Fighting Lust: A Deadly Sins Novel (21 page)

“Yes, but saying you accept it is one thing. Seeing it up close and personal in your face, is another.”

“You’re right,” I nod. “I would love nothing more than to go in there, find him, and pound the memory of you out of his mind with my fists. The thought of him having intimate knowledge of anything about you will make me crazy if I think about it too much. So no, it isn’t pleasant, but it is what it is.” I shrug. “I think the main thing here is that it doesn’t change anything. I still want everything we’ve discussed. Okay?”

She nods her head, but doesn’t look convinced. Cupping her face, I give her a soft kiss on the lips. When she feels them on hers, it’s as if that’s all she needed to finally be able to relax. She becomes soft and pliable in my arms and her lips soften on mine as she kisses me back. When we pull apart, I look at her questioningly, and she smiles softly and nods, “Okay.”

“Holy hell, that was so sweet!” Gina says from the now unrolled window making both of us laugh and roll our eyes.

“I need to get back inside. You okay?” I ask, not wanting to leave her.

“Yeah,” she says but then nods her head again, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” she agrees and to my surprise, gives me one more quick kiss on the lips before she ducks into the car. I like that she keeps surprising me.

***

One of the perks of being good friends with the owner of the gym you train in is that I can use the gym any time I want. Jax gave a few of us keys, and I’m one of them. The gym has long since closed and it’s been one hell of a long day, but I don’t feel ready to go home quite yet.

Through the glass I’m surprised to see a few lights are still on, and as I unlock the door and let myself in the lone fighter turns to face me.

“Cole, hey,” I call out as I lock the door behind me. “I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here.”

He uses his arm to wipe sweat from his brow, “I wasn’t in the mood to go home and found myself here,” Cole answers. His gray t-shirt is saturated in sweat, and his hair is damp. It’s clear he’s been here for a while. Exhaustion clouds his eyes, his smile is strained, and he’s got a crease between his brows that tells me he’s stressed out. I’ve gotten to know my friend well, but lately he’s choosing to keep something that’s been bothering him close to the vest.

“You okay, man?”

He looks at me, nods, then looks away again. “Yeah. Fine.”

“In other words, no, but you’re not wanting to talk about it?”

He breathes out a laugh, “Pretty much.”

“You know, at some point, you really should talk about whatever the hell is going on with you,” I tell him as I take off the hoodie I’m wearing and begin wrapping my hands with tape so I can punch the speed bag. For months Cole has clearly had something personal going on.

Jerry, Jax’s estranged father, is Cole’s fighting coach. Jerry used to help coach a bunch of us, but that was before his drinking escalated and he continued to become more and more hostile. One by one all of us quit our professional relationship with him and started using Coach Gil, the same coach Jax himself uses, or Jax instead. Then, when Jax and Jerry had a major falling out, anyone left quit him all together. Everyone except Cole.

No one knows or understands why, and Cole’s not telling. The asshole treats Cole like shit and it pisses all of us off. Truth is if he knew Cole was here right now, he’d probably lay into him. Jerry is bitter that his father left the gym to Jax and not to him when he died. Things have never, and probably will never, be the same between the two of them again. Why Cole would choose to be in the middle of that shit, I really don’t get. We’ve all tried to figure out what the hell he’s thinking, but Cole won’t give an inch.

“At some point, maybe,” Cole says with a shrug basically blowing me off. I can see it all over his face. “Instead, what’s going on with you? What’s with the late night drop by? Something up with the nurse?”

“Well, things are great. Mostly. It only took me telling her that I wouldn’t sleep with her for a month to want to get to know me,” I laugh knowing how funny that sounds.

Cole drops the barbell he was holding in shock and begins to laugh too, “You did what? No wonder you’re here. You have some pent up frustration to work out, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“I just don’t believe my ears is all. How are you, of all people, going to go without sex for a month?”

Shrugging, I hit the bag a few times before answering, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? Sure, maybe not for someone like me. We won’t even talk about my dry spells, it’s embarrassing, but you? I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you without some chick hanging on you.”

I guess he’s right. As I beat the bag in front of me I see myself as he does. Always flirting, always bringing girls home with me, or going to their places. I never passed up an opportunity, or was shy about the details later. Truth is, it was perfect for a guy that never wants to get feelings involved. They scratched an itch I had and either I did the same for them, or they felt like hot shit because they hooked up with a fighter. The MMA groupie chicks are the easiest score. They hang around us for one reason and one reason only. Every single one of us have indulged – even Cole on occasion, though to his credit, not often.

“Dude, what’s with the killing of the bag?” Cole says making me stop and realize I’m breathing hard and was murdering the shit out of the bag – my thoughts making me oblivious to my actions.

“I haven’t been with anyone since I was with Tessa.” Cole’s eyes show his surprise, but he stays silent. “Look, I don’t do this…” I break off and laugh at myself, “you know what’s funny is that I just said this to Tessa the other day. I’m not a share my feelings kind of guy, but yet, lately that seems to be all I’m doing. And girls that need me in any way – hell just slightly indicating that they might - I run for the hills. I may fuck them first, but then it’s always been adios senorita.” Either Cole doesn’t know what to say, or he just respects my need to work out what I want to say. “The way that I am… with women… without getting into it, I’ll just say, there’s a reason for that.”

Cole doesn’t take his eyes off of mine, he simply nods and waits for me to continue. “I promised myself I would never get close enough to a woman again that would make me have to care about her. Shitty, I know, but it’s easier. It’s always been easier. Caring like that about someone? It only gets you hurt.” I sit on a bench and place my elbows on my knees, staring at the ground. “Tessa… she’s not only captured my attention in a way no one else has managed to do in years, but she also put a sour taste in my mouth for the lifestyle I’ve been living. I’m not…” I sigh deeply, “I’m not proud of it.”

What I don’t say to him is that maybe it was the role reversal – the way she came on to me. Maybe it was because when she walked into the bar that night and I first looked into her eyes across the room, I knew that some how, some way, she and I were destined to come together. I don’t believe in fairy tale shit, but I really don’t know how else to explain this. I also know that random hook ups aren’t going to cut it anymore. And anyone but Tessa isn’t going to either. Hell if I completely understand why, but that girl does it for me. The red hair, bright blue eyes, a body made for sin, and that mouth that I just know is made to speak it. Aside from that there’s the mystery in her smile, the vulnerability she lets me see at times, and the ache she so clearly wears that I want to soothe if just given the chance. If she just lets me in.

“I don’t know, man. I really don’t. But God help me, I want that woman and lord knows I want to get her naked, but if proving to her and maybe even more so to myself that I want to get to know her, for
her
, means trying to go one month without getting laid. Well, the end result will be worth it.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to give the impression that I’m judging you,” Cole says from the bench across from me. I look up into his face, not even realizing he’d sat down. “If Tessa is what you want then hell, I say go for it. All I was saying is that it’s different – you’re different. Your promise about not sleeping with her surprises me. But, if there is one thing I do know, it’s that all of us have a past and like it or not, good or bad, it defines who we are. It’s how we choose to let the emotions of those stories impact us that’s going to determine our future. I’m not saying that it’s easy, because I sure as hell know that it’s not. You aren’t the only one with a story. But, I really believe that if you want to make a change and Tessa is what you want, then you should go after it. You should at least try because you will always regret it if you don’t.

“When did you get so smart?”

“Dude, I’ve always been. You just aren’t paying attention.

“I pay attention to more than you think. Which is why when you’re ready to talk about your past and what you are going to carry into the future yourself, I’m here too you know.”

He nods solemnly and then a smile cuts across his face. “You know something man?

“What’s that?’

“You’re really good at this feeling sissy shit. You sure you aren’t a professional hand holder or tissue tear wiper or something?”

Laughing I stand and take a swing at him that he easily dodges, “Fuck you.”

“Maybe before, but I know you only have eyes for Tessa now,” he says making us both laugh.

“Alright, that’s it. Let’s take this to the octagon,” I challenge.

“You got it,” he says and we begin to spar.

When my phone rings, I’m already sliding the button to answer the call before I even fully notice the name on the screen. I should know better. It’s just that Ryder said he was going to call me around this time, and I’m anxious to talk to him. It’s been a ridiculously busy week for both of us. We’ve managed to text and call each other when we could, but tonight we’re supposed to see each other. I can’t wait. Initially assuming it was Ryder calling, it was already too late when I realized my mistake.

“Hello?” I answer with a smile on my face and my heart already skipping a beat anxious to hear the sound of his voice.

“It’s about damn time. I’ve been calling you for days, Tessa.” Instantly my body stiffens. The sandwich I was making is quickly forgotten and my knife falls to my plate and I almost knock over my bottle of water in the process. Instantly, a sheen of cold sweat breaks out on my body and I feel as if I could be sick. Just the sound of her voice alone does this to me.

“Mom,” I somehow manage to say, “I haven’t answered your calls for a reason. I have nothing to say to you about this.” And yet I feel like I am frozen, listening, unable to release myself from her words.

“But Tessa, he comes up for release soon. I know they’re after you to say those awful untruths about him again and stir the pot. Why can’t you just leave the poor man alone and let him - let us - live our life. We deserve a good life. I’ll never know how you could have made up all that stuff. You always were one that needed attention – and a lot of it. He was a good daddy to you…so attentive and loving.”

I laugh, and I laugh so hard I can’t stop. I can hear her calling my name over and over, but I’m beyond listening. At some point I hang up the phone and it isn’t until some time later that I realize I’m in a ball in the corner of the kitchen on the floor.

Standing up, I push my hair off my wet cheeks as I walk to the bathroom. When I look at myself in the mirror, my eyes look like a crazed individual - wide and glassy, and my face splotchy from my tears. Running the cold water, I pull my hair back before I splash some water on my face. My mind flashes through all the conversations I’ve tried and failed to have with my mom. All the times I’ve tried to talk to her about the truth, but she failed to see, refused to see. My mom is so caught up in herself, so caught up in the delusion she’s created, she can’t see past her own fantasy. She’ll always believe exactly what she wants to believe, everyone else be damned. She’s become a champion of making excuses to benefit herself. The kind where she always seems to come out the other end as either the victor or the victim.