Totaled (13 page)

Holy God in heaven. He’s beautiful.

He had headgear on, obstructing his face, but his body was on full display. His only clothing was a pair of tight spandex shorts that looked like they were painted over him. His thighs were thick with defined muscles cut like a statue of a Greek god. His quads and calves were flexed as he flitted around the ring on his toes, a bounce in his steps. His abdominals were impeccable. An eight pack of thick, bulging muscles were lined up perfectly and my eyes couldn’t help but trace them further and further down into the dented V of muscles leading underneath his shorts. His chest was wide and proportionately built to the rest of his body, with pecs so defined I could see the individual striations in the muscles banding across from the center out, moving and flexing as he threw punches or deflected blows thrown his way. He had a tattoo of some kind on his chest over his heart, but I couldn’t make out what it was from my vantage point. His arms were huge and perfect and my thoughts wandered into imagining just what it would feel like to have such massive muscular arms wrapped around me. While their size alone was impressive, the way he held them cocked back and flexed, ready at any time to deliver a lethal blow, was dangerous and sexy. His tan skin was glistening with sweat and I suddenly felt thirsty, like it was me who was sweating. I had never looked at another fighter this way, at a man this way, and it made me uneasy and edgy.

“You like what you see?” I heard beside me, making me jump in surprise.

Fucking Brock Woods! Of course.

“I can put in a good word for you if you want in on that action,” he offered as I turned and walked back to the office, rolling my eyes.
What a douche.

I felt flustered and anxious, but not because I was just caught staring—I could easily play that off as just observing the fight like as everyone else was doing. But I felt like I was a nervous, lovestruck teenager. Hot flashy. Out of breath. Stomach cramping. Sweaty palms.
What in the hell is wrong with me?!?!

I told myself right then and there that I had to stay away from the new guy. This could be trouble that I didn’t want or need right now.

***

DREW

Liam was exhausting me in a good way. I’d never been this evenly matched before and it felt amazing. But I’d been at it since 8:00 am and if I was going to be able to walk tomorrow, this shit needed to end soon. Getting him back to the mat was my only hope, since he was so quick on his feet. With a spin move and leg sweep, I kicked his shin just hard enough to knock him off balance and seize the opportunity to pin his body down flat. I hammer-fist punched his head until I felt his right leg flare out slightly, giving me just enough of an open window to penetrate. I forced my left knee down between his legs and switched my hand hold to angle my body almost perpendicular to his, allowing me to grip his right leg into mine. I reached around with my left arm and locked in, squeezing as hard as I could. I was looking for the submission and it didn’t take long to get it. If that was only Liam’s fifty percent effort, I had some work to do.

Pat rose from his stool, clapping, and walked leisurely over to the two of us, both now sprawled, face up, on the canvas. Standing over us, he looked down wearing a shit-eating grin and said, “Nice work, boys. I haven’t been that entertained in a long while. Get cleaned up and we will see you both here tomorrow. Take the morning off to rest up and meet here at one.”

Chapter Fourteen

BREE

I had put Sue off for as long as I could. If I didn’t go over to her house and explain, she was going to show up at mine, obnoxious and demanding answers. Still a little rattled from watching the sparring session a couple of hours prior, I brought two bottles of wine over to relax with. I didn’t even make it half way up the sidewalk before Sue opened the door and yelled, “Get your ass in here, Slugger!”

Oh, Lord, this is going to be a long night.

We meandered into the kitchen and I sat on a barstool watching her unpack my grocery bag of goodies, unsure of where to even start. After smoothly and efficiently opening a bottle of wine and pouring two heavy handed glasses, she handed me one and said, “Well? What the fuck happened?”

“I was at the gym by myself two days ago, getting things set up and cleaned. A guy came in through the front door, but I didn’t hear him because I had my earphones in, blasting music. He startled me, I freaked, laid him out, broke his nose, ran into the office, and called the cops. When they got there, he was already gone,” I spewed out, just wanting to forget about it already instead of rehashing every single detail.

“No, no, no. I don’t think so. You don’t get to just ignore me for two days and then think you’re going to get away with breezing through this juicy of a story and think I’m going to accept that. I want it all. Every. Last. Detail. Now, try again,” she insisted, already refilling my wine glass.

So I told her everything…every detail that I could remember, from what song I was listening to (and embarrassingly dancing to) to how great it felt to make contact with the heel of my hand and actually feel bones crunch underneath it. I told her how I ran away and locked myself in the office until the cops came, how unreasonably rude the cops were to me, and how I forgot to call Liam and Dad. I told her how scared I was and how humiliated I am now that I know he wasn’t even trying to hurt me at all.

“What do you mean, now that you know he wasn’t trying to hurt you? How do you know that?” she asked.

“Oh, this is where the story gets really good. He came back to the gym yesterday and met my dad. He wanted to apologize to me for scaring me, but I wasn’t there. Apparently he’s an amateur heavyweight MMA fighter and joined the gym to train with my father all summer,” I revealed, waiting for her to pounce.

“Are you kidding me? Who is this guy? Where did he come from?” she asked, shocked.

“He isn’t from here, he just moved from Arizona,” I replied. “And he’s apparently really good. Dad’s really excited about him. I’ve never seen him like this. How in the world am I going to be able to work there and see him every day? I’m mortified!”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s tough enough, if he’s a fighter. He’ll get over it. What does he look like? Is he cute?” she asked flirtatiously.

Laughing nervously, I took another sip of my wine, and then another, and then I gulped the remainder of the glass down, the liquid burning my throat as I slugged it like I was chugging a beer.

“He just might be the single most attractive man on the planet,” I said firmly, with a straight face, looking right at Sue.

“Oh my God. You’re totally drinking his Kool-Aid,” she said, smiling and shaking her head back and forth.

As if I didn’t even hear her, I just started describing him. “He looks like he should be on the cover of a muscle magazine. His entire body is built and cut, not just his chest and arms. His legs are the most beautifully perfect legs I’ve ever seen. And his ass. Dear God, his ass is one you just want to sink your teeth into…”

“Jesus Christ!” she interrupted. “Who are you and what have you done with Bree?”

“I’m not kidding Sue, he’s like, the most perfect male specimen I’ve ever seen in person,” I confessed.

“Wait. What? When did you see him again after you kicked his ass?” she asked as it finally sank in.

“I saw him sparring with Liam this afternoon. They’re in the same weight class. I stayed way back so no one would see me and just watched them. It was amazing. He’s amazing. He fights like a well-oiled machine, like it’s all just fluid and thoughtless for him. He made it look easy. I probably actually had drool on my shirt,” I joked, snickering at how ridiculous I sounded.

“How did you feel about seeing him fighting Liam, though?” she asked, switching her tone to a serious one.

“At first, that’s why I went out there, out of worry, because I heard that Liam was in the ring, but when I got out there and saw the new guy, it was just…different. It was like I had tunnel vision and I could only look at him. I could only watch his every movement. When I finally snapped out of it and walked away, I felt like I was on fire. I couldn’t catch my breath. My palms were sweaty. My face was hot. My—”

“Your panties were wet?” Sue interrupted, teasing me.

“Don’t joke about this! I have no idea how to handle this situation. I’m just going to try to ignore him and pretend nothing ever happened,” I said, feeling flushed. Just thinking about running into him face to face, in combination with the wine, was making me feel on fire again.

“You can’t ignore him forever. You work there and he’s going to be there every day training. Plus, you’re completely in lust with him,” Sue joked again, enjoying my embarrassment for her entertainment.

“I’m glad you’re getting a kick out of all this. I’m about to have a full on panic attack,” I responded. “I’ve never lost it over just seeing a guy before.”

“Well, apparently this isn’t just some guy,” she said, uncorking the second bottle of wine.

We sat there for another two hours, trying to figure out the best way to handle the whole situation. She tried to listen as I rambled on and on, sounding more like a high school freshman with a crush than a grown woman. She tried to give me advice, but mostly just made joke after joke at my expense. She encouraged me to flirt with him, which I immediately and adamantly refused to do.

“I
do not
want to date a fighter! And this guy is potentially going to be Liam’s training partner and my father’s new project. It could get messy if I got involved with him and it turned to shit,” I said. “Plus, we haven’t even officially met. For all I know, he could have a girlfriend. He could be a complete dick. Or only have five brain cells firing. Or have some awful speech impediment. Or horrible teeth and bad breath. Or he could just be completely not interested.”

“We shall see,” Sue sing-songed.

We lay there on the couch of her living room, talking, until I could barely keep my eyes open. Establishing that I’d definitely had too much to drink to drive home, I agreed to crash there.

Please God, let him not be interested
, I thought to myself as I drifted off
, because I don’t know if I have the willpower to resist him if he is.

Chapter Fifteen

BREE

As I opened my eyes, I was met with a throbbing head, the worst cottonmouth ever, and a feeling of complete exhaustion, but I still felt like I had to get my run in. Luckily, I always kept a bag in my car with a couple changes of clothes. It was only 6:00 am, but I’d committed my mind to doing it, so I tiptoed past Sue, still asleep on the couch, and retrieved my workout clothes and sneakers from the trunk of my car. Quietly coming back into the house, I went to the bathroom, splashed water over my face, braided my hair back, and changed clothes. I drank a big glass of ice water and thanked the Lord above for the ibuprofen I found in Sue’s kitchen cabinet. After jotting her a quick note, I was soon on my way to the north end of the beach. A few nice, relaxing miles up and down the beach were the perfect way to start today.

Parking my car in a spot in the farthest north beach access ramp, I got out and walked down the wooden deck to the sand. I tied my car key on my shoelace and quadruple knotted it. I looked up and down the shore, seeing not a soul, then took a deep breath and took off jogging.

***

DREW

My first thought when I woke up was that I had to call Mick. I jolted out of bed and threw on some basketball shorts and a tank top. I grabbed the entire half-gallon jug of orange juice and headed out onto the back deck with my phone. I selected him from my contacts list and hit the call button eagerly, wanting to just blurt out everything all at once. Joan was the one that answered after the third ring. She said that he was out in the backyard feeding the horses.

“Do you want me to get him for you? I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. We’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, wondering how things had panned out,” she said sweetly.

“I’ve been thinking about you guys a lot too. Everything’s going really well. Perfect, in fact. If it isn’t too much trouble, I would really like to talk to him, Joan,” I said.

“Sure thing, hun, let me call him in here,” she replied.

I heard her yelling out for him to come up for a phone call. It took a few minutes and finally I heard him say loudly and a little out of breath, “Mick here!”

“Mick! How the hell are ya?” I asked.

“Well, I’ll be damned. If it ain’t the disappearing Drew Dougherty! Been wonderin’ ‘bout you,” he said, laughing.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about leaving the way I did. I don’t really do goodbyes. But please don’t misunderstand, I am so appreciative for everything you did for me. That’s why I’m calling, actually. I’m in Fernandina. It’s amazing. And perfect. I found a great place to stay right on the beach, the gym is great, and I’m already training with Pat. I’m just so happy you told me about this place,” I thanked him.

“That’s great, son. I had a feelin’ it would all work out. I knew Pat would be all over you like a duck on a june bug. Tell me about yer place.”

“It’s beautiful. Oceanfront. So relaxing. I saw a ‘For Rent’ sign driving around and got it for a steal. It’s got four bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms. You and Joan should really come see it. I would love to have you visit,” I offered with excitement.

“Well, I am coming into town next week for the shrimp festival. Joan could care less, so she usually stays home, but I’d be tickled pink to come crash your bachelor pad. Are you sure it won’t be a burden?” he asked.

“Absolutely not. It’s the least I can do after everything you did to help me. I’m indebted to you forever. Anything you need, Mick. I mean it,” I insisted sincerely.

“Just stock yer fridge with sticks of butter and some cocktail sauce. I’ll be there on Thursday night and probably stay ‘til Sunday, unless you get sick of me sooner than that,” he joked.

I listened to Mick talk all about the shrimp festival and how much of a tradition it was for the town. He sounded like a kid at Christmas. Just as he was going into a story about pirate ships, I gazed out onto the water. My eyes spanned the horizon and the calm morning waves smoothing out the sand, looking left to right at my beautiful backyard as Mick rambled on and on. I got distracted by a girl running down the beach. She was running north, towards my place, and looked like she was sprinting, running for her life. But when I looked closer, she appeared to be wearing workout clothing and had earphones in her ears. Suddenly Mick sounded less like Mick and more like the adults in Charlie Brown cartoons. All I could focus on was this girl; it’s like she was a mirage or something.