Fighting Silence (15 page)

“What?” I mouthed to him, confused. I mean, Till didn’t exactly love when I talked to or dated guys, but he usually just ignored it. The same way I did when we ran into other women who obviously
knew
him. We were friends—nothing else. However, the inferno brewing in his eyes said otherwise.

He shook his head and turned to Slate, whispering something in his ear.

“No,” Slate said loud enough to be heard over the chatter of the crowd.

Till shrugged and started bouncing on his toes and pounding his gloves together.

Within seconds, the bell rang and I jumped to my feet.

“Let’s go, Till!” I screamed, causing the couple in front of me to turn around in disapproval. I didn’t care. We were at a boxing match, not the library, and above that, my man—er . . . something like that—was in the ring.

The first round flew by. When the bell rang and the fighters moved to their corners, I glanced down to find Derrick already sitting and scrolling through his phone. His arm was still firmly planted around the back of my chair. I hadn’t torn my attention away from the fight, so I couldn’t be certain if he had watched at all.

“Wow. That guy can take a hit,” I said, flopping down.

“Yeah. Till’s gonna have to do way better than that,” he snarked, not looking up from his phone.

“Umm, he totally won that round in points.” I snapped and his eyes finally rose to meet mine.

A slow smile crept across his face. “Oh, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Of course he won that round. He just needs to be careful not to tire himself out. That’s all.” His hand moved to my back and he soothingly rubbed my shoulder. “Till’s got this, I’m sure.” He winked, and my cheeks heated once again.

I physically felt the moment Till’s eyes once again found me. It might have been because of his angry gaze, but more likely, it was because Derrick had chosen that exact second to reach up and tuck a stray hair behind my ear. He too was well aware that Till was watching us.

I dragged my attention away from his hypnotizing, blue eyes just as the bell sounded. I barely made it to my feet before the fight was over. With three punches, Till forced “The Brick Wall” to crumble. The ref hadn’t even finished counting when Till started using his teeth to remove his gloves. Slate might have been shaking his head in the corner, but he was smiling while doing it.

Till didn’t linger to bask in his victory. He quickly disappeared. It took several more minutes for them to get “The Pile of Bricks” off the mat, but eventually, he walked out of the ring to what could only be described as a polite round of applause. The only obvious injury was to his ego.

The next bout was in the second round when Till suddenly climbed from the row behind us and into the chair beside me. Before he had even settled, he shoved Derrick’s arm off the back of my chair, replacing it with his own.

Derrick looked around me in absolute disbelief, but Till didn’t even acknowledge him.

“’Sup, Doodle,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just pissed a semicircle around me.

Men were ridiculous. So instead of arguing, I reached back, removed his arm, and decided to play it casual too.

“You dropped that guy! Nice job!” I offered a high-five.

He tossed me a side smile and smacked my hand. “It’s no big deal. He wasn’t as good as people built him up to be.” He sniffed, trying to play it off.

“Oh, shut up. He was good and you destroyed him,” I said, calling his bullshit and causing his smile to grow.

“I know, right!” He squeezed just above my knee.

“Stop!” I burst out laughing while trying to pry his torturous hand away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, faking concern while continuing to tickle my leg.

“Till! Please!” I folded down in the chair, using both of my hands to unsuccessfully stop only one of his.

“You okay, Doodle? You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

I continued to laugh, all the while threatening his life under my breath. I finally resorted to violence by punching his thigh with my knuckle.

“Damn,” he cussed, rubbing his leg, but he did release mine.

“I seriously hate you sometimes.”

“No, you don’t.” He dropped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to his side for a brief hug, but it wouldn’t have been Till if he didn’t complete the piss circle by kissing my temple.

Derrick cleared his throat, reminding me that he was, indeed, watching our little tussle. We might have been twenty-one, but we pretty much always acted like we were thirteen again. Some things never change.

“Sorry,” I said to Derrick, embarrassed for having acted like a giggling fool.

He smiled warmly and opened his mouth to speak, but Till got there first.

“Hey, Q’s in the dressing room getting wrapped. You want to come with me to wish him good luck?”

“Yeah!” I all but jumped out of my seat.

I could watch Flint and Till fight all day long, but I still thought of Quarry as such a little boy, so I was a bag of nerves. And Till knew it because he’d spent half of the morning laughing at me as I’d tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Quarry to give it a few more months.

I stood up without another thought of the sexy, blue eyes on my other side.

Till guided me through the crowded gym with a hand planted securely on my lower back. I’d long since stopped reading into his every touch. That had become way too time consuming over the years. But just because I didn’t dwell on his advances didn’t mean I’d stopped throwing my own. Just as he pressed his hand to urge me forward, I seductively arched my back. I honestly couldn’t help myself. He let out a loud grumble, but I couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t like it or if, even worse, because he did.

A few people stopped to congratulate Till on his big win, but eventually, we made it back to the dressing room. My nerves calmed as soon as I saw Quarry sitting on a table in only a pair of boxing trunks. Slate was standing in front of him, taping up his hands.

“That’s just gross. You have muscles!” I cried out teasingly.

“You like what you see?” Quarry flexed his arm, showing off a tiny, yet totally defined, bicep.

“Are you smuggling grapes, Q?” I joked, and his smile grew.

“I could ask the same question to your bra,” he responded, and my mouth gaped open.

“Hey!” Till and Slate scolded at the same time.

“What?” he yelled innocently. “I was kidding. We were just joking around. Tell ’em, Eliza.”

I was afraid that, if I spoke, the laughter I was desperately trying to suppress would leak out. “Yeah. Joking. Totally.”

I bit my lip and turned to Till, who had his hands planted on his hips. Because I’d been fully expecting him to be pissed at Quarry, I was surprised to see that his shitty attitude was aimed at me.

“What’s that look for?”

His shoulders flexed as he cracked his neck. “I don’t want you talking to him anymore.”

“And here we go,” Slate mumbled from across the room.

“Uhh . . . who? Quarry?” I asked in shock.

“Derrick. I don’t like him, and I sure as shit don’t want you anywhere near him.” He narrowed his eyes at me, taking me aback by this sudden attitude.

It was unusual for Till to be an ass to me, but it wasn’t exactly an anomaly. I knew exactly how to handle him.

I very calmly pasted on a patronizing smile. “Well, I didn’t know that,
Till.
Perhaps it would be easier if you made me a list of who I’m allowed to talk to,” I said condescendingly as I dug into my purse and pulled out a sketchpad. Dramatically, I licked the end of the pencil before poising it over the paper. “Or wait. A leash might be better for full control over who I’m
near.
I’m sure we could temporarily rig one up with a jump rope or something. Please just let me know what works best for you.” I popped an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Quarry told Slate as they started laughing behind me.

“Don’t give me that shit, Doodle. I don’t like him. He’s a self-centered, arrogant prick. ”

“Oh, well, you should have just said that, then. I already have one of those. I don’t need another,” I smarted off.

“Burn!” Quarry whispered, but neither Till nor I shifted our focus.

“Seriously?” He crossed his arms to match mine.

“I don’t know. You tell me. Are
you
serious with this crap?”

He sucked in a breath through his nose. It was angry going in, but he held it until he released it on a resigned sigh. “Look. I have never once asked you not to hang out with someone. Never. You make your own decisions about guys, and no matter how big of a douchebag they are, I keep my mouth shut. But I can’t bite my tongue here. I do not like that guy. It makes my skin crawl that you are even on his radar. We’re family, right? Well, family watches out for each other. So, Doodle, I’m
asking
you. Please. Stay. Away. From Derrick.”

I held my attitude for a few seconds longer, but it wasn’t because I was still mad. Rather, if I spoke, I knew I’d start crying.

We’re family.

There was no way he could truly understand the depths of what those words meant to me. I swallowed hard, trying to force the emotions back, and for once, I actually succeeded.

“Okay.”

His head snapped back as if I had slapped him. “Um . . . okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. If you had started with that explanation instead of being all bossy, this conversation could have been a whole lot shorter. I get it. You don’t like him. I’ll steer clear.”

Till smiled, and it reflected on my own lips.

“Besides I’m in a very committed relationship with Justin Timberlake right now. ”

“Good. Keep it that way.” He cupped the back of my neck and pulled me up against his chest.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him as his hand slid up and down my back.

Till and I both knew we had a strange relationship. It was more than a friendship, but there wasn’t romance or sex. There was definitely love though. Immeasurable amounts of it. I knew that Till had this grand fantasy about me. But what he didn’t realized was all that he gave me in return. He was the only thing I’d ever had that I honestly thought I couldn’t live without. Till Page was my soulmate on every level. I’d accepted that it didn’t have to be sexual between us. Truth be told, I’d have been happy to sit in an empty room for the rest of my life as long as he was sitting beside me.

But it was moments like those, when his arms were protectively folded around me, and his heart beat a strong rhythm in my ear, that made me want
more.

“I NEED TILL TO SIGN this paper for school,” Quarry said as I opened the door.

“Uh, okay? He’s not here.”

“Really? His truck is here.”

I glanced out into the parking lot, and sure enough, Till’s truck was parked front and center. “I haven’t seen him at all today, actually.”

“Well, he wasn’t at the gym this afternoon either. Slate drove us home.”

“And you checked his room?”

“No. But I didn’t hear him come in. He must have snuck past.”

I headed back to my room. “Till?” I yelled at the ceiling. But I didn’t get a response. “Till!” I yelled again.

“Yeah.”

I heard his voice, but it wasn’t coming from the ceiling. “Where are you?” I looked around my room.

“Purgatory,” he slurred then began to laugh.

I traced his voice to the window, but when I lifted it, I didn’t see him anywhere. “Till?” I called again, getting frustrated.

“Jesus. Stop calling my name.”

I leaned outside and found him sitting on the ground with his back against the brick exterior of the building. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, and a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag was at his side.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you. I’m sitting in purgatory. And they say I’m the one going deaf.”

“Oh, well, that clears things up,” I said sarcastically. “Quarry was looking for you.”

“Fuck.” His voice broke as he began frantically scrubbing his face with his hands.

His reaction instantly worried me.

“Give me a second. I’m coming out.” I shut the window and ran back to the door, where Quarry was still waiting. “I found him. He’ll be up later.”