The Fighter (The High Rise, Book 1) (11 page)

I put my
forehead in my hand and lament, “I told you I always fall for
players.”

“Why don’t you
come to dinner tonight and we can talk? Invite Dani too.”

I’m still
shocked about this new revelation when I answer, “I can come but
Dani’s working.”

“That’s too
bad. I haven’t seen her in a while. Daddy should be home by then,”
Mom says.

“I’ll be
there. Love you,” I say distractedly.

“I love you
too. See you soon.”

Mom makes the
best pork chops ever. She knows they’re my favorite and I know this
is her way of making me feel better.

My parents
live in Bel Air in the same house where I grew up. It’s a beautiful
house but there’s nothing showy about it, but I remember thinking
it was the best house in the neighborhood. I know now that it was
because my parents made it that way with their never-ending love
and support. I also love that my parents are so down-to-earth
despite the fact that they’re wealthy. Neither of them has a
pretentious bone in their bodies and they raised me to be the same.
Oh, they attend all the charity functions getting all dressed up,
Dad in a tux and Mom in a sequined gown, hobnobbing with the rich
and famous, but I’ve never seen them act any differently at these
affairs than they do at home.

Dad just got
home and we’re now at the table chatting over dinner.

“You’re doing
great, Laney,” he tells me. “This month alone you’ve signed
eighteen leases.”

I shrug. “It’s
not me, Dad. People show up, I hook them up.”

“It’s because
they can’t resist your sales tactics, not to mention your beauty
and charm, Button.” He calls me Button because he said when I was
born I had the cutest little button nose.

“Dad,” I
mumble, embarrassed.

“Take the
compliment, Laney,” Mom chides.

Since I look a
lot like her, I guess I’d be killing two birds by accepting it.
Whatever.

“So what’s
this about a man you’re seeing who’s a gigolo?” Dad asks.

I choke on my
wine. After I finish hacking up a lung, I give Mom a look before
replying, “I’m not seeing anyone. And I don’t know what he does for
a living.”

“Hm. Your
mother said he’s a, what’d you say she called him, Meredith?”

“A player,”
Mom shares before mumbling, “whatever that means.”

God. When did
my parents get so old? But I guess they always have been since Mom
was thirty-eight and Dad was forty-two when they had me. I’m
twenty-four, so you do the math.

I explain for
the billionth time, “A player is someone who plays around and
doesn’t want to get serious with a woman. The bad thing is they
usually act like they’re serious but they cheat behind their
girlfriend’s back.”

“Well, that
doesn’t sound right,” Mom comments.

“Any man does
that to my little girl and he’ll have hell to pay,” Dad chimes
in.

“You don’t
have to worry, Dad,” I mumble.

“So what’s
Dani been up to?” Mom thankfully changes the subject as she leaves
her chair and starts clearing the table.

“Just working
for Chastity.” I get up to help as Dad finishes off what’s left of
the green beans and hands me the empty bowl.

“We should
have her parents down again soon,” Mom says from the kitchen as I
come in.

Dani’s from
Thousand Oaks and her family’s just as wealthy as mine and are much
the same in nature, meaning they’re not snooty. When Dani and I
roomed together at UCLA, our families became fast friends which is
pretty cool.

“The marathon
is in May. I’m sure they’ll be there and you can invite them then,”
I state.

“That sounds
like a good idea,” Mom answers. “Okay, why don’t you get the pie
out of the fridge.”

“You made
apple pie too?” I ask, opening the refrigerator.

“It’s your
favorite.”

“You’re the
best, Mom.”

She amazes me
always finding time to do things. She doesn’t have to work but she
does as the office manager at Kyle Properties. Dad always teases
that he gets to fool around with the secretary to which I always
make a gagging sound at but secretly I love that they are the way
they are.

After dinner
Dad talks me into watching a movie with them. They cuddle on the
couch like teenagers and I know that’s what I want my marriage to
be like someday. It’s just finding the right guy out of all the
assholes that’s making it take so long.

“Button,” I
hear Dad whisper.

I wake up from
where I fell asleep on the couch while watching the movie. “Huh?
Oh. What time is it?”

“Almost
midnight. Why don’t you just stay here?” Dad suggests.

“No, I need to
get home. I’ve got a showing tomorrow morning,” I explain, standing
up and stretching before getting my purse.

“All right. Be
careful and text me when you get home.”

“I will,” I
say, tiptoeing up to kiss his cheek. “Tell Mom I love her.” She’s
passed out on the couch and I know Dad will pick her up and carry
her to the bedroom to put her in their bed. “Bye, Daddy. I love
you.”

I leave their
neighborhood and head home, opening the car window to let the crisp
night air wake me up a bit. It’s about a thirty-minute drive so
it’s not a big deal, and on the way I have Siri text Dani to see if
she’s home yet to which Dani answers, “Won’t be home until Monday
night. See you then!” I text back telling her to have fun then turn
up the radio singing along which helps me wake up.

Once back at
the apartment, I park in the garage and head inside to the lobby
through the side door. As I wait on the elevator I turn just in
time to see Heath coming in the front door.

Great.

I ignore him
hoping he’ll chat up Isaac who’s working the front desk and won’t
see me, but just as the elevator dings and I think I’m in the
clear, I hear him holler, “Hold the door!”

God.

I get in and
push the Door Close button twenty times in succession trying to
avoid him, which of course doesn’t work. Do those buttons ever
work?

Heath walks in
and I let out a defeated sigh. But, my lord, he has such a presence
about him. He’s tall and muscular and just seems to command
attention, which I choose to ignore, but it’s hard to do.

“Hot date?” he
asks with a snicker.

“You could say
that,” I answer still not looking at him.

“Must not have
been too hot if you’re home this early.”

“Yeah, well,
some of us have morals.”

He laughs. “So
that’s what they’re calling being frigid these days.”

This gets my
hackles up and I turn to face him ready to cuss him out when my
eyes go big because he’s got a black eye and a cut lip.

“What
happened?” I ask on a gasp.

He grins. “You
should see the other guy.” I stare at him and he shrugs. “I took
your advice.”

“What
advice?”

“You said I
should look into your uncle’s fighting ring.”

“And you
listened to me?” Ugh. Now I feel terrible.

He smirks then
grimaces a little because of the cut on his lip.

“You need to
get ice on this now!”

The elevator
doors open on our floor and I unthinkingly grab his hand pulling
him with me to my apartment. As I dig my keys out of my purse, I
look back up at him and cringe. “I can’t believe you.”

He follows me
in after I unlock the door and answers, “Just following your
orders.”

I put my purse
and keys on the table by the door and head to the kitchen feeling
like an ass for suggesting he fight. “I didn’t know you’d actually
do it!” I frown as I get the ice bag that Dani used once on her
ankle out of a drawer then open the freezer to fill it with ice.
Turning to take it to him I see he’s leaning against the bar.

“It’s not that
big a deal. I’ve had worse,” he shares.

“I don’t even
want to know,” I warn with a shudder. “Come lie down on the
couch.”

I hear him
chuckle but he follows and does what I tell him to do. I sit on the
edge of the cushion and lean in placing the bag on his eye.

“Is that
okay?” I inquire worriedly.

He nods
bringing his right hand up to hold the bag.

“Do you have a
headache? Do you need ibuprofen?” I start to get up but he wraps
his arm around me putting his hand at the back of my waist keeping
me there.

“This is good.
Just stay here.”

“I’m really
sorry,” I mumble.

“For?”

“For telling
you to fight.”

I see his
chest jumping as he silently laughs. His hand at my waist moves up
a bit, pushing my shirt with it then his fingers start gliding
along my bare skin. It feels nice and I know I’ve got goose bumps
from his touch alone. I also know I should stop him but I find I
don’t want to.

“Baby, not a
lot I do is because someone told me to,” he says quietly, his
fingers moving a little higher.

It feels nice
to have a man’s hands on me again. I sigh contentedly but then I
remember something.

“I need to ask
you a question,” I say.

He looks at me
with his left eye making me feel horrible again for suggesting he
fight.

“What exactly
do you do for a living?” I lick my lips nervously waiting for his
answer because if he tells me he’s an escort I think I might be
more disappointed than I should be.

His hand stops
moving and his eye narrows as he watches me. “What do you think I
do?”

I fidget a
little, bringing a hand up to push a lock of hair behind my ear
then I shrug. “Well, on the way home from the club, Dani asked if
you were a male escort and you said she couldn’t afford you. And
this morning, you were with a woman…”

He sits up
suddenly, his hand holding the ice bag moving to the top of the
couch back. His hand underneath my shirt slides up farther to the
middle of my back then he drops his forehead to my shoulder and
bursts out laughing.

I sit there a
bit stiff because of his familiarity with me but find myself
relaxing since it actually feels right.

He pulls back
and looks at me, still chuckling and shaking his head. “First time
I’ve laughed in a long time.” He leaves the bag on the back of the
couch and slips his hand under my hair and to the back of my neck.
His eyes crinkle at the sides with humor as he explains, “I’m a
construction project manager, Laney. My guys built the club and I
was there last night making sure everything was working right.”

“Oh,” I
whisper. I can’t hold back any longer and bring my hand up to
lightly touch the side of his face where his eye’s blackened. “Does
it hurt much?”

He shakes his
head and his eyes drop to my lips then slowly back up to meet mine.
We stare at each other for a moment, the air around us thick with
tension before he murmurs, “Fuck it,” and leans in brushing his
lips over mine.

My hand at the
side of his face drifts to the back of his head and I kiss him back
lightly, minding his cut lip. When I pull away thinking I’m
probably hurting him, his hand at my neck pulls me forward and he
suddenly crashes his lips against mine. I’m guessing it’s not
hurting him too much since his tongue now finds mine, tangling with
it agilely as he prolongs the kiss. I taste beer and moan because
that’s just hot, I couldn’t tell you why, at the same time his arm
tightens around me pulling me closer, his hand curling around to my
side where his fingers lightly skim against the side of my
breast.

Gah! I want
him so badly!

I lean back,
pulling him with me, our lips staying locked as he rises up to his
knees and then I’m lying flat on the couch, he’s on top of me and
goal accomplished. I wrap an arm around his strong back, my fingers
clutching at his t-shirt, my other hand is in his hair tugging
because it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone and I’ve
missed it. A lot. I’m sure he realizes this by now since I’m
practically devouring him.