Best Friend's Brother #4 (Best Friend's Brother Romance Series - Book #4) (5 page)

“Hey Kristie,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“I think I owe you a really big apology.”

“For what?”

“All of this back and forth stuff. It’s not fair. I
tell you we’re over and I tell you to leave me alone and then I call you and
tell you to come over. It has to be confusing. I’m sorry.”

She looked surprised and it made me feel even worse
to think my apology would shock her.

“It is confusing,” she said. “But it’s okay. I know
you’ve been through so much and I understand that you’re confused yourself.
You’re spending time with that…the redhead. She was a friend of Emma’s right?”

“Yeah. Her name is Alexa.”

“I’m sure it makes you feel closer to Emma to be
with one of her friends…but when you have that out of your system, I want you
to know that I’ll still be here for you.”

“Being with Alexa started out about Emma,” I told
her, “but since I’m telling you the truth here, I have to tell you that it’s
not about Emma anymore. I really like her…”

“Then why isn’t she here with you? Why did you text
me?”

“Honestly?
Because I’m an ass. I keep telling you that we’re over and then I get upset or
lonely and I text you back. It’s wrong of me.” I set the water down and stood
up. “I’m sorry, Kristie. My head has been so screwed up. The truth is that we
both know this is not going anywhere, and I need to stop doing this to you…and
to myself.”

She stayed where she was on the couch.

 
Looking up at
me, she said, “Seriously? You’re kicking me out, again?”

“This was just a bad idea and I’m really sorry. My
head has been really screwed up lately and I don’t have any right to do this to
you…”

She stood up then and pressed her lips to mine. It
felt foreign to be kissing her, and wrong. It wasn’t only because I wanted
Alexa so badly…it was because I knew if I kissed her back…if I had sex with
her, I’d be using her. I also know that I’d be perpetuating her obsession. I
needed to put a stop to this, once and for all. I took her arms and gently held
her back.

“Kristie, you need to go, okay? We just need to make
a clean break here. I won’t do this to you again.” She tried to come towards me
again. She had a hell of a time with being rejected. I held her back and used
my hold on her to point her towards the door. Then out of guilt, I apologized
again and said, “One of these days, you’ll find someone that makes you happy.
But not if you keep hanging around waiting for things to work out with me.” She
didn’t say anything. She just looked at me with hurt in her eyes and left. It
was the second
time in two days that I’d made a woman feel
like shit. I was on a roll.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

ALEXA

The next day I went online and did a little job
searching. I filled out a few applications, but my heart wasn’t really into it.
I kept checking my phone every five minutes to see if I’d missed a call or a
text. By that evening I still hadn’t heard from Ian. Dad got home when I was
getting ready for the fight. I lied and told him I was going to meet Heather. I
wasn’t in the habit of lying to my father, really. But until I knew where Ian
and I stood, I didn’t want to talk to him and let his opinions…all negative,
I’m sure, seep into my brain and influence my decisions.

I went to the fight and sat in my seat again near
the back and waited. I had that tickle in my belly that I always got when I
knew I was going to see him. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it if this
thing between us was really over. I’d gotten even more attached than I had let
myself admit. I even really liked this fight stuff, which was weird. I’d
started using fight terms as analogies. For example, when he walked away from
me yesterday, I felt like he had punched me in the gut.

I heard the crowd roar and everyone got to their
feet as Ian made his way down the aisle. I stood up too, feeling the
butterflies in my stomach take flight at the sight of him. People were chanting
his name over and over. He looked almost oblivious to it and sadly, it reminded
me again of yesterday and how oblivious he had been to my pleas.

My heart was beating hard like it always did when he
took his place in the octagon. It was a mixture of fear of him getting hurt and
excitement at watching him win. Even from back as far as I was sitting, the
determination on his face was apparent. His name was still rolling off the
announcer’s tongue as he turned and raised his hand in the air towards the
crowd. He was confident and I thought that was so sexy. I could see the way he
was focused on only the fight in the set of his jaw and I watched as he closed
his eyes, took a deep breath and then open them at the sound of the bell.

Ian and his opponent, a guy named
Bustin
’ Billy, came to the center of the ring. The referee
did his talk and they hit fists and separated…until the bell rang. As Ian came
out towards Billy, I couldn’t help but look at his chiseled abs and chest and
remember the last time I got to trace the muscles with my hands. I wanted to do
it again…right now. The two men were circling each other, fists up…Ian’s eyes
looked like a predator’s and I thought if I was Billy, I’d be very afraid.

Ian struck suddenly without warning, his fist
connecting against Billy’s midriff. His punches were solid and quick and in
rapid succession. Billy’s fist came up after the third punch and headed for the
side of Ian’s face, but Ian moved in time for it to fly right by and returned
almost immediately with a right to Billy’s stomach that doubled him over. A
left hook while he was bent in half sent him sprawling onto the canvas floor.

Billy rolled away as Ian pounced and they wrestled
around on the floor for a while, both men failing to get the upper hand. When
the buzzer rang the referee had to urge them apart. It was the first one of
Ian’s fights I’d ever watched where it seemed like there was something personal
between him his opponent.

Ian’s trainer was on one knee talking to him
furiously. Whatever he was saying, it didn’t look like Ian was listening. He
looked like he just couldn’t wait for the bell to ring again. When it did he
jogged out, right into Billy’s fist. His head flew back, but before Billy could
even get off another swing Ian threw out a jab that landed hard on Billy’s
chin. When his head was back, Ian went for his ribs
.
 
He landed one hard punch to Billy’s
side before the other man managed to get away. Ian tried to land a roundhouse
kick next, but Billy spun back and threw his massive arm out and connected with
Ian’s legs, knocking him down. Ian went down hard on his back and Billy jumped
on him, trying to pin him. Ian was able to bring his legs up and get ahold of
Billy in a scissor hold and flip him off. Billy was quick; I had to give him
that. He scrambled to his feet before Ian got up and he was ready for a
thunderous right cross that landed on the side of Ian’s face. Ian barely
flinched and came back at him with a series of punches and jabs, not stopping
until he had him backed against the mesh and the buzzer sounded for the end of
round two.

 
I watched as
his trainer put a towel across Ian’s shoulders and handed him his drink. Ian
squeezed whatever it was into his mouth and the trainer started talking again.
Once again, Ian seemed to be ignoring him. I felt better…maybe it wasn’t just
me.

 
Ian came out
on the third round looking like he just wanted to finish this. Billy threw a
jab at him and he dodged it, coming back with a thunderous hook into his
opponent’s midriff. Billy’s grunt was audible but he didn’t go down. He tried
getting off his own hook but before he did, Ian snapped back with a jab that
landed directly in the center of his face and an immediate
uppercut
which
did knock him to the floor on his back. Ian waited and as soon as
Billy rolled over to try and push
himself
up, he
pounced down on him and wrapped his arm around Billy’s neck. He pulled up and
Billy struggled with him for almost a full minute before he had to concede
defeat. He raised his hand and let it drop, twice. Ian got up and stood there,
breathing hard and waiting. The referee checked on Billy and then let his
trainer help him get up and go back to his side of the cage before turning to
Ian and holding up his arm. He won. Again.
I was impressed as
usual and full of adrenaline myself
and selfishly happy because I
thought that would also mean he would be in a good mood and he would talk to
me. I was wrong.

I got up before he started down the aisle and I
waited near the door he always disappears through in the back. He was smiling
as he came out of the octagon and on the way down the aisle, he even high-fived
a few guys and signed an autograph…and then he saw me and he stopped. I mean,
literally stopped…dead in his tracks. People started crowding around him and I
think he realized that he couldn’t just stand there so he came my way again and
when he got there, he reached for the door…like he was just going to walk right
past me.

“Ian…”

“What are you doing here, Alexa?” It was a knife
straight through the heart.

“I came to watch you fight. I’d really like to talk
to you too.”

“I have an interview after this. I need to hit the
shower. I don’t have time for this Alexa.”

“Make time,” I told him, getting pissed off now. “I’m
not leaving until you agree to talk to me.”

“Shit! I really don’t have time for this.” That
seemed to be the theme lately.

“Really? Because I get the feeling that you just
want me to disappear so you don’t have to break up with me to my face. It’s not
going to happen. If you don’t want to see me anymore then man up and tell me.”

He sighed. “That’s not it, Alexa…”

“Then what is it?”

“Ian!” His trainer was calling to him.

“I need to go. Meet me at
Fatte
Albert’s tomorrow at noon. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay, I’ll be there…but make sure that you are
too,” I told him.
Fatte
Albert’s was a pizza parlor
near his apartment.

“I will,” he said. He gave me a sad look and then
jogged off to meet his trainer. I would have liked to talk tonight and get it
over with, so I could stop obsessing and get to sleep. But, it was more than I
had to start with, so I was happy.
 

CHAPTER
EIGHT

IAN

I’m not sure what the sound was that startled me
awake, but I was thankful for it. I was having a nightmare…again. Since Emma
died, I had them almost every night. I only remembered parts of them, but they
were all about my sister being dead, and sometimes in the dream I was there
with her…dead too. I woke up hot, with my body bathed in a cold sweat. The
sheets would be soaked with it and twisted up like restraints around my arms
and legs. My heart hammered like a rabbit’s against my rib cage and I would
have to sit there and tell myself that it was dark because it was night and the
shades were closed…not because I was dead and in a box in the ground. And then
I would remember that Emma was. Some nights, like tonight, I’d have to get out
of bed and empty my stomach into the toilet after that realization. When I
finished doing that, I just let myself slide down onto the cold linoleum floor
and I sat there and wondered when this would ever get better. When was I ever
going to be free of this cloying grief that came out of nowhere and attached
itself around my neck like a weight, dragging me down…pulling me into the deep
end of the ocean…?

I sat there until my heart calmed down and the
nausea passed and then I went into the kitchen for a bottle of water. The clock
on the stove said five a.m. I probably wasn’t going to get any more sleep this
morning because the first thought I had when I looked at that clock was, “Seven
hours until I see Alexa.” Now that I was awake and I’d left the nightmare in
the dark…I would spend the daylight hours obsessing over a woman I’d promised
to leave alone. In my defense…I was trying. She was the one that wouldn’t let
it go. She wasn’t going to let me just walk away. I was upset about that to a
point, but in a way, I was glad she cared that much.

I nursed the water for a long time, not wanting to
throw my stomach back into an upheaval and then I changed my clothes and went
for a run. I was hoping the cool air would clear my head, but with each pound of
my foot against the pavement I thought of a new reason why meeting Alexa face
to face was a bad idea.

When I got home, I showered and went to the gym
again. I was beating myself up, exercising way too much and eating way too
little. But, it was the only thing that kept the thoughts in my head from
driving me crazy…even a little bit. I had no idea how to look Alexa in the eye
and lie to tell her that I didn’t want to see her any longer, because the truth
was, I wanted her more than ever. While I ran, I thought about it and while I
worked out, I thought about it again. I didn’t come to any conclusions. I
wondered if I should just be honest with her and tell her that her father
pointed out that I was hurting her. Maybe he had it all wrong and she’d tell me
that and we’d move on from there…somehow I doubted it would be that easy.