Against the Ropes (6 page)

He lifts his head and his eyes blaze with sensual fire. “This may not have been the best idea.” His voice is low and husky, thick with need.

“Maybe not,” I whisper.

“Now what?” Jimmy interjects. “How do you get out of it?”

“I don’t think I want to get out of it,” Torment murmurs. His mouth hovers only an inch above mine, his breath dusting sweet promises over my lips.

Kiss
me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

“What the hell are you doing?” A woman’s shriek breaks the spell.

I twist my head back and catch a flash of pink and a mane of golden hair.

Pinkaluscious. And she doesn’t look pleased.

“We’re practicing grappling techniques,” Jimmy says as if Torment and I were not smoldering beside him. “You’re welcome to join us. I could use a partner.”

“Not you. Him. It looks like he’s having sex with her.”

Torment closes his eyes briefly and sighs. Then he pushes himself back to his knees. I shiver at the loss of his warmth.

“What do you want, Sandy?” Torment stands up and joins her at the edge of the mat.

I roll out of my compromising position and kneel on the mat beside Jimmy. Sandy’s glare turns my blood to ice.

“I need to talk to you.”

“You can see we’re busy.”

“With her?” She shoots me another glare so I shoot one back.

“With Blade Saw. Makayla is just helping us out.”

She winds her arms around his neck and presses herself up against him. “I need you,” she whinny whines.

He lifts her arms away and his voice takes on a soft, gentle tone. “Not now, Sandy.”

Not now? Not now implies what she’s doing is okay later. Not now means not in front of Makayla. Not now means not ever for me.

Pinkaluscious’s long, brown lashes fan over her rosy cheeks. She blinks her big, brown Bambi eyes at him and whispers, “Please. It’s important.”

Torment tightens his lips and gives her a curt nod. “Five minutes…if that works for Blade Saw and Makayla. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

We both nod our assent. Jimmy because he’s an easygoing guy. Me because my mouth has gone dry.

“Thank you.” She stands on tiptoe and brushes her lips over his, before clasping his hand and leading him to the door. Jimmy jumps up and follows behind them.

Nausea cramps my stomach, and I choke back a snort.

The sound draws her attention. Her eyes flick to mine and she looks me up and down, lingering over my physical imperfections as only a woman can do. She laughs, tosses her mane, and then trots away taking my hopes and dreams with her.

“Who is that?” I call out to Jimmy.

He mumbles something unintelligible and then says, “Girlfriend.”

My heart crashes into my stomach. I should have known. I’m no Amanda or Pinkaluscious. He really did want me here just to work. And the rest was what? A game?

I stomp back to the first aid room, pack up my stuff, and head for the front entrance. I’m not waiting around for more humiliation. But before I step outside, I freeze. How am I going to get home? Cabs are too expensive. Walking is too dangerous. It is Friday night and my friends will all be plastered and unable to drive. No way will I ask Torment. No. Damn. Way.

But I can ask Jake.

Always accommodating, Jake agrees to drive me home after he takes a shower.

Cowardice drives me to wait for him outside in the parking lot, where Torment won’t find me. Zipping my sweater to my chin, I lean against the cold, metal wall and fold my arms in my best “I’m not a hooker” pose.

“Hey, honey, you ride bareback?”

My best is clearly not good enough. Detaching myself from the hooker wall, I head over to Torment’s motorcycle for a good-bye caress. So beautiful. So shiny and sleek. My fingers brush over the seat where Torment sat, the handlebars he touched, and a shiny silver plate bearing the inscription “1 of 100.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

My head jerks up and my hand freezes in midair. Torment stalks across the parking lot toward me, his face a mask of fury. He has changed into his sexy, low-slung jeans and a pair of casual black shoes, but his chest is still bare, and heaving as if he’s just been running.

Hands shaking, I back away from the motorcycle. “I…I was just saying good-bye to your Agusta. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have damaged it.”

“Not the bike,” he shouts. “You. Why are you out here alone?”

So loud. So angry. My throat freezes, and sweat trickles between my breasts.

“Well?”

“I could do without the shouting.” I twist the bottom edge of my sweater in my hands and stare at the ground.

Torment draws in a ragged breath and lifts my chin with his finger, tilting my head back. I can’t meet his gaze, and I turn my head away.

“I told you, it’s not safe for you to be out here alone.” His voice softens. “You should have waited for me inside.”

“Jake is taking me home.” I swallow hard and shove my hands in my pockets.

Torment frowns. “You don’t need to go home with Jake. I said I would take you home after the fight. You helped me out. It’s the least I can do.”

Duty. Nothing more. Despair and disappointment war over who should crush me first.

“Jake has to go past my house to get to Amanda’s place, and you don’t owe me anything. Rampage gave me the check for tonight. And…um…I won’t be back, so we’re good.”

I force myself to look at him. Confusion fills every line and plane of his face. “Why?” he asks softly.

“Because I’m not the kind of girl who likes to play games.”

Mercifully, the door bangs open and Jake bounds into the parking lot. “Sorry I took so long. Ready to go?” He gives me the wide, easy smile Amanda couldn’t resist. This is the kind of guy I should be going out with—nice, friendly, easygoing. Instead, I’ve been wasting my time lusting over a mercurial fighter with a sexy girlfriend.

Torment’s eyes narrow. Jake takes a step back.

“Is it okay if I give Makayla a ride home?”

“We’re not finished here.” Torment’s voice is perfectly controlled, but anger simmers just beneath the surface.

“We are finished.”

“No, we’re not.”

I sigh. “We are. I hope you don’t have too much trouble finding someone else.”

I pivot and follow Jake into the parking lot.

This time, I don’t look back.

Angry girls don’t bounce

I am jolted out of a fitful sleep by a loud banging on the front door and the grating sounds of heavy equipment. My clock flashes eight o’clock. Who the hell gets up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning?

By the time I find my bathrobe and stumble down the hallway, my housemates are already in the foyer.

“What’s going on?”

Rob hands me an official-looking piece of paper. “We have a new landlord, a company called Legacy Holdings. They’re renovating the property starting today. They’ve arranged for us to move to the Sunset View Apartments on Lake Merritt while the renovations are being done.”

Jennifer staggers back against the wall and slaps a hand to her chest. “No way. Those apartments are insanely expensive. I went out with a guy who rented there. He lived on the twenty-fourth floor. The views over the Bay are amazing. They have a doorman, a fitness center, and a sauna.”

Doormen and saunas sound expensive. “Do we have to pay more rent?”

Rob reads the rest of the document. “Nothing changes. We pay the same rent. And they are splurging for three apartments on the same floor. Carlos and I are in one. Jennifer and Ashley are in the other, and you get your own place.”

“Seriously? My own apartment?”

Rob hands me the papers and I skim over the boring legal bits and dive straight into the important stuff. Yup. My very own apartment, fully furnished, and my rent doesn’t change. Not only are they putting us up during the renovations, they are sending a moving truck for our personal stuff today at noon.

Too bad this didn’t happen a day earlier and Torment could have seen me living in style. But I will not think about Torment. I will not remember the feel of his soft warm lips as they sucked ice cream off my finger. I will not remember his chiseled pecs or his smoldering eyes…or the deep rumble of his voice…or the feel of his hard body pressed up against mine…or the way my core tightens when he touches me. He is gone. Forgotten. I have already moved on.

Dr. Drake is easy on the eye. He has a nice smile. Nice body. Very nice teeth. Not much in the way of a dangerous persona, but he seems to like me.

I will have lunch with him on Monday.

I hope he likes picnics.

***

Nine hours later, my first housewarming party is in full swing. My luxuriously furnished, one-bedroom apartment on the twenty-third floor of the Sunset View Apartments buzzes with activity. While Jennifer and Carlos mix cocktails with their friends in the high-end kitchen, I grab another glass of champagne from the bar and head over to the balcony to catch up with Amanda.

My path takes me through the random assortment of boyfriends, girlfriends, friends with benefits, and soon-to-be one-night stands clustered in the center of my open space living area. A pang of loneliness grips me. Why am I always single at parties—the best friend, housemate, filler, or stand-in? Why am I never the one making out in the bedroom or chatting to the guests as my boyfriend slings a casual arm over my shoulder and whispers sweet nothings into my ear? What’s wrong with me?

“So, what happened with Torment?” As always, Amanda gets straight to the point. I lean over the railing, soaking up the view of San Francisco Bay, and steel myself for her interrogation.

She pokes me in the side when I am not immediately forthcoming with information.

“I thought I’d finally get the ‘don’t call me in the morning’ text after you texted me about your afternoon picnic and your motorcycle ride.”

A warm breeze ruffles my hair, bringing with it the fresh scent of the ocean and an unwanted memory of my cheek pressed up against Torment’s jacket when we raced around the bay on his Agusta.

“You must have missed the text where I said he just wanted me to work.” My third—or is it my fourth?—glass of champagne is a little too sweet and a little too fruity, but I gulp it down just the same. Some nights call for a little extra indulgence, and this is one of them.

Amanda’s laugh tinkles in the still of the night. “I didn’t believe it. I saw the way he watched you when we left the club last week. When you told me he tracked you down at the hospital with a picnic in tow, I knew he was into you.”

“Well, your instincts were wrong this time,” I snap. “He has a girlfriend. That over-processed blonde who was prancing around in pink Latex. I call her Pinkaluscious.”

Amanda snorts champagne through her nose. “Catty. Not like you—which tells me you like him.”

I shake my head. “He isn’t really my type. Too violent. Too rough. Too dangerous. He probably hangs out with unsavory biker dudes. I’m better off sticking with my usual.”

“Bland.”

“What do you mean by that?” I take another sip of champagne. Gah. I’ll have to switch to something harder—something to numb my brain and erase all my memories of yesterday.

“The only guys you ever go out with are boring, dull, and safe. The kind of guys parents love. Ryan? Yawn. Phil? Dull as ditch water. Mike? He was so innocuous I can’t even remember his face.” Even your friend Charlie, who you had the sense not to date, is the same. Nice and dull.”

“They’re the only ones who ask me out.” I stare out into the night. Lake Merritt glimmers below us—an inky black stain surrounded by twinkling lights. So pretty. If I owned a place like this, I would spend all my time just looking at the view.

“Not true.” Amanda raps my knuckles with her finger. “You forget we’ve been friends since we were four. I’ve seen the guys you lust after, but the minute they express any interest, you run away. Remember Timmy Jones?”

“He put a dead frog in my lunch box.”

“Jack from high school?”

“He set my locker on fire.”

“How about Dan from first-year biology?”

“He tried to turn me into an anarchist and start a revolution.” I turn to face her. “And Timmy doesn’t count. We were in first grade.”

Amanda sighs. “My point is, the edgy, dangerous guys you liked all wanted to ask you out, but you ran away before they got a chance.”

My fingers curl around the cold, iron railing. “Well, this time I got blindsided by a pink Barbie doll. Just leave it. I don’t need to be psychoanalyzed. And it doesn’t matter. I’m having lunch with Doctor Drake on Monday, and he’s definitely not bland—well, at least not physically.”

“I thought you said he touched you inappropriately.”

“It wasn’t so much inappropriate as it was…protective.” I graciously give Dr. Drake the benefit of the doubt.

“Protective or possessive?”

“Doctor Drake doesn’t want to possess me.” I fold my arms and give her my best scowl.

“Not since he lost the pissing contest.”

“What pissing contest?” Amanda always forgets her experience with men vastly exceeds my own. Vastly with a capital
V
.

Amanda rolls her eyes. “The one you told me about. Torment and Doctor Drake, sniffing each other out, trying to establish who was top dog.”

“It wasn’t like that. It was just about lunch. And it wasn’t really a contest—”

“I don’t imagine it would have been,” she interjects. “Torment is as alpha as they come. Drake probably ran off with his tail between his legs.”

“Doctor Drake was just being friendly. Charlie says he likes me. He’ll be good for me. Everyone thinks he’s gorgeous. He’s you but a man.”

“Mmm.” Amanda twists her lips. “Then he’ll be amazing in bed.”

“Who’s amazing in bed?” Jake comes up behind Amanda, wraps his arms around her waist, and nuzzles her neck.

Sigh.

“You are, baby.” She grins and wiggles her ass against him.

Jake whispers in her ear and Amanda blushes. For all her feigned indifference, she really likes him. More than any other guy I’ve seen her with. Much more.

“Makayla was asking me about Torment,” Amanda says. “Help her out and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Amanda!”

She gives me a wink and turns in Jake’s arms, planting little kisses along his jaw.

“What do you want to know?” He squeezes her ass and she squeals.

“Name, rank, and serial number,” Amanda murmurs against his lips. “Current girlfriend. Day job. Gossip. That will do for a start.”

Jake moans. “No can do. He’s an intensely private person. If he found out I had spilled his secrets, he would kick me out. Privacy is such a big thing to him, he set up Redemption as an invitation-only club. Even the spectators are screened. They have to have a connection with someone in the club and they have to sign a nondisclosure statement before they are put on the list to receive texts about the events. And it works. Most people don’t even realize he has a real job. They think he works at the club full time. “

Amanda’s eyes narrow. “He has a secret identity?”

Jake shakes his head and swallows. “I didn’t say that. Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“And you know who he is?”

He looks at the floor and shuffles his feet.

Poor guy. She will stop at nothing to get that information from him. He does not even understand the hunger of the beast he has unleashed. He’ll be lucky to escape with his tongue intact.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I almost trip over my feet to get away from them. I step back into the apartment and check my texts. Torment’s name shows up on my Caller ID. Unable to resist, I open the message.

I need you at the club tonight

Ha. I’m sure you do. And that’s all you want from me.
I quickly type a response:

No. Sorry. Busy

What are you doing?

I’m having a party **dances** **drinks**

Without me?

Don’t even think about guilt-tripping me.
My thumb wavers as I type. I’ve definitely had enough to drink.

U have club things 2 do. Like hurting people

Is the doctor at ur party?

My eyes widen. Is he jealous? Why? He has Pinkaluscious. Why does he care if Dr. Drake is at my party? Should I lie and say yes?

“Sorry, Mac. Jake wouldn’t tell me anything.” Amanda joins me in the living room and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

Just what I need. An expert. I hand her the phone.

Amanda reads the messages and gives me a curious, sideways glance. “Mention the girlfriend.”

“Why?”

She laughs. “Just a hunch. Work the girlfriend into the conversation. I’ll bet he shows up at your door in less than half an hour.”

Amanda has never let me down, especially when it comes to men. Trusting her instincts, I send my text.

No doctor here. Just me and friends and lots of drinks

I want to see lots-of-drinks Makayla. Come to the club

2 much violence

I have ice cream

My hands shake, and a giggle erupts from my chest. Maybe if I wasn’t so drunk I would find him less amusing.

Give it 2 Pinkaluscious

Who?

Your girlfriend **frowns**

After waiting five minutes for him to respond, I hand the phone to Amanda and let her read the new texts. She tells me not to text him again. For the next ten minutes, I conduct tests on my phone to ensure it is still working by forcing everyone at the party to text me. Another ten minutes pass by and I finally give up. He isn’t going to respond. And why would he? If it was a game, he knows he’s been found out.

“Someone hit me over the head the next time I express any interest in a man.” I throw myself into the black, leather chair beside Rob and steal his bowl of calorie- and fat-laden chips.

Rob laughs and reaches behind him to turn up the music on the insanely expensive sound system that comes with the apartment. “With pleasure, darling.”

Half an hour and an entire bowl of chips later, the low-pitched, high decibel rumble of a motorcycle from the street below cuts through Gotye’s sad and highly appropriate “Somebody That I Used To Know.” A pathetic hope unfurls in my belly, and I immediately quash it down. He has a girlfriend. Why would he come looking for me?

A light breeze blows across the balcony and through the open windows, ruffling my hair. Gotye’s voice warbles behind me, and I imagine the motorcycle’s engine quiets to a soft, steady, low rumble. Or is it my imagination? My heartbeat quickens. Self-destructive curiosity claws its way through my belly.

Cursing myself for my stupidity, I leave Rob and step onto the balcony. Amanda and Jake are entwined in the corner. Taking a deep breath, I clutch the railing and look at the street below.

Oh. My. God. I know that motorcycle. And I know that tall, powerfully lean, mouthwateringly tight body dismounting the seat.

For a moment, I can only stare. Stunned.

“Amanda,” I gasp. “It’s him. Torment is outside.” A huge grin spreads across my face and I suck in a breath. He’s here. He’s here.

Amanda detaches herself from Jake and frowns. “How did he know your new address?”

“Rob put a sign on the door at my old place.” I narrow my eyes. “You knew he would go there and find it empty.”

Amanda shrugs. “I thought he deserved it after what he did to you. I didn’t know about Rob’s sign.”

My lips tighten into a thin line. “I’m going to call the doorman, and tell him to send Torment up.”

“Don’t let him in,” Amanda snaps. “You told him no. He came anyway. Men like that need boundaries. If you don’t set them at the beginning, he will never know where the boundaries are and he’ll walk all over you. It takes a very strong person to build them in the middle of a relationship. If he’s interested, he’ll ditch the girlfriend and come looking for you. I guarantee it.”

“Maybe he just needs someone to handle first aid tonight,” I say.

“Stop biting your nails.” Amanda slaps my hand away from my mouth. “And stop bouncing. I thought you were angry with him. Angry girls don’t bounce.”

But excited girls do. And what is more exciting than being hunted down by a devastatingly handsome tattooed fighter with a heartwarming laugh?

Amanda studies me and sighs. “Even if it is about work, my previous advice stands. Don’t let the two-timing bastard in.”

Jake strokes his hand down her hair. “I don’t think that’s good advice. I know Torment. If he had a girlfriend—and I think I would have heard about it—he wouldn’t be here. He’s not that kind of guy.” He looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “You saw him at the club, Makayla. What do you think?”