Fight or Fall (25 page)

“Ava, you know I’m always at your side.” Her voice was comforting, honest. “I’m lucky to work for you, omeone who inspires me to do good things. Whatever you set your mind to, you can achieve it. I’ve seen it Ava. You graduated nursing even when your father made it almost impossible for you to graduate from college with your media commitments and even harder when you worked as a nurse.”

My father didn’t believe in the importance of a college education. He was a college drop-out, and if it wasn’t for my mother’s influence I probably would not have any college aspirations at all. She engrained in me the value of education. Maybe it was because her dreams of going to college were cut off when she became a model at such a young age, got married, and had me. She got lost in the lifestyle but tried to do right by me. I picked nursing because my best friend picked nursing. Those years in college were the most difficult times in my life – my mom getting into an accident, my father becoming a demanding tyrant, and the pressure of proving to myself that I could do it was enormous. Nursing school was tough but not because of the study load; for me, it was because of the many times I had to make up hours because I still had to fulfill my responsibilities to my father’s business’s even when I was in school. There were a few times that I almost got suspended for multiple absences and excuses. But I trudged on and worked my butt off to make up those hours. I was able to do it because of Brynn. She was my rock. She saved all her notes and helped me study for exams, even when I had to spend a few days in another country. We called it our long distance study group. My advantage was that I could process information quickly. Up to this day, she still doesn’t know the truth of my mother’s condition. Like everyone else, all she knew is that my mom has stepped away from the limelight and is now living in our seaside chateau in Normandy. It was the second secret I hid from her. I did it to protect her. The less she knew about my mother, the less she knew about my father.

“I’ll tell him, Daria,” I replied. Milo’s place was coming into view. I could see the dim lights on in his living room. “Thank you for covering up for me.”

“Be good to each other, Ava. Trust him enough to make the right decision for himself. He can’t do that if you won’t let him in.” Her advice rang through my ear. “Goodnight.”

Pressing the end button on my phone, I breathed in, gathering all the energy I had so I could tell him the truth. Daria was right. I have to let him in. Give him the benefit to make up his mind, just like I’ve told him how my father wouldn’t want me seeing him, for reasons I could only attribute to him wanting me to date his senator friend’s son, Milo would know what to do.

Parking behind his car, I walked up the steps and opened the side door. He’d usually leave it open for me so I could just let myself in.

I walked inside the house, leaving my shoes in the shoe rack I’d helped Milo choose a month ago at Home Inc. I caught a glimpse of the kitchen, the former guest room he’d turned as an extension of the gym, and the small nook area filled a display case of his swimming trophies and medals. Milo has taken care of his parents’ five bedroom, two level house. Brynn considered Arizona home now since Kieran was now training there full-time.

I found him laying on his back, a small couch pillow wedged between his right arm and his neck. His legs dangling over the arm of the couch because of his height. The dim lighting that the lamp from the small side table revealing the boyishness of his face, making him look relaxed, younger than his twenty six years, the phone clutched in his left hand, obviously waiting on me. His dark gray sweatpants were riding low on his hips, giving me an entirely unabashed view of his raw masculinity; the abs, the chest, the shoulders – sculpted by decades of keeping his body in top athletic form. He’s a light sleeper, so he must’ve been really tired to not have stirred by now. My unobstructed view of him in his most restful state, enabling me to just take him in.

He’s so strong. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. I had friends in school who turned into drugs, women, and reckless behavior when things went awry in their lives. Not Milo. Tragedy after tragedy, he’s survived them all. With his legs firmly planted and his spirit never bowing. When he did what he did to Kieran, I never once believed that he did it to spite Brynn. I’d always hung on to the image of him, that young boy who held my hand tightly when he found out his sister was cancer-free, that man who punched a guy for calling me a slut behind my back in school, and that athlete who never gave up even when the media labeled him as second best.

I made my steps lighter as I walked closer to him, seeing his eyes opening up, changing from dull green to a more vivid, deeper jade. Slowly removing his right hand from underneath the small pillow, his mouth turning up slightly. “Did you have fun tonight?”

Bending down so I could kiss the top of his dark head, I said, “I did.” He smelled of ocean water, musk, and him all in one.

He tugged on my dark green ankle fit pants, indicating that he wanted them off. I stood up straighter and stepped away from him. “Let’s go to bed.”

Now sitting up, he grabbed my legs and pulled me closer to him, his hands drifting inside my cream long-sleeved lace blouse, his fingertips wanting in my lace bra. “Miss me?”

I lowered my hands to his shoulders, kneading, massaging, loosening up the hard, tight muscles. “Of course.”

“How much?” He had deftly unclasped my bra and was now teasing my nipples with the pads of his rough fingertips, his mouth trailing a path around my navel.

“Take me to the bedroom and I’ll show you how much.”

Without further ado, he hefted me up in his arms bridal style, firmly planting kisses on my mouth as we entered his bedroom. It took him less than a minute to dress me up to his liking – which was naked – and then in a few quick seconds he stripped himself of his sweatpants and boxers. Inside the house, Milo barely wore anything which was fine, more than fine, with me. He was the most comfortable when he was shirtless and well, I was the most comfortable watching him shirtless.

When he entered me after donning himself with a condom, I was already slick and wet. Tonight he was gentle, extremely gentle with me. Milo’s my first. All the experiences I’ve had of sex, I’ve had it with him. Only him. I wasn’t shy around him. From the first time he had me with his fingers or in his mouth, he hasn’t pushed me into doing anything I wasn’t comfortable with. He was keen on my body’s signals, always watching me, stopping when he saw a tiny grimace, a flicker of pain or doubt. I had to reassure him many times that I was okay and enjoying myself. Doing everything with him, experiencing new heights of passion with him, discovering how my body can burn, ignite, and explode in his masterful strokes was everything to me. Since then, he didn’t hold back.

I bit my lip and moaned as I reached my peak and he let out a grunt as he swelled up and climaxed inside of me. He slowly removed himself from inside of me to dispose of the condom and came back with a small towel to clean me up. He was a consummate lover, giving himself to me, taking from me, but never hurting me. There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain. I’ve read books and I’ve seen movies that described how the production of pain, the use of force blinding pleasure, can stimulate orgasms. I wasn’t born in the 17th century. But as much as I know of how pain heightened the sexual experience, I know I’d never want that for me. Milo’s testosterone was undoubtedly off the charts. In sports, he lets it all out – the energy, the power, the aggression. In the bedroom, however, he’s attuned to my every need, my wanting to be savored, cherished, taken care of, as a woman, lover, sexual partner, an equal.

He’s a dichotomy.

Irreverent good looks, respectful to women.

Overall bad ass, great brother.

Raw male, gentle lover.

Fighter, protector.

Trust him enough to make that decision for himself.

Daria, as usual, was right.

We talked for a few minutes on how his day went and before he could ask me more about mine, I found myself yawning. Satiated and completely relaxed, he tucked me in his arms, keeping me safe in his hold, and I slowly drifted to sleep.

Tomorrow I’ll tell him.

Jeez, what time is it?

With blurry vision, I squinted my eyes to the clock against my wall. 7:30.

Fuck, I overslept.

I should have completed two miles by now. I blame it on my woman. She exhausted me last night.

Nah.

Where the hell was she anyways?

I really liked having Ava over at my place. I had no problems hanging out at her place, but I liked my gym here. So when I slept over, I left before the sun rose and we’d meet up later in the day. Her schedule varied. Sometimes she was really busy. Sometimes she was able to spend time with me the whole day. She’d said that it was a lot better now ever since she quit her per diem nursing job. She’d revealed to me that the day she came into my house, the day she screamed my ear off, the first time we kissed, was the day she put in her resignation letter to Nevada State Medical Center. She’d worked there for almost two years, but with all the increased responsibilities she had for her father’s company, she decided it was best to leave nursing for now.

Ava didn’t have to work. At all. She was born into a world of luxury. Her diapers had been probably covered in diamonds. I remembered seeing her mom when I was younger; she was a beautiful lady, who from head to toe looked like she came from money. Obviously Ava carried her mom’s genes and expensive taste, but she’s never been outspoken about how much things cost. When I gave her a box of Tic Tacs as a surprise, she had hugged me and kissed me as if I had given her a Cartier watch or earrings from Tiffany’s.

I’m not poor. I’ve enough money saved up to live comfortably, with or without my swimming sponsors. My car was fully paid for. It was the only luxury I rewarded myself with after getting a bonus from my former sponsor, WaterTech. I’d invested wisely, with the advice of Leif. He might talk shit about unnecessary things but he was mad genius in anything related to business. I called him my German W.B., short for Warren Buffet, obviously a younger, better-looking, and less intimidating version, but Leif has never steered me wrong in investments. His business acumen was worthy of respect. His crazy antics in and out of the pool, not so much.

The flood of video and text messages brought my thoughts to the present.

Reaching over the night stand, I sat up against the headboard. Ignoring my morning wood, a total waste since I had no idea where my woman ran off to, I scrolled through the messages.

6:52 AM Leif: Ur fucking old. You up yet? Prolly not. Drool on your pillow gramps. Happy birthday!

6:55 AM Jeff: I hear your back breaking all the way from here. Oh wait, that’s your ass…unable to control the release of gas. Happy birthday dude! Your gift is in the mail. You’ll get it sometime next year.

I grinned. What a bunch of assholes.

7:10 AM, a video message from my sister, I opened it up and there she was, in a light blue shirt that matched her eyes, her smile was big as she said, “Happy birthday to the best brother in the whole world. I’m sorry I’m not there to greet you in person. As you can see,” she moved the phone to show the background; the rolling greens, the tall, glass-paned buildings, the sun shining brightly, reflecting over the Coal Harbour, I’ve been there once for the Pan Pacific Meet, “we’ve arrived safely in Vancouver. Kieran’s competing in a few hours so he’s with his coach right now. He wanted me to tell you happy birthday.” Moving the phone’s camera to focus on her face, she continued, “I love you Milo. I wish you all the best on your birthday. I hope you got my gift. I promise to bake you your favorite chocolate chip birthday cake when you come to visit. Enjoy your day.” She lifted a small glass containing something bubbly inside. “Cheers to you, and say hi to Ava for me.”

I got a few more texts from college friends, Dia, even Daria, Ava’s assistant, all wishing me a happy birthday.

After sending text responses back, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and grabbed a shirt from my drawer before stepping out of the room.

Now where could Ava be?

I have no doubt she knew today is my birthday.

She hadn’t mentioned it at all which makes me suspect even more that she’s planning on something for me. The thing with Ava is, when she’s excited about something, she talks non-stop about it. So for her to not say anything about my birthday, she was putting up a smokescreen and trying to pretend that she didn’t know about it.

Wait, what if she had forgotten about it?

It’s alright.

As long as she spends the day with me, I’d be happy. She didn’t need to buy me a gift. Spending time with her was more than enough for me. In less than three months, Next Gen’s first fighting champion will be crowned. Along with three million dollars. As soon as I get that championship, I’m going straight to her father and telling him that whether he liked it or not, I’m with his daughter. The main reason why I wasn’t all up in arms about telling him right now was because of I was still under his claws; as long as I was fighting, he’d have something to hold over me.