Blame It on the Shame (Blame It on the Shame: Lou-Lou and Ricardo's Story #1) (15 page)

“I don't have a problem with you,” I tell him. “I just don't want you dating her.”

“Why?”

“I—” I stall.

He points two fingers at his face. “Look me in the
eyes
and tell me you're into her and I promise I'll back the fuck off.”

“I'm into her,” I mumble.

He shakes his head. “No brother, you're not. Which means you're lying to me about something.”

“I have my reasons, Tyrone. You just have to trust me.”

He hikes his gym bag up his shoulder. “You have to earn that trust first.”

And with that, he slams the door.

“Dammit,” I say under my breath.

Jackson tilts his head in the direction of the door. “You have a
good
reason for not wanting him with her?”

“I wouldn't be acting like this otherwise.”

“Fair enough.” He pulls a sweatshirt over his head. “Okay, I'm gonna help you.”

I grab a water bottle from the fridge. “How?”

“I'm gonna make an appearance and crash their date tonight.”

Before I can inquire about it further he says, “You see, what Tyrone
doesn't
know is that she's been hitting on
me
this entire week, too.”

“She has?”

This is
definitely
news to me. Doesn't she know she's playing with fire?

“Oh, yeah. Just yesterday she trapped me in the locker room at the gym and propositioned me.”

At the gym? Where the hell was I?
Why
am I only hearing about this now?

I want to ask
all
those questions but for some reason the
only
one I manage to bark out is, “So you had sex with her?”

The thing is, Jackson's not as celibate as he pretends to be. He's just
very
secretive about his sex life.

He doesn't know it, but I know about his trips to the bdsm club that he frequents on occasion.

I know about it because I've caught him walking out of there a few times.

Mere minutes after I
myself
walked out those doors.

I don't go there often—even less than he does because I had Scarlet and a few others on rotation to help scratch the itch.

But I can't focus on that because all I can think about is him fucking Lou-Lou.

I'm seeing red for some reason I fail to comprehend but he looks at me and laughs. “Don't get me wrong, she's pretty and all but I'm not looking for a relationship
or
a fuck buddy. I don't do either of those. Especially with a girl like
that
.”

He looks down. “Personally, I'd never want to be with a girl who causes me and my friends to fight over her. I don't think any girl's worth risking my friendship with you guys...and the one who is
wouldn't
put me in that position.”

I stay silent because something in his statement causes the wheels in my head to start spinning.

He looks over his shoulder before walking out the door. “Okay, I guess I'll meet you at the gym.”

“Son of a bitch,” I grunt while snatching my gym bag off the counter.

I think I just figured out
exactly
what Lou-Lou's doing here after all.

The uppercut to Tyrone's face is so hard his mouthpiece falls out.

I snicker and issue another one quick as lightning.

“Come on, Hulk. Keep up,” I taunt when his head snaps to the side. “Either learn to suck it up and take the punch...or learn to sense me coming and deflect, my man.”

I'm giving him shit right now, but in reality, Tyrone's one hell of a competitor. He really excels in the cage but he's not too shabby in the ring, either.

If I'm being honest, he's one of the best fighters I've ever seen or fought.

He would have made it to the top in mixed martial arts had he not been royally screwed.

Him and Jackson.

“Well stop going all
Muhammad Ali
and throw in some
Mister Miyagi
,” he says before I jab him again.

“As you wish.” He doesn't even have time to register the axe kick I send his way.

Boxers aren't usually known for their footwork but he and Jackson both forget that although boxing is my first love, I've studied MMA intently.

He goes flying into the ropes. “The only reason you're so good is because you're
older
...you've had more years of practice.”

I put a hand on his shoulder and hear Jackson laughing on the sidelines. “Toughen up, sport. Always prepare for the unexpected.”

He grunts and the murmurings around the gym come to an abrupt halt.

Jackson turns his head and I see his eyes blaze briefly before he looks down at the ground and mutters something under his breath.

I'm even more confused when I hear a few guys let out some whistles and cat calls.

When Tyrone's mouth drops open and he utters a “Hot
damn
.” I finally decide to turn my head to see what all the fuss is about.

The tiny hairs on my neck stand up, my heart feels like it's going to explode out of my goddamn chest and I'm pretty sure I'm breathing harder than a sumo wrestler running on a treadmill.

Lou-Lou's standing there in nothing but two scraps of red shiny material.

In other words, her ring girl outfit.

The same one she'll be wearing tomorrow night...in front of hundreds of men.

The halter bra top she's wearing draws attention to her chest and practically pushes her breasts all the way up to her neck.

And while she's not exactly well-endowed, her tits are shapely and perky as fuck.

The sparkle from her bellybutton piercing snags my attention and I drop my gaze to her waist. She isn't voluptuous by any means, given she's so slim...but her tiny curves aren't anything short of alluring.

Then I notice the shorts she's wearing...
if
you can even call them that.

They fit snug around her little hips and showcase a pair of well-toned thighs and
fuck me
because I can't help from wondering what her backside looks like now.

All women are beautiful, I'll never deny that.

That said, everyone has their type...specific features and traits you find yourself automatically attracted to.

On paper...Lou-Lou has none of the traits I've found myself attracted to in the past.

She's not voluptuous or particularly curvy. She's not sporting a D-cup and she's certainly not tall...
or
a redhead.

Add that to the other strike against her due to her having the
worst
personality of any woman I've ever met—and she is in
no
way, shape, or form 'my type.'

She couldn't be further from it.

But right now? I'd swear in a courtroom on a stack of bibles that I've
never
seen a woman so breathtaking in all my 31 years on the planet.

I'm so captivated I don't even have time to deflect the fist that launches straight into my ribcage, knocking the wind out of me.

I stagger back against the ropes and Tyrone doesn't miss the opportunity. He quickly deals another punch...one to my face this time.

For a moment, I feel like I'm in one of those cartoons with the little birdies flying around my head.

“Prepare for the unexpected, coach,” he taunts before climbing out of the ring.

Chapter 6 (Lou-Lou)

Everyone is staring at me. Which, I suppose is the point of this debacle.

I should have known something was up when Bruno called my cell phone yesterday to ask how my 'progress' was coming along.

When I told him
fine
, he wanted specifics...and well, I had nothing.

He started screaming that a few pleasant conversations with Tyrone weren't enough because he would lose interest.

I told him I didn't want to partake in this stupid plan of his anymore.

He yelled at me some more before going in for the kill.

He said it was the least I could do for him—after
all
he'd done for me.

Guilt washed over me because he was right.

Not only did DeLuca save me from my father that night...he also
murdered
him for me.

He was telling the truth that day in the conference room when he told me he had something up his sleeve after my father lost the election.

He
killed
him for me. He became my savior all over again after that.

I owed him this.

I quickly told him how sorry I was and he suggested I go to the gym and make Jackson my target.

If I thought I'd felt like a fool in the past...nothing compared to how ridiculous my overt lack of seduction skills were when it came to Jackson.

I sounded like something out of a cheesy 80's porn film...all that was missing was the pizza delivery boy.

Needless to say, Jackson turned me down quicker than
milli vanilli's
music career.

As if
that
wasn't bad enough, I received a text message this morning from Bruno.

He said he loved me and it was killing him having to be so far away from me for so long.

I was so stunned, I took a screenshot of it just in case I was dreaming.

When I didn't respond to him, he called me and
said
the actual words.

He sounded so sincere and
so
loving I didn't know what to think. For a split second, I was actually disappointed when he told me his trip to Italy was going to be extended by another week.

He promised he would make it up to me when he got back. I told him not to bother because I'd be fine all on my own.

He hemmed and hawed before asking me to go back to the gym and head straight for the office located in the back.

The office that connects the gym to the fight club.

I agreed, but I should have known he had an ulterior motive.

The moment I saw Luke's face I turned around and walked right back out.

Apparently, Bruno hired him to be my '
boss
'.

It's obviously just a ruse because I know the
real
reason he's here...to watch over me.

And watch over me he does...the sick fuck.

For once I'm happy to be linked to Bruno because Luke can look all he wants...but there's no way he will
ever
touch me because Bruno
will
kill him.

Not that the world wouldn't be better off without him.

He
still
looks at me the same way he used to back when I was 15.

In other words, he's just as
skeevy
as ever.

Especially when he handed me my ring girl outfit and told me I had to change into it right in front of him.

I grabbed my phone and threatened to call Bruno. He called me a bitch and waited outside the office door after that.

What I
wasn't
prepared for was him yanking my arm and walking me down the long hallway that leads to the gym.

I protested but he told me this was all DeLuca's idea. Evidently, Bruno said I needed to prepare myself for tomorrow night and this was a great way to do it.

Which is why I'm currently standing here wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

The stares, the cat-calls, the whistles...I can't stand any of it.

I'm breaking out in a sweat and I know I'm shaking like a leaf because some men are starting to laugh while saying things like, 'What's the matter, little girl? Want me to make it all better for you?’