Pushing the Limits (16 page)

“Nope.”

“Why not?” Where had he been all day instead?

“I saw my mom today.”

His voice was devoid of emotion, but based on the state of him, she could guess how that meeting went. Returning to the living room, she sat facing him. “It didn't go well?”

His laugh was bitter and cold. A sound she'd never heard before. “Not really.”

“I'm so sorry. I never should have suggested you go to see her,” Colby said. She shouldn't have interfered with something she knew nothing about. Obviously it hadn't helped. More than likely, it had only made things worse for him.

He squeezed her hand. “No. You were right. I needed to get some closure. It may not have been the closure I wanted, but it was something.” His words slurred together slightly and she stood and went to the coffeemaker, pouring a cup quickly and handing it to him.

He set it aside without drinking.

She picked it up and forced it back into his hand. If they were going to talk, he needed to straighten himself up a little. “Drink it, please,” she said when he scowled at her.

He took a tiny sip.

“Did you tell her you were planning to fight again?” she asked.

He nodded. Then he stared off into the distance, his expression hard. “But, you know . . . I've actually been thinking about it, and I don't think I'll go through with the fight.”

Her mouth gaped. “You've been thinking? Since when? This afternoon after the visit . . . while you were getting stupid-drunk?”

He turned to face her. “I never wanted to fight again.”

“Yes, you did. You were just scared to get back inside the cage after what happened. That's understandable . . . but you can't let your mom get to you anymore.” She paused. Her own healthy relationship with her family had clouded her judgment regarding his. She hadn't believed that things could be so terrible. That a mother could be so awful to her own son and have such a negative impact on him. She'd been wrong. “Look, suggesting that you go see her was the wrong advice. What I should have said is forget her.
Fuck her
. Move on with your life and never give a second thought to the person who should have been there for you and never was. The person who hurt you the most and continues to exert control over you with guilt and manipulation that she has no right to do.” She touched his face. “The ghosts of your past will haunt the rest of your future if you let them.”

He pulled her onto his lap and the expression in his eyes was one of pure need and desire. “Why are you so good to me?” he growled.

She swallowed her own betrayal, pushing it aside, knowing now was not the time to tell him the truth. He was drunk, he was hurting, his confidence was once again shaken, and he needed her to be there for him right now. Not be another source of conflict or pain.

The thought that she could be either to him made her chest hurt. So instead of any more thinking or talking, she kissed him. Long and slow, torturing herself and him as she backed off slightly whenever he tried to deepen the kiss. Soon, she
would have to tell him the truth, and that might be the end of things between them.

But that night he needed her and she needed to fall asleep in his arms one more time.

Giving in, she deepened the kiss, tasting the whiskey on his lips, and she felt his breath catch as she eased her hands down his belly to his bulging erection and cupped him through his jeans. “I want you,” she whispered in a voice she nearly didn't recognize as her own.

He undid the button and zipper to his jeans and waited for her to take over. “I'm all yours,” he said huskily, lifting his hips slightly off of the couch.

She pulled his jeans down his hips and, sliding a hand through the opening in his boxer briefs, she cupped him with her hand.

He swore under his breath, his hold on her waist tightening.

She wrapped her hand around his full, throbbing erection and started stroking.

He moaned, allowing his head to roll back as his eyes closed.

She kissed the base of his neck as she thumbed the moist tip of his cock, feeling it throb in her hand.

Suddenly, he grabbed her hands and stopped her, his chest heaving. “Not here.” Lifting her as he stood, he carried her into her bedroom and dropped her onto the tangled sheets. Discarding his clothing faster than she'd ever seen him move, he fell on top of her, pushing her oversized T-shirt up over her body and pulling her panties down over the hips and legs.

She wiggled them down her legs and kicked them off as his body crushed hers. The weight of his upper body pinning her to the bed made it hard to breathe. He thumbed both nipples in a tantalizing motion and her thighs clenched together. “Dane . . . I need you inside me,” she said.

He stared deeply into her eyes for a long moment, searching for something, and for a brief moment she wondered if he knew the truth—if he knew that this thing between them could be over with just a confession—but then he placed a hungry kiss on her receptive mouth and she let all other thoughts go.

He nudged her knees apart and settled himself heavily within the cradle of her thighs. Colby brought her knees up to accommodate him. He moaned, burying his face in her tangled hair, spread out on the pillow. He delved deeper into her with each rhythmic thrust and he kissed her cheek, her neck, and, as his thrusts grew more urgent, her mouth.

She shuddered and clutched his shoulders for strength, losing herself in him. With every withdrawal, she arched her back to protest his abandonment, if only for the second.

It felt excruciatingly long when he broke away to get a condom from the bathroom, and when he returned and entered her once more, she couldn't contain the rippling sensations of pleasure any longer. Her whimpers grew louder, full of need, as her climax drew closer.

His labored breathing matched hers as he thrust harder and faster and deeper each time until he cried out and clung to her, his fingers digging into the flesh at her shoulders.

Sinking her fingers through his hair, she held him there, raising her hips in surrender to the pleasure. Exhausted and spent, they held on to each other as if this moment might disappear if they let go.

He lifted his head to look at her. “You're the best thing I've ever been afraid to lose,” he said.

She swallowed the lump rising in her throat as she kissed him, not wanting to lie to him anymore, not wanting to reassure him he would never lose her, knowing soon enough, he would want to let her go.

* * *

“Usually, I give you guys shit for getting laid while training for a fight, but Dane, man, whatever your chick's doing, tell her to keep doing it,” Tyson said, holding the training pads for him the next day at the gym.

Dane threw another combination, his thoughts returning to Colby, not that they'd strayed far from her at all lately. It wasn't the sex—okay, maybe not
just
the sex—making him feel more confident, more like his old self. It was her. Being with her, talking to her, revealing things he'd kept bottled up for almost a year. Her lack of judgment and open acceptance were doing wonders for his psyche. Maybe he didn't deserve a reprieve from the guilt, but she was making it easier for him to live with it.

The day before had been one of the toughest on him in a long time, and after the visit with his mother he'd seriously contemplated walking away from this fight, breaking his contract, letting Tyson down and letting himself down as well. But Colby had been there for him, talking him back to common sense, helping him realize he wasn't to blame for so many of the things he'd taken responsibility for in his past. He couldn't save his mom. But he could save himself.

And he would. He'd be a better man going forward, one free from the burden of guilt and suffering, for himself, and to be the kind of man Colby deserved.

“Let's take a break. I have a new fighter coming in any minute and I have to see if he's e-mailed over his paperwork yet,” Tyson said, dropping the pads and tossing him his water bottle. “You good to train with Walker for a bit?”

He nodded. “Yeah, man. Don't worry. I'm not going to take off.” Tyson had barely let him out of his sight for three
weeks. He insisted on being the one training him, under the guise of wanting him to be as ready for the fight as possible, but he knew it was also to keep an eye on him. Tyson wanted to make sure he didn't bail at the last minute. He wouldn't lie, the thought had crossed his mind, especially each time he heard the cage door click shut behind him. But he was determined to see this through.

“Okay . . .” Tyson tapped him on the back as the gym door opened and a young guy entered.

Dane recognized the fighter from Xtreme Fight. His mouth went dry and his shoulders tensed. He hadn't seen the guy since the night of the fight. He nodded at him as their eyes met and the other fighter waved. The look on the guy's face was unreadable and Dane couldn't tell if he was uncomfortable seeing him there or not. He knew fighters were superstitious and being around him often made them uncomfortable. But he was glad to see the promising fighter walk into the gym. He was much too good to be competing for Xtreme Fight.

As he walked up the stairs of the cage where Walker was shadowboxing, he forced a calming breath, pushing all thoughts of the past aside to focus on his training. The fight was in less than a week and he felt good—better than he thought he would be feeling—but he didn't want to get cocky and go into the redemption match unprepared.

An hour later, he went into the locker room as the new guy was closing his own locker. Obviously, Tyson had accepted the guy into the camp, though the limp and the stretch bandage on his left leg made him wonder how much training the guy would be able to do. “Hey, Joe.”

“Hi, Dane. How are you?” Joe asked.

“A little better than you, I guess. Torn ligament?” He nodded toward the leg.

Joe nodded. “Yeah, it's healing nicely though. I'm hoping to be back to full health in a couple of weeks. You back training?”

He nodded. “Just for one redemption match, that's all. I'm fighting Rico Mendez at the Hard Rock Casino Exhibition Center next weekend.” He was sure the guy must have heard about it by now. The MFL was advertising the match as though it were a championship fight. Which unnerved him a little. “Nothing permanent.”

“That's too bad, man.”

He refused to discuss the possibility of a more permanent return to the cage, even though the idea had been weighing on his mind more and more lately as he'd gotten better, stronger, more confident. “So, you're done with Xtreme Fight?” Tyson refused to let any of his fighters fight in the league.

Joe nodded. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “Actually, it was your girl who kinda convinced me that maybe it was time to move
on, take another shot at the MFL.”

He frowned. “My girl?”

“Colby. I saw you two together at ShadowDancers last month.”

“Oh, right . . .” His girl. He liked the sound of that. His chest felt lighter and his mind felt at peace for the first time in so long. And he owed so much of that to her. By the sound of it, others had benefited from knowing her as well. The thought made him slightly jealous.

“Anyway, tell her I took her advice—about quitting Xtreme Fight, at least.” He paused. “But Dane, tell her she really should be careful. Just mind her own business and do her job.”

“What are you talking about?” A small pit formed in his stomach.

“She asks a lot of questions and she's pretty vocal about how the organization does things, so I just wouldn't want to see her get hurt or anything,” Joe said.

Dane nodded, not having any idea what he was talking about. They rarely talked about her job as a ring girl. He knew it wasn't her favorite topic and he tried not to push her into discussions about finding a new future for herself. But if she was snooping around at Xtreme Fight, Joe was right. She'd better be careful. “Yeah. I get it. I'll talk to her. Thanks, Joe,” he said, genuinely thankful for the heads-up.

“No sweat, man. Good to see you back.”

Alone in the locker room, he sat on the bench. Colby was asking questions, disagreeing with the organization . . . That could mean trouble for her.

He hated that she was selling herself short working there anyway. She wanted to be a reporter, and he knew she would make a terrific one by the way she'd gotten him to open up.

A thought hit him. She'd helped him get a job and start piecing his life back together. Maybe he could do something to help her. Reaching for his cell phone, he smiled as he dialed the number for Knock Out Sports.

“Knock Out Sports, how may I direct your call?” a receptionist said after the second ring.

“Faith Hart, please.”

“Hi Dane! It was such a surprise hearing from you,” Faith said, leaning over her big pregnant belly to give him a hug later that day.

He slid his sunglasses up over his ball cap and pulled out a chair for her. The fall sun was starting to set but the heat from the day lingered, making the outdoor patio at Dolce's Italian Bistro warm and comfortable for the impromptu dinner meeting. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” he said, sitting across from her.

“Give up an opportunity to eat carbs while I still can? No way,” she said with an easy laugh, touching her stomach. Then, her expression grew serious as she sat forward, leaning her elbows on the table. “Let's get one thing straight though. I will not sleep with you to help you win your upcoming fight.”

His eyes widened. Oh, shit. That's what she thought this was about? His heart raced. Before getting pregnant and engaged to Erik Johansen, Faith had a reputation of being a good-luck charm for fighters. Anyone who banged the hot reporter won their bouts. “God, Faith. No! I swear, that's not what this is about.”

She pouted. “So, what? I'm pregnant, so I'm not attractive anymore?”

Oh, Jesus. His cheeks flamed. “No! You're still hot as hell.” Fuck. This was not coming out right. “I mean . . .”

She laughed and reached out to touch his hand. “Lighten up, Dane. I was messing with you.”

“That wasn't nice. I wasn't sure if Erik was going to jump out of the bushes somewhere and either kick my ass or insist that I sleep with you to save your ego,” he said, relieved. He glanced around the crowded patio to see if anyone had witnessed his near panic attack.

Faith took a sip of her lemon water and sat back in the chair, her hands massaging her stomach. “So, what did you want to talk to me about? I was a good girl with the interview. I stuck to the approved questions, even though it was a challenge.”

He nodded. “I know. You were fantastic. Thank you. I was just hoping I could ask you for another favor.”

“What's up?”

“I have a . . . friend,” he stumbled over the understatement, “who wants to be a sports journalist. She graduated three years ago from Columbia University with a master's in journalism. She's really smart and ambitious, naturally athletic, and knows her shit when it comes to sports . . .”

“You're fucking her, okay, I get it. How can I help?”

“I was wondering if there might be an opportunity at Knock Out Sports for her. Even just an entry-level position. She could work her way up.” A foot in the door was better than nothing, and with Faith leaving soon, maybe there would be some openings. He still couldn't believe Colby wasn't trying to get these opportunities for herself. Her lack of intensity pursuing a job in the career she wanted went against everything else he knew to be true about her.

Faith frowned. “Why doesn't she apply for the internship positions?”

He sighed. “I'm not sure.” With her family's support, he knew she could certainly afford to take a temporary nonpaid internship as they often resulted in paying jobs within a year. “I think it's a fear-of-failure thing.” He really hadn't gotten to the bottom of Colby's hesitancy to go after the career she wanted yet. She'd gotten him to open up a lot easier than she was willing to let go and trust.

Faith was quiet. “I really don't know if there's a position available . . .”

“Please, Faith. Even if she could shadow you while you're still there or something. Or if you could get her a meeting with the right people. Come on, if you can't give me my prefight good luck, this is the least you can do,” he teased, winking at her.

She laughed. “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “I'll see what I can do.” She sighed. “What's your friend's name?”

“Colby Edwards,” he said with a wide smile, grateful he could help return the favor. Colby would have to accept this opportunity and not continue to let whatever her hang-up was hold her back.

But across from him, Faith was giving him an odd look. “Colby?”

“Yes.”

Faith sat forward again, a sympathetic look in her eyes now. “Dane, honey, I think you two need to talk more and fuck less. Colby Edwards already works for Knock Out Sports.”

The ground beneath him seemed to give way, and he felt as though she'd delivered a blow straight to his gut. Colby worked for Knock Out Sports.

“Oh, shit. You didn't know,” Faith said, looking uncomfortable as she shifted in the seat.

He forced a nonchalant tone as he said, “Oh, well, I don't actually know her that well . . .” His mind reeled. She was a reporter? And she'd let him believe she was a ring girl.

“Well enough to be in love with her.” Faith called his bluff. “I'm so sorry, Dane. I shouldn't have said anything.”

She shouldn't have had to. Colby should have told him the truth.

He shook his head. “No, don't apologize. You're not the one who should be sorry.” Damn. He felt like an asshole.

He should never have let his guard down. How many times in his life did he need to be let down for him to realize the only person he could ever trust, ever fully depend on, was himself?

“We don't have to have dinner,” Faith said.

He reached out a hand to stop her from getting up. “Yes, we do. I asked you here for a favor, and you just did me one.” He forced a smile and managed to keep it for the remainder of evening.

But as he walked to his truck an hour later, knowing more about his girlfriend now than he'd learned from her in over a month, his emotions ranged from confused, to angry, all the way to embarrassed. She'd lied to him. She'd been playing him. Been using him to get a story. Faith may have tried to convince him otherwise by saying Colby's story was more about the dangers of fighting for Xtreme Fight League, but he knew without getting close to him, without everything he'd told her, her story wouldn't have had legs.

He'd given her everything she needed. To write about him, the tortured fighter seeking redemption. To write about the Consuelos family, whose lives had been torn apart that night. And to write about Xtreme Fight, the MMA organization that put money before their competitors.

He slammed the truck door and hit the steering wheel. All the time he was falling in love with her, she'd been using him as a source.

* * *

Colby disconnected the call as it went to Dane's voice mail.

Damn it! What the hell was going on?

She'd already left two in the last three days and sent three text messages. She was bordering on obsessive, but she knew in her gut something was wrong. He'd never ignored her before. She tried to think back to the last time they'd been together, desperate to figure out what would be making him act this way, but she came up with nothing.

After work, she'd head over to Punisher Athletics. She didn't care if it made her seem obsessive, clingy, whatever. It didn't matter, she just needed to make sure he was okay. That they were okay. For now, at least. Until she had an opportunity to talk to him and tell him the truth. They were getting so close. She knew he was in love with her, even though neither of them had said it yet, and she prayed once she told him the truth, they could somehow work past it and still be together.

She knew she didn't deserve his understanding and forgiveness, but she hoped once she could explain to him why this story was so important, he wouldn't hate her.

As she approached her cubicle, she saw Faith pacing in front of it. She hadn't seen her in a few days, and this was her last day of work before maternity leave. She couldn't remember ever seeing Faith in The Pit. Her heart soared. Was she here to give her good news? Was she going to be replacing her on Knock Out Sports? She fought to conceal her unjustified excitement and steady her shaking knees as she reached her. “Hi, Faith.”

“Colby, I totally fucked up.”

She frowned. “Okay . . .”

“I need to sit,” she said, pulling out Colby's desk chair and sitting. Then she stood, after a brief, awkward struggle. “No, on second thought,
you
should sit.”

Oh, shit. “What's going on, Faith?” she asked, lowering herself into the chair, all hopes of a surprise promotion vanishing.

“I'm really, really sorry . . .”

“About . . .” she urged. She was freaking out already.

“I met with Dane the other night.”

Colby's mouth dropped. Seriously? Even at a million weeks pregnant, Faith was screwing the fighters for good luck? That's why Dane was avoiding her? He'd slept with Faith. He actually believed in that superstitious garbage and had jeopardized their relationship for it? Anger made her chest swell. Where was he? When she found him, she was going to cut his balls off.

But Faith was shaking her head furiously. “Oh, come on! I know that look and you're wrong.” She frowned, looking slightly hurt that Colby had assumed the worst. “I'm not a complete slut. I met him for dinner to talk about you!”

Colby blinked. “I'm not following.”

Going to the next cubicle, Faith grabbed the back of the chair where a new intern was sitting, on the phone. “Get up. I need your chair,” she said.

The young girl didn't bat an eye as she stood and gave up her seat.

Faith rolled it over and sat in front of her. “Okay.” She took a breath. “He was trying to get you a job. Here.”

She was going to be sick. She slumped in the chair, all her strength zapped. He knew. That's why he wasn't answering her calls or texts. Oh, God. What a mess. She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her forehead in her hand. “Oh, this is not good.” And he'd been trying to help her get a job? God, she was such an asshole.

“I'm sorry, Colby. I had no idea. I was caught completely off guard.”

“It's not your fault,” she said.
She
was the only one to blame for this. “How mad was he?” she asked, not really wanting or needing to hear the answer. He was avoiding her—that was enough.

“Pretty mad. He thought you were using him to get a story about his comeback to fighting.” She paused, looking sheepish. “So, I tried to make things better by explaining that the story wasn't about that . . . but about the Xtreme Fight League and how they violate codes.”

This kept getting worse. A comeback story, focusing on the present and a possible future in the sport, Dane could probably eventually be okay with, but she suspected Faith's attempt to make things better had only made him more upset. He had to know that she'd be using the Consuelos fight as evidence to back her story and that he'd inadvertently given her all the information she needed, by opening up to her, trusting her. She buried her face in her hands.

“Sorry, Colby,” Faith said, touching her shoulder. “But I couldn't lie to him.”

“
I
shouldn't have lied to him,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I've messed up the best relationship I've ever had.” And for what? A story that may or may not secure the promotion she'd wanted? One that didn't even seem to matter in that moment. All that did matter was she'd hurt the only man she'd ever loved. One who was so kind and caring and had been through so much hell the last year and forever before that. He didn't deserve this pain she'd obviously put him through. Her stomach turned and she swallowed hard, feeling like the worst person on the planet.

Faith sighed. “You need to talk to him.”

“I've tried calling and texting. He won't answer.” She doubted talking to him, trying to explain the situation, would work anyway. But she knew she had to try. Even if he couldn't forgive her, he deserved to hear all of this from her. Deserved an apology from her.

“Well, he does have a fight coming up in three days,” Faith said with a sympathetic I'm-glad-I'm-not-you smile. “You know where to find him.”

* * *

This must be what walking death row feels like.

Each step closer to the entrance of Punisher Athletics felt tougher than the last. Dane's truck was parked in the gravel lot, so she knew he was inside, but the temptation to turn around and leave was overwhelming.

She hadn't been able to focus at work after her talk with Faith, so she'd told Jack she was sick and taking the rest of the day off. It wasn't a lie. She felt nauseous and her mind was as conflicted as her heart. And she suspected she would need the rest of the day to cry the river of tears that had built up while at the office and on the ride here. She needed to keep her composure and hold herself together just a little bit longer. She wouldn't use tears to try to manipulate Dane into forgiving her. She'd stay strong, apologize, and—

“What are you doing here?”

His voice behind her made her jump as she turned.

He was breathing hard, obviously back from a run. He stopped his stopwatch and placed his hands on his hips, his dark expression unreadable and intimidating.

God, did he have to be so freaking gorgeous? Even sweaty and mean-looking. Especially sweaty and mean-looking. Damn. Now was not the time to get turned on, right before he officially dumped her. Right when she needed to spit out her rehearsed speech. She took a deep breath. “I'm sorry.” So much for the rehearsed speech.

“Wow, how did I know that was coming?” he asked, his voice hard and cold. “And I bet next, you're going to say, ‘Let me explain' . . . Well, save it. I'm not interested in hearing anything you have to say. I'm done. We're done.”

The lump in her throat refused to go away and she didn't trust herself to speak, so she nodded.

He moved past her toward the entrance, then swung back. “Actually, you know what? I'm not done with you.” He marched toward her and she held her breath. “You really had me fooled. For the first time in almost a year, maybe even my entire life, I trusted someone. I trusted you. I opened up to you and I believed in you. Damn it!”