Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse) (6 page)

A
week had passed
since the fight, and I was still in a bad place.

The gym was empty when I arrived, but that was the point. I’d come a couple of hours early to get in some alone time before Lincoln and Coach arrived, to work through some of my pent-up stress. My head was fine physically—despite the cut over my eyebrow that was still healing—but internally, I was shot.

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten from black to blue with a few stars still shining through. The sun rose over the ocean, so I could see the fire in the sky and the refection on the water. We were a stone’s throw from Bondi Beach and that made the place cost a mint. It was the only thing I’d shelled out that much cash for in my entire career. Linc and I had a fifty-fifty split in this place, and we owned it outright. Best investment ever.

Climbing up onto one of the treadmills, I tossed my hoodie and powered the machine up to a walk. Running seemed to be the only thing that had calmed my mind in the last week. Focusing on the burn of my muscles and the pounding of my feet on the track centered my destructive thoughts.

I was on my fourth kilometer when the electronic lock clicked and the outside door opened. I caught sight of Josie in the refection of the window and was a little surprised to see her.

She came in early three days a week to do her own workout—one of the perks of working with us was using our private gym—but today she was extra early, which was out of sorts for her. Watching her reflection, I ran my gaze over her body and frowned.

Sure, I’d noticed her before, I was a man after all, but now I really noticed her.

The little sports crop she wore barely held her breasts in place, and the leggings that hugged her ass didn’t leave much to the imagination. Each tight cheek was the perfect size to sit in my palm… I felt my cock begin to rouse, and I thumped my fist onto the controls of the treadmill, upping the speed.

There, that was better.

Josie didn’t say anything, she just climbed onto the treadmill beside mine and began at a slow walk. Damn, did she have to run beside me in that little top?
Shit
.

We ran side by side, and it took all my strength to keep focused on the lightening horizon and not her tits. When I got to ten clicks, I slowed to a jog, then to a walk before coming to a complete stop.

I watched Josie for a while, her body sleek and athletic as she ran. She had good form.

“You’re creeping me out,” she declared breathlessly.

“You’re early today,” I replied, reaching for my water bottle. Popping the lid up, I put it in my mouth and sucked, letting the cool water wet the back of my throat.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said, slowing her speed.

Smirking, I asked, “What did I do this time?”

She didn’t reply as she stepped off the end of the now stationary treadmill.

“You always do cardio,” I said, changing the subject. “You should do some weights.”

“Why?” she asked, turning to face me, her skin all dewy with sweat. “As long as I have stamina, I don’t need muscle.”

Stamina? Holy fuck, my cock liked that sound of that.

“Then at least let me teach you some basic kickboxing techniques,” I declared, tossing the water bottle and gesturing for her to stand on the mat.

“What’ll that do?” she asked, kicking off her trainers and bending over to peel off her socks.

Of course, it gave me an eyeful of her cleavage, and I raised an eyebrow.
Nice
.

“It’ll tighten your core muscles,” I said and instantly came alive at the double meaning in my words.

She smirked. “Really? Sounds like fun.”

“And you tell me off for being a dirty bastard,” I replied, grinning in return.

She shook her head. “So what do I do?”

“Raise your fists like this.” I raised my hands, curling my fingers into hard fists, the same fists that had knocked out full-grown men, and she mirrored my stance. “Now hold your core.” I reached out and pressed my palm against her stomach, and she instantly sucked in her gut. “Now raise your knee as high as you can across your body.”

I stood back and demonstrated, grinning at her expression of futility. “Your turn.”

“Right,” she declared, looking determined. “That doesn’t look hard at all.”

I smirked, knowing it’d burn right up her inner thigh, and stood back as she gave it a go. She wobbled on her left foot as she thrust her right knee into the air. She almost fell on her ass, and I burst out laughing.

“Shut up,” she snapped. “You make it look so easy.”

“Keep going,” I ordered. “Don’t forget to do the other leg.”

She began to alternate legs, and I found myself watching more than her form. Being the typical male I was, I zeroed in on her ass and watched her breasts bob slightly as she raised her knee. She’d hurt in all the places a good man made his woman ache.

“I feel like I’m doing the Nutbush,” she declared, breaking the spell.

“The Nutbush?” I asked, blinking at her.

“Yeah, Tina Turner. It’s like the Macarena. There are dance moves just like this.” Thrusting her knee, she started moving through what I assumed was the Nutbush as she began to sing.

Way to soften a guy’s cock. Despite my inappropriate game plan, I was kinda glad things were going back to normal with Josie. It had always been easygoing between us even when she was ripping shreds off me for my latest stuff up.

“Add some squats to that and you might have a proper workout,” I declared.

“Dirty bastard.”

“You know too much,” I replied with a wink. “But you should do more than just cardio.”

“Hey,” she said. “Don’t knock the stamina.”

Snorting, I sank down onto the bench. “Josie, a man loves stamina. Especially in bed. I ain’t knocking it.”

Her cheeks flushed red, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the workout or my words.

“Yep,” she said, sitting next to me. “A man’s stamina is just as important as his restraint when it comes to the money shot.”

“That’s a bit forthright,” I replied. “Even for you.”

“Women love sex just as much as men,” she shot back. “If he knows what he’s doing. That makes all the difference.”

I laughed, turning my attention away from her and her sexy flushed cheeks. “I know it isn’t just in and out, Jo. It makes a difference for men, too.”

“You don’t say, maestro.”

It was getting a little hot and heavy, so I let the conversation die off, watching the sunrise light up the ocean.

“What do you see in her?” Josie asked after a moment.

I knew she was talking about Monica, and once, I would’ve known how to answer her question, but a lot had changed since the night the object of my unrequited affection almost had her sister brutalized.

“I don’t know,” I replied truthfully. “Not anymore.”

She snorted. “If you say so.”

“What do you want me to say?” I asked, beginning to get frustrated. Mentally and physically. “I don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

Josie scowled. “You’re willing to overlook all the things she did to Ren and her family to keep pursuing it? Even when she pushed you aside like nothing for a man who was in love with someone else?”

“Let it go,” I snapped, running my hand over my face. “Please.”

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. I knew she didn’t understand, but her badgering wasn’t helping clear the fog in my stupid head. I didn’t like to be forced.

“Do you want her?” she asked, glancing at me. “Is it just sex, or is it more than that?”

I frowned. “More?”

Josie’s lips tightened. “Do you want to know who she is, spend time with her, and cuddle?” She pretended to vomit. “Or do you just want the orgasm?”

I gestured to my dick and told her the truth. “All the fuck I know right now is this works when I think about her.”

“Then,” Josie said, pressing closer, “it’s about her body. It’s got nothing to do with her as a person.”

“Fuck.” She was probably right.

“What about me?” she asked, placing her hand on my thigh.

“You?”

Josie was a stunner, real put together. Of course, I’d thought about her and felt something, but after ten years of lusting after Monica Miller—a woman who almost had her half-sister, Ren, beaten and abused because of her own unrequited love story—I didn’t know how to move on. Wanting Coach Miller’s daughter was a habit I couldn’t let go of even with the blonde siren sitting beside me.

Josie bit her bottom lip and moved to straddle me. Her ass settled into my lap while her arms circled my shoulders. After our borderline sexual workout session, I was amped up, and from the look on her face, she felt just how amped I really was.

She smelt real fuckin’ good. A little sweaty but mostly like the sweet and spicy perfume she wore.

“She doesn’t even look at you,” she whispered, rubbing the sweet spot between her legs against my cock. “I’m looking. I’ve always looked.”

“Josie—”

She lowered her lips toward mine, making it perfectly clear what she wanted, but my mind was spinning. She’d dumped Hamish at the wedding and immediately pulled me onto the dance floor… Then it slammed into me, and I wasn’t sure if it was the truth or if it was my cock talking. She’d dumped Hamish for me. I didn’t want her to do that…did I?

Her lips were an inch from claiming mine, and she almost had me when I jerked away.

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” she snapped, pulling back.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted to fuck her, but Josie wasn’t the kind of woman who deserved that shit. If I fucked her now, then it’d ruin everything. She’d leave when it all fell apart because of my messed-up head, and Linc would have my balls in a vice. This wasn’t what he meant when he’d implied I needed to treat her better. We needed her here with us.

“Monica Miller is a vapid excuse for a human being,” she exclaimed. “She doesn’t see you, Dean. She doesn’t see what a great guy you are. Fuck, you’re so
stupid
.”

She climbed off my lap and stalked across the room, grabbing her bag and snatching her towel from over the arm of the treadmill, and all I could do was sit there and watch her. I was stuck to the spot, my cock hard and my pride hurt.

“I’m working off-site today,” she snapped, not even looking at me as she put her trainers back on. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be on the mobile.”

“Josie,” I began, but I didn’t have any words to follow it up with.

She didn’t even acknowledge me as she strode across the gym, and a moment later, the door slammed shut.

Was I being noble or making the biggest mistake of my life? Without even understanding what I’d done, I’d just made things a whole lot worse. That hit to the head must’ve done more damage than I first thought.

I was such a mess.

I
couldn’t remember
the last time I cried over a man.

He’d pushed me away, and it was all the proof I needed. Dean Hayes didn’t feel a single thing for me.

All I ever wanted was to be loved by a strong man. Maybe that was the only reason I’d latched onto him in the absence of Hamish.

I thought about all the little signals I’d been getting from Dean since the wedding and began to feel foolish. I’d blown them all out of proportion. I’d wanted to love someone so much I’d twisted his actions into what I wanted to see.

God, I was such a stupid woman. Dean was smart for the first time in his life when he’d pushed me away. He was smart, and I was dumb.

Was I heartbroken or embarrassed?

I didn’t know what drove me to get on a plane and fly to Melbourne without telling anyone, but I did, and that’s where I was—standing in the lobby of the Marriott Hotel in the city with my little wheelie bag beside me. I was such a freak.

I never ran from my problems, but this… It had just gotten under my skin, and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I couldn’t deal with seeing Dean after the incident in the gym, and I couldn’t face work. Seeing Lincoln and Violet together would’ve stabbed me right in the heart. I wanted what they had with Dean. I wanted it so bad.

Checking in and dumping my bag in my room, I stood in the bathroom and took in my reflection. Poking at my pores, I tried to find the flaw that had turned Dean off me. Was it something in my face? Perhaps my eyes? What about my hair? I was the total opposite of Monica Miller. She was dark, and I was light. Maybe I wasn’t enough of a bad girl?

I was bad enough for Hamish McBride.

Glancing down at my outfit, I commended myself on choosing to wear my six-inch black patent heels and skinny jeans before I got on the plane. He loved it when I wore these shoes and nothing else. My cream blouse was sheer enough that it showed a hint of my black lacy bra underneath. Simple and sexy but still classy.

Opening my bag, I fossicked around for my favorite harlot red lipstick and coated my lips. Pouting in the mirror, I shook up my hair and spritzed my locks with hairspray.

Before I lost my nerve, I called down to the lobby for a taxi. This was either going to be suicide or a fucking good night…
literally
.

* * *

T
he Underground hadn’t changed
a single bit since my last visit a year ago. It was still a pile of shit.

Sliding out of the taxi, I flipped open an extra button on my blouse and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

Approaching warehouse, I allowed my mind to mull over the memories I had of this place. The run-down building in Abbotsford was illegal as hell, but fighters from all over came here to try their luck at winning big money. It was brutal—none of the rules of the AUFC extended here—but it didn’t seem to turn off many.

When I first found out that Ren was fighting in the women’s Championship, I flipped my lid. She’d been turning up to her part-time job at the cafe around the corner from Beat with cuts and bruises on her face. For a while, I thought Ash had been hitting her, but she soon came clean.

The first time I went to see her fight was the first time I’d laid eyes on Hamish McBride, the Irish cage fighter who’d stolen my heart.

I spotted him almost immediately.

It’d only been a couple of weeks, but he looked different somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I liked it. Weaving through the crowd, I stood before him and allowed the familiarity of his presence to calm my raging heart.

“Hey,” I said as his gaze met mine.

“Josie,” he replied, his eyebrow raising.

“You look surprised to see me,” I purred, taking a step closer.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“
Hamish
,” I scolded playfully. “You know why I’m here.”

“Josie…”

“We do this all the time, right? Fight, break up, get back together…” I ran my palms over his chest and tugged my bottom lip into my mouth. He loved it when I teased.

He glanced over my shoulder, then focused on me, his gaze taking in every inch, including my cleavage.

“What do you say?” I asked, pressing against his familiar body. “You know it’ll be good.”

“Josie,” he said more firmly.

I could hear it in his voice. He wasn’t into it, and it made my already dented pride sting like hell. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be with someone. I needed it.

My gaze snapped up to met his. “What? Don’t you want me?”

His fingers grasped my wrists and pulled my hands away from his chest. “What about Dean?”

My eyes narrowed at the mention of his name, and I screwed up my nose. “Dean…”

“Is a fuckin’ cocksucker,” Hamish snarled. “He obviously did somethin’ to make you want to come back here.”

My mouth dropped open. “Then what’s the problem? Isn’t this what you wanted? Us, together?”

His chest rose as he took a deep breath, and he let my wrists go. “Josie… He hurt you. This is a reaction, not a solution. What happened at Ash and Ren’s weddin’…it made me realize we’d never make it long-term. We want different things. Deep down, you want another man.” He glanced over my shoulder again. “And I…”

Knowing he had his eye on someone else, I sucked up my pride and followed his gaze. When I saw the woman at the bar trying not to glare at us, my expression crumpled. I was screwing everything up wherever I went.

“Shit…” I hissed, beginning to feel like the biggest idiot of them all.

“Whatever’s happened you need to work it out with him,” he said. “I’m not goin’ to be the guy you use for revenge.”

I felt tears forming, so I lowered my head, swiping the back of my hand over my eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Hamish smiled kindly. “Don’t think anythin’ of it.”

I shuffled on the spot, curling my arms around my stomach for an extra layer of protection. He had something going and I probably just shat all over it. He deserved to have something go right in his life after what I’d put him through.

“Is she nice?” I asked, glancing up at him.

Hamish frowned. “Is who nice?”

“The woman at the bar you keep looking at. Does she treat you nice?”

He shrugged, which was typical Hamish. Always shrugging things off saying they’ll be all right. “I don’t know if she feels the same…or if what I feel is anythin’ more than physical.”

I snorted and shook my head. “She’d be a fool not to.”

Lifting a hand, he placed it on my shoulder and squeezed. “Dean can be fuckin’ stupid, but I saw the way he looked at you at the weddin’. If you want it, you’ve gotta fight for it. Fuck knows I fought hard enough.”

I sighed and glanced at the faces around us. Anywhere but at Hamish. I’d fought and Dean had pushed me away. I’d sat in his fucking lap, grinding against his hard-on, and he still didn’t want me. I wasn’t sure there was anything
to
fight for.

I was fighter kryptonite.

“I’m sorry for coming here and trying to drag you into my petty shit,” I said, turning back to face the consequences. “I’m sorry for what I did to you at the wedding. I should’ve—”

But Hamish didn’t need to hear it. “Like I said…don’t think anythin’ of it.” Turning me gently toward the exit, he murmured, “C’mon. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I really am sorry, Hamish.”

“I know, darlin’,” he murmured. “But it is what it is.”

We walked through The Underground and out into the night where Hamish stood with me as I called a taxi.

“You should go back inside and patch things up with your girl,” I said, shoving my phone back into my pocket. “I’ll be fine out here.”

“I’ll wait,” he replied, leaning against the wall. “Or have you forgotten how fucked up this place can get?”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m in the mood for some self-destruction.”

He straightened up. “Don’t do that, Josie. You stayin’ with Ren?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t told anyone I’m here. I just… I needed to get away.”

“What did he do?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, hanging my head. “I feel like utter crap already for coming here like this. Last person I should be talking to about Dean is the guy I dumped for him.”

“Lori has taught me a few things about openin’ my eyes,” he said, ignoring me. “I could be mad at you, but I’m not. It was the right thing to do to go our separate ways. Sometimes, I need to keep remindin’ myself that.” He glanced at me and smiled. “Maybe you need to keep tellin’ yourself it’s okay to move on. Don’t keep beatin’ yourself up about it. I’m good.”

Was he high or something? “I don’t deserve this. How nice you’re being to me.”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing,” he said with a wink.

“Is that her name? Lori?”

He nodded. “She’s been workin’ the bar in there for three years, and I never once saw her. I never would’ve seen her if you hadn’t…”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say about that.”

“It didn’t work between us, but it doesn’t mean it won’t work between you and Dean.”

I snorted. “He’s still hung up over Monica Miller. How can I compete with the pedestal he’s got her on?”

“You know, I don’t understand that,” he said, knocking his shoulder against mine. “If you’re askin’ me, I think it’s habit more than anythin’.”

I snorted and shifted away from him as the yellow taxi came into view at the end of the lane. He’d been nicer to me than I deserved.

“I’m sorry,” I said again as I backed away.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shouted after me. “You look after yourself, all right?”

I waved him off, feeling a little better about my failed seduction but still a whole lot rejected, and got into the taxi. There was nothing else I could do.

The chapter of my life labeled ‘Hamish McBride’ had finally been closed for good.

* * *

T
he hotel bar
was mostly empty when I pulled up a stool.

The idea of going back to my room and watching late-night infomercials was out of the question, and drowning my sorrows was a way better idea. Drinking my body weight in vodka martinis was probably the best decision I’d made in the last three weeks.

In here, I could sit in my own little world and forget about the embarrassment I’d caused myself. I’d wallow for tonight, and tomorrow I’d go get a lovely spa treatment of some sort and then I’d be clearheaded enough to work out what I was going to do when I inevitably came face to face with Dean. Once my head was back on my shoulders, I’d get the next flight back to Sydney and get on with it. Because that’s what professionals did, and I was a professional.

I. Was. A. Professional. Said the woman with three empty martini glasses on her high score.

“Well, well, well,” a gravelly voice rumbled beside me. “This is a surprise.”

Glancing up, my gaze met Gabe O’Connell’s. My stomach did a flip, and I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed when I was already well on the way to being inebriated. I could always puke in his lap. It wasn’t my mouth, but at least it was warm and wet.

“Great,” I drawled, reaching for my newest glass. Pressing it against my lips, I took a large sip, not caring if I slurped.

“Boyfriend dump you or something?” he asked with a smirk.

“Don’t you live here?” I asked, scowling at him with as much force as I could muster.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, sitting on the stool beside me.

“So what are you doing at a hotel? Trawling for your next victim?”

He laughed and gestured for the bartender to pour him a scotch. Turning to me, he said, “My apartment is being painted.”

“I bet you say that to all your conquests,” I slurred, slumping over the bar. He seemed to be enjoying the train wreck.

“The offer still stands, you know.”

“Which one?”

“Come work for me. I’ll make it worth your while, sweetheart.”

“One,” I snapped, holding up my middle finger. “I’m not your sweetheart.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I like you. A lot. What’s two?”

“Two,” I went on, raising my pointer finger to join the middle one. “Not for all the money in the world.”