realize that he doesn’t want me and then he can come waltzing back in here like nothing happened? I was willing to be his experiment and let him use me to discover if this is something he wants, but there is no fucking way he’s going to treat me like shit. I will not be someone’s regret, no matter how hot they are. I press reply to his text but decide against it. There is no way this is going to be sorted out over a text message. I dress quickly before slamming my locker door, allowing my anger to come out in the movement. Thankfully I have his address in the file in my car. It’s time I visited Mr. Raine and sorted this out once and for al
l
.

I bang my hand on the door again. I don’t know if he’s out or just ignoring me, but I'm not going anywhere until I talk to him. I hear a noise from inside the house, so at least I know that he's in there, unless it’s someone else. The thought sends dread through my body, it’s not something I had considered when I drove over here. Maybe he has a woman in there, trying to get rid of the memory of me on his skin. I flush, suddenly embarrassed that I'm here causing problems.

I'm just about to turn and run back to my car when the door opens in front of me. Zeke stands there in shorts and a vest, his hair messed up like he’s been running his hands through it for hours and, against all self-preservation, I can’t help but look at him with lust flowing through me. My eyes make it to his legs before he speaks, quickly pulling my stare back to his face.

“Did you not get my text? I need a few days off.” He tries to close the door on me but I put my foot in between it and the doorframe, halting its movement.

“Yeah, I got your text. Did you not hear me calling?” I get a grunt of response but that’s not going to work with me now. I need to get a few things off my chest and there’s no better time than right now.

“Was that an actual answer, because I'm pretty sure all I heard was a grunt?” He doesn’t even respond as he turns and walks away, leaving the door open behind him. Apparently I'm meant to follow him, and if I wasn’t as determined to have this out with him, I would piss him off by leaving but I'm not sure that would piss him off today.

I walk into his house, following the noise he's making until I'm in the kitchen. I watch as he grabs a bottle of beer from the fridge and puts it on the table in front of the chair across from where he's sitting. He takes a swig from his own bottle and I really want to tell him he shouldn’t be drinking but I refrain. There are more important things to talk about at the moment. I sit across from him and take the bottle that’s obviously meant for me, deciding to have a drink to calm my racing nerves. It doesn’t bode well that he thinks we need alcohol to get through this conversation.

“So you want to tell me why you’re not at the gym? It doesn’t look like you’re missing a limb, and that’s pretty much the only excuse I’ll accept.” His eyes meet with mine as he takes another drink, his look is intense and filled with something I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Are you gay?” Okay, not where I thought this conversation was going, and really not an answer to what I was asking.

“I thought it was obvious but if you’re looking for confirmation then yes, Zeke, I'm gay.” He nods, finishes his bottle of beer and grabs another one from the fridge. Sitting again, he starts ripping the label from the bottle.

“I'm not gay.” I want to tell him that he felt pretty gay last night and that most straight men don’t give other men hand jobs, but I don’t think this is the time for that. Instead I sit quietly and let him lead the conversation.

“I thought I was once, when I was a teenager. I told my dad but it’s okay, he showed me the error of my ways.” He laughs but I can’t hear an ounce of humour in it. He looks so sad sitting there and it’s taking everything in me not to wrap my arms around him and tell him that everything is going to be fine, but I just sit here. I don’t know what demons he's battling but I need him to let me in so I know what I'm fighting against. He obviously has a past, and one that isn’t happy. I sit patiently and let him work out what’s going on in his head.

“How did you come out? How did your parents react?” My head is getting a bit confused with the sudden changes in subject, every time I think I know what the conversation is about he throws something else at me.

“Wow, well that was a few years ago now. It went well, I told them that I wasn’t attracted to women. They were very supportive, but maybe I was lucky because I have a big brother and sister who are both straight, so they know they’re gonna get grandkids from them.” I smile when I remember my mum crying, telling me that I was always special so she should have known I would be different. My dad was a bit shocked I think by the fact I was so into what he considered masculine pastimes. He has preconceived ideas about gay men, and my love of fighting and cars didn’t fit with what he thought he knew. He supported me the whole way though, he never thought any less of me or was embarrassed by my life.

“It must have been nice, having all that love and support around you.” He finishes another bottle of beer and stands. Walking to a cupboard, he pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels. He grabs two shot glasses before sitting down at the table again. I watch as he fills the glasses before pushing one in my direction. I don’t drink the one in front of me, I just watch him as he downs his. He starts to speak as he refills his glass.

“I was nearly fifteen when I told my dad that I had feelings for guys. That the girls I knew didn’t get me excited but seeing the guys in shower after gym made me hard. Fuck, you would have thought I told him I wanted to murder babies the way he exploded. He told me that no son of his was a faggot, that I just needed to be with a girl and get over my crazy thoughts.” He downs the drink and fills the glass again, I want to take it away from him but at least it’s getting him to talk. I can’t believe that his own dad treated him like that, especially when he had been brave enough to speak out.

“What happened after that?” I want him to get this out, maybe it will help him process what he's feeling.

“Life changed after that, like, seriously changed. I’d had a great life before that, but speaking those simple words made things quickly go to hell. That’s how I got into fighting. My dad thought it was important that I had ‘manly’ pursuits, that maybe if I acted more like a man I would become one. I had to learn fast how to protect myself because my dad soon started to organize fights for me, most of them against his friends. For the first few months I was in constant pain, I had broken ribs, bruises and my face was always a mass of cuts. I was a quick learner though, and it wasn’t long until I was kicking their asses and enjoying it.” I stare at him in horror. He's talking as though all this is normal, that fighting against grown men is the usual way to start your fighting career. But that wasn’t even his dad’s plan, who was pretty much trying to beat the gay out of him.

“Oh, don’t look like that. He was making a man out of me, and look at me now. There isn’t a man out there that can beat me in the ring.” I see him clench his hand, before downing his drink. I can tell him being beat in the championship is still eating at him, still making him angrier than it should. “Dwayne never would have beat me if Ethan hadn’t fucked everything up. It was all his fault, he knew I needed the right equipment to win the fight. I could put that motherfucker a grave.” I make a mental note to work on the fact that he's blaming someone else for him losing the fight. He needs to be able to alter his technique when something goes wrong, to dig deep and use all his skill. To be the best and to win at all costs. This is where Ethan was actually at fault with his training. He spent too much time worrying about Zeke’s strength and brute force instead of his actual technique.

The silence is broken by Zeke, but when it is I wish he’d stayed quiet. His voice is lightly slurred now as the alcohol starts to have an affect on him.

“I remember the day that my dad proved I wasn’t gay. That’s an experience I’ll never forget. He got one of his female friends to show me what it was like to be with a woman, and hey, I got hard so it must have proved I wasn’t gay. Fuck it was
horrible.
I just lay there while she used my body. And afterwards my dad patted me on the back and told me that he knew I liked women.” He doesn’t even fill his glass this time and drinks straight from the bottle. I listen in absolute horror as he speaks. I grab the shot glass and down the contents, needing something to ease the shock.

“She raped you.” The words come out on barely a whisper but I know he hears me when his head turns sharply towards me.

“She didn’t rape me. Didn’t you hear me? I got hard so I obviously wanted it.” The words he says are full of anger but I know this isn’t Zeke speaking, he's repeating the words that he's listened to all his life. I want to make him see sense but I know with the alcohol in his system this isn’t the time to make an issue of it. Hopefully we can return to this conversation in the future when he's sober, I need him to see that he wasn’t the one who was wrong. He was treated badly by the people who should have protected him, and I need him to see this, I need his demons to stop having control over him.

“Then we need to disagree about that, Zeke. Because I think she took advantage of a very young and confused boy.” He huffs before taking another drink. He puts the bottle down and I reach over the table, grab the bottle and hide it under my chair. He glares at me but he doesn’t say anything. I stare into his eyes, watching as the mask of anger slips, showing me the pain that he usually keeps hidden. He looks lost, like the teenage boy I image he was, just looking for someone to love him, someone to accept him for who he is. I can feel tears burn my eyes as I watch him, desperate to reach out and touch him but I don’t think he would want that. He would think I thought he was weak, when I think he might just be the strongest person I've ever met.

“Want to tell me why you weren’t in today?” I want to change the subject to something safer. I think he needs a break from his pain and I'm hoping this will help.

“I'm so fucking tired, Bryce. I'm sick of being confused about everything. Just when I think I know what I want, my mind screws me over again.” I hate that I've come into his life and caused all this shit for him. I swear I'm thinking I should walk away and leave him in the capable hands of Eddie.

“Would it be easier if I left? I'm sure Eddie can get you another coach, one that suits you better.” He looks at me with panic in his eyes.

“Please don’t go.” His voice is soft and full of emotion. I feel my throat thicken with my need to cry. I never imagined that under Zeke’s tough exterior there would be such a damaged man, it’s like he's never had anyone that accepted him for who he is. I swallow, trying to clear my throat before I speak.

“I don’t want to hurt you any more.” He puts his hands on the flat surface of the table and slowly moves them towards my clenched ones.

“It’s not you that’s hurting me. I just need some time to work out … shit, I don’t know, but please don’t go.” He looks pleadingly at me and I move my hands closer, being careful not to touch his. He needs to make the final move himself and close the distance between us if that’s what he wants.

“Are you sure? I’ve been in your life for less than a week and look at all the shit I'm causing.” His hand touches mine and he entwines our fingers together.

“I'm sure. It’s been a long time since I felt anything and, Bryce, you make me feel.” I tighten my hold on his hand, not wanting to ever let him go.