Blind (Senses Series Book 1) (5 page)

Chapter 9

Logan

This is fucking ridiculous. I feel like there isn’t even going to be a goddamn fight with the way I’m feeling. I’m just gonna end up ramming my fist through the guy’s ribcage and it’ll be over in record time, leaving this power surge of adrenaline coursing through my body.

I. Hate. This. Rage. Nothing good comes from Kellar men when we are in this state.

“Dude, you’re a little high strung for Fight Night.” Luke points out from his usual post against the wall opposite of me.

At this point I’m pushing against the wall, a stress reducing technique I heard mentioned on a T.V. show once.

It’s not fucking working.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I groan and push the wall harder, shutting my eyes.

“Man, you’re not fine.” He continues to ramble.

I wish he’d just shut his mouth.

“In fact, now that I think about it…you haven’t been fine all day. It’s like you’re…
frustrated
.” My hands drop from the wall as I turn to give him a shut it look. He doesn’t take the hint or doesn’t care to. “Which doesn’t make any sense since part of pre Fight Night ritual is tapping some ass. Unless…”

“Are you done?” I shake out my limbs hoping he’ll change the subject.

“You didn’t get laid last night did you?”

My silence is my guilty plea.

Not a word from you.

“Holy shit!” His excitement makes me wish he weren’t basically family so that I could pound him for a pre fight warm up. “No wonder you’re wound up tighter than a three year old’s toy car fresh out of the box.” I flex my fingers.
Do not hit Luke. He is your best friend
. “So what happened? Couldn’t get it up?”

“Do I look like I have trouble getting it up?” I stretch my neck from side to side.

On the record. Never had that problem.

“No, but you don’t look like you have trouble getting laid either.”

That remark sends more adrenaline pumping through my veins. This fight isn’t gonna last long, which isn’t what I need. I need that fucking burn. I need something to take the edge off.

“So?” Luke asks.

“So what?”

“So what happened?”

I stop bouncing on my toes and shrug. “I don’t even fucking know.”

“Explain it to me.”

“Called up Kimmy—”

“Isn’t that Liz’s roommate?”

“Yeah.”

He looks mildly disgusted. “Really?”

“What can I say? It’s an easy household.” The remark causes him to pretend to gag as I continue. “Called her up. She wanted to get a drink, so I met up with her. After she had a couple, we went back to her place, started making out, and when she was ready for the next step I just…couldn’t. So I gave her a finger bang and bounced.”

“What do you mean you just couldn’t?”

“I mean I just couldn’t. She was hot. She was horny, but I just…wasn’t in the mood I guess.”

Wasn’t in the mood? What the hell am I, a girl? Do you even believe this bullshit? What dude do you know that needs to be in the fucking mood to get his dick touched?

I grab the back of my neck with both hands and pull. I know exactly what the fuck was wrong with me. All I could think about was Maxx and how smoking hot she looked in Erin’s little navy blue dress. The way her tits looked like they were desperate to be freed into my mouth. The way the dress would sneak up her thighs, giving your eyes directions to follow it as it crept upward towards her tight ass. And the fact that she was the girl I wanted straddling my lap. The recall of her outfit has my dick threatening to rise.
I swear you greedy son of a bitch, if you pop up now, no reward for a fight well done.

“Ah.” His face does that thing I hate again. Smug bastard.

You stop looking smug too.

Before he can continue, there is a sharp knock on the door. Annoyed, but grateful that our conversation is cut off, I call, “Come in.”

Two male faces I’m not familiar with appear in the doorway. One is tall, skinny, dark haired, and pale. He looks like someone from the BBC channel. Damn Maxx and her British show obsession. The other is slightly shorter, tan, skinny, and with shaggy hair that reminds me of someone from MT.V..

Yeah. I think you’re right. I watch too much television.

“Can we help you?” My arms fold across my bare chest.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the British looking one speaks. “I’m Tony, Frank’s new tech guy, and this is Stuart the photographer. Frank wanted us to get a couple warm up shots of each of the fighters to post online.”

Tony. So this is the asshole who thinks he’s worthy of my best friend. Not at all what I pictured. The sight of him causes me to tense more. What the hell does she see in this sheepish looking asshole? He’s nothing like me.

Wait. That’s the point isn’t it?

“Sure.” I remain professional. Extending my hand for each of them to shake I introduce myself, “I’m Unbreakable.”

After a quick shake I look over my shoulder at Luke whose mouth is agape. What the hell is his problem? Confused I clear my throat instructing him to speak up. To my surprise it takes an extra minute for him to catch on.

“I be Luke. I mean Luke be me. I mean, Luke I am.” The ramblings out of his mouth as he fumbles to extend his hand for Stuart to take are frightening. I’ve seen Luke in various states. Smug because he’s right. Smug because he thinks he’s right. Smug because he’s taken. Smug because he’s single. But this babbling idiot routine is not on the list.

“Your father,” Tony finishes the sentence and chuckles slightly under his breath. I stare at him not responding. Clearing his throat he quickly tries to explain, “You know, from Star Wars?”

Oh yeah. Because I’ve never seen Star Wars.

“I know. Just didn’t think it was funny.”

It wasn’t. Don’t pretend because you think you like him more.

“Serious before a fight?” Stuart speaks up again and Luke doesn’t say anything else. “Should make for some great shots.”

“Every picture of me is a great shot.” The cockiness in my tone is followed by Stuart raising his camera.

Fact.

“Just continue your routine as normal. Pretend we’re not even here,” Tony says pulling out his cell phone.

I wish he wasn’t here. And you. You stop looking at him like that. The guy’s a loser.

“No problem,” I sneer and turn back around to begin ghost jabbing, another way I like to loosen up my muscles.

A faint sound of heels catches my attention and apparently Tony’s as well because he turns around just as Erin is passing by. Quickly he stops her and whispers something low that makes her giggle.

Loudly she says, “Don’t worry lover boy. I’ll tell her.”

She doesn’t even bother shooting me a look, a mission clear on her face.

Lover boy? What? She’s on his side now too?

I clench my taped fingers tighter as I sketch Tony’s smiling face into my brain. It doesn’t matter that I’m fighting T-Bone tonight because the face that I’m going to see my knuckles cracking into a million pieces will be the one that just passed a secret message to my biggest cheerleader.

Chapter 10

Maxx

“Take off your underwear,” Erin demands.

Pulling down the dress I refuse. “Absolutely not. It’s bad enough that I have to wear this see through thing on stage in front of all those people, but now you want me to take off my underwear? What? Do I have Kardashian written on my forehead?”

“First off, you’re the one who insisted on wanting the black and white zebra print dress.” She refers to my Ring Side Girl ensemble that happens to be a halter dress with a pair of black heels that are going to kill my feet while I run around making sure everything is perfect tonight. “You had other choices, but nooooo. You wanted to be a zebra.”

I look at her leopard print mini skirt and off the shoulder top.

Clearly this is punishment for actually thinking I could have something to do with wardrobe. Lesson learned.

“Second, because you’re wearing the see through dress, it’s going to be worse when the lights come up. Trust me. So drop the panties and let’s roll. You should be on stage in three minutes.”

With a stomp of my heel I growl, “Fine!”

While I wiggle out of the barely there thong I was wearing anyway she smirks. “I saw Tony by the way.”

“And?”

“He was lurking in the backroom with Logan.”

Paranoia strikes me quickly as I pick up the underwear. “Why?”

God I hope he’s still breathing.

“Looked like him and Stuart were grabbing a few photos. He wanted to tell me he couldn’t wait to see what you were gonna wear to blow his mind.”

A hint of a smile crawls across my face as I stroll over to my locker where I slide the underwear into my gym bag that’s inside. He’s been texting me almost all day, most of the time cute little sayings like that. I actually kind of like it.

He’s making me act girly. Is that bad?

With confidence, I grab my signs and hand my phone to Erin to hold onto until after my little performance. Once I’ve done my small role, I have to do a couple of bar checks to make sure the specials are going, check how we’re doing on crowd control, decorations, and that everyone is genuinely enjoying themselves. However, at this point, according to Frank, we’ve been almost at capacity since long before the fight, something that hasn’t happened since they first opened.

My heels click up the stairs as the DJ starts a rap song that I actually somewhat enjoy, making it a bit more fun to walk out into the ring where I see a crowd full of people dressed in their best jungle gear. Guys in camo, guys with face paint, and girls in animal prints. I strut out with my sponsor sign high in the air.

“And coming to the ring tonight. He’s mean. He’s lean. He’s what’s for dinner! They call him T-Bone!”

Note to self: Help DJ write better introductions.

I lower the sign and signal for T-Bone to plant a kiss on my cheek. Judging by the small pouch on the front of his stomach, I’d say T-Bones are all he eats, maybe alongside some potatoes and beer. Instantly he strolls over and rubs his rough beard against my cheek before planting a wet one on me causing the crowd to cheer wildly.

They wouldn’t be cheering if they’d just had that ogre rubbing his face against them. Neither would you.

Lifting my sign back up I switch it over as the D.J. announces, “He may twist! He may bend. But he does not break! The one, the only, Unbreakable!”

I proudly hold his sign up high and the cat calls along with the girlish screams from the audience accelerate tenfold.

I’ll give Logan that. He’ll always be the crowd favorite. And mine. Yours too by now.

Without looking over my shoulder, unsure that I can handle the look on his face tonight, I tap my cheek the same way for him on the other side.

Propping myself up in a seductive way against the posters, I prepare myself as his hand lands on the small of my back. In my ear in a very stern voice he whispers, “My backroom as soon as this fight is over.” And his lips slip onto my cheek leaving a trail of smoke behind.

That may have all happened in the blink of an eye for you and the crowd but for me, it was like a chopped and screwed rap song.

I do my best to stay calm, and in character as I like to think of it, and strut off stage while a few guys from the crowd seem sad to see me go. I’m slightly sad to see me go too. I don’t know what it is about being in the ring that makes Logan feel comfortable saying shit like that to me, but I sure the hell wish it would carry over.

***

When the sound of the crowd’s cheers erupt so does my heart shooting straight into my throat. I’m pacing back and forth in Logan’s backroom.

What the hell could he want? I mean really? To tell me I should wear underwear on stage? I tried! He’s probably just going to give me a warning lecture about mixing business and pleasure. You know what? He has no right to! No right to lecture me! And you don’t either!

I told Erin I had to slip away for just a few and to cover for me if someone came looking, but I don’t know why I bothered. Conversations with Logan lately have been record timing short.

Series of grunts, okays, yeahs, and sure things kind of short.

Suddenly the door creaks open and a very sweaty, very tense Logan is staring at me. My eyes drink in his six foot plus height, his deep tanned features, those muscles that are concrete proof of hours on end at the gym, and his piercingly deep blue eyes that are fixated on me in an unfamiliar way. It’s heated and not in the angry fashion.

Are you as confused as I am?

Using the heel of his foot he kicks the door closed with a loud clunk and whips me around so that my back lands against the wall with a heavy thud. I let out a gasp but before I can finish, his lips are mounted on mine.

Oh shit!

Every other part of Logan is solid like a steel wall except his lips. They’re rough yet soft. They’re a beautiful contrast to the rest of him. And by the way he is aggressively sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, I would say he probably knows it.

As much as I don’t want this moment to ever end, hell I’ve dreamed about this happening to me since I was 14, I’m not sure if it’s real or if it should even be happening.

Wait. Why is it happening?

My hands go to push against his chest as a warning to stop, but get caught by his. His fingers cover my wrists and pin them above my head as his tongue swipes across my top lip demanding entrance. Wish granted. Logan’s tongue wraps around mine and a small groan escapes out of him. As the kiss continues, my tongue welcoming his with open arms, his body shifts and he lets go of my hands, so that his can further explore. My bottom lip gets caught between his teeth and a small whimper escapes me, shooting straight to the wetness growing heavy between my thighs. Like he knows that’s what’s happening, Logan shifts a hand under the side of my dress and up my thigh to where my underwear once was.

When he finds there’s nothing there he pulls slightly away on a pant to growl, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Too shell shocked to say anything I manage to shake my head, and whimper again as his lips pounce mine once more, hungrier than before. How is that even possible? Logan’s fingertips creep over towards my hot spot when the sound of the doorknob turning causes him to shoot away from me like a jolt of electricity.

“There you are!” Stuart sounds relieved.

How do I breathe again?

“I was worried you left and I’d have to wait until tomorrow to get the shots up.” He looks back and forth between Logan, whose face looks calm, though at the rapid rate his chest is rising and falling, I know that’s not true, and me who probably looks sexed up because I basically just was.

I totally just was!

Stuart carefully speaks again. “I’m sorry, was I interrupting?”

My eyes flicker to Logan unsure of what the fuck just happened. Instead of giving him the power to answer, I take it into my own hands. I know this conversation needs to be back burnered until we get home.

“Nope. Let’s go look at those shots.” I peel myself off the wall and pull my dress down, the puddle between my legs is so bad that I don’t know how I will get anything done without thinking about how Logan’s touch is burned into my skin.

I don’t even know how I’m walking straight right now.

With one more glance over my shoulder, I see a small smirk on Logan’s face that if I had blinked I would’ve missed. Confidently, I put a little extra wiggle into my walk knowing where his eyes are.

***

A couple hours later, after running around all night like the entire place could burst into flames at any given moment, I am thankful to be headed home with Erin driving.

I’ll level with you. I hate driving in general. I know how to, but it’s just one of those things that I don’t enjoy. Thankfully the rest of my friends do, and we typically all seem to be headed the same general direction.

With my high heels in my lap, I nibble nervously on my bottom lip trying to listen to Erin tell me about how much she hates one of the female bartenders and that she’ll have her fired.

Erin is strongly opinionated, which you’ve gathered on your own by now, and for the most part it’s a great thing. Unless she doesn’t like you, and then it’s like being on God’s shit list. Expect wrath. Expect it full force.

While her problems with the heavy set bartender are important, so is the fact that I’m moments away from a life changing thing. Logan kissed me tonight.

No. Don’t do that. He really kissed me tonight. Not a brotherly sisterly peck. You were there! You saw it! It was a full-fledged, let me fuck you against the wall kiss. The thought causes a familiar ache between my legs. God, I would’ve let him fuck me up against the wall. Sh. Keep any judgments to yourself please.

“I swear she doesn’t even talk, she moos.” Erin continues as we get out of the car, our bags swung over our shoulders. She looks as perfect as she has all night. I look like I could just fall over at any second.

“She’s not that big.” I find myself defending the girl.

I don’t like her either, but I get what it’s like to not be the skinny one.

“She’s only a couple sizes bigger than me.”

“If by couple you mean to the power of, then yeah she’s a couple sizes bigger than you.” She slides the key into the lock.

Erin can get quite crabby after a long night of work. As you can see.

“It’s not even about her size really. I don’t have a problem with heavy set girls, but let me dress you to accent your features and focus attention in the right places. It’s my fucking job ya know? Let me do my job! I don’t tell you how to produce milk.”

“Erin!” I snap, laughing at the comment as we head down the hallway straight for an unexpected sight on the downstairs couch.

My body freezes in place suddenly unresponsive. I know I should scream or yell or stomp off, but the shock of it all has managed to stick me to the very place I am standing.

“Are you kidding me?” Erin huffs putting her hand on her hip.

Logan pulls his lips off of the girl who had his tongue’s attention while the girl that was sucking on his neck looks up as well, both have sex stoned faces planted on them. As their hands continue to paw at him, he cocks a grin at Erin not even acknowledging me.

“We have rules!” She storms into the kitchen. “You conduct your jungle experiments in your room!”

When his eyes finally land on me they’re more lifeless than they’ve ever been. I’m familiar with this Logan. This is the look that checks in when life starts to get too meaningful. When life starts to show promise that he doesn’t feel he deserves. It’s the same look he had at his mother’s funeral. The one that shows any signs of love, are burned and buried.

This. Logan. Breaks. My. Heart.

“I know Erin,” he sighs, his eyes leave mine as I feel a couple tears itching in the back of my throat.

Do. Not. Cry. Maxx. Don’t shed a goddamn tear. Not right here. You don’t wanna see me cry do you?

Arrogantly, Logan says, “What can I say? We got a little sidetracked.”

“Yeah well, take the monkey twins upstairs.” Erin’s reference could be to the brown outfits with tails they are wearing or the fact they have lanky arms that would be perfect for swinging from trees. With that comment she starts spraying all three of them with a squirt bottle filled with water.

“Oh!” the girls squeak and scurry towards the stairs as Erin continues to spray.

She hits Logan several times in the back of the head. “That’s a bad dog!” Squirt. Squirt. “Very bad dog!”

Normally, I would laugh uncontrollably.

It’s okay that you are. I promise. I know the situation is very comical. I also know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest, shown to you, and have someone have sex on top of it.

“Not quite what you had in mind when I said I’d make sure you girls got wet huh?” Are the last words we hear Logan say before he shuts his bedroom door and the door to any possibility of a conversation with me.

Be hard to talk with his tongue tied huh?

“Great,” Erin groans looking at the couch with disgust. “I’m gonna have to Lysol that. You know girls like that carry fleas.” When the joke doesn’t get a laugh out of me she gently nudges me in the side. “You okay?”

Knowing there’s no way I’m in the mood to talk about the meaningless kiss we shared a couple hours ago, or the fact that afterward I had to watch him paw the string bean twins who barely looked legal enough to drive let alone drink, I just shake my head and put on my faintest smile.

I know you can tell it’s not believable but it’s the best I’ve got right now. Deal.

“Yeah I’m just exhausted. I guess it finally caught up with me. I’m gonna crash. See you for breakfast?”

“Yeah. Maybe Luke will make pancakes. God I could eat some pancakes.” She begins to fantasize and I snicker.

“Where is Luke?”

“Still at the bar I guess.”

“He usually beats us all home.”

“Yeah. He was acting strange tonight.” She seems lost in a thought but gives up on it. “Anyway, sleep tight.”

“You too.”

Slowly I ascend the stairs to what feels like the Walk of Shame. At the top I hear loud over exaggerated moans from the girls, which causes me to scurry down the hall faster.

At least I pray they are over exaggerated.

Once my door is shut behind me and my bag is on the floor I nail my head against the back of the door. This fucking sucks. Is this what God calls balance? ‘Hey Maxx, you get your dream job and a chance to kiss your dream guy, but at the end he’s gonna have a threesome you weren’t invited to, sound good?’ No! NO IT DOESN’T SOUND GOOD!

A steady buzz coming from my bag causes me to stop yelling in my brain. Pulling out my cell phone I check the text.

Tony: Is it tomorrow yet? I’m dying to hang out with you again.

I stare at the words for awhile emotionless. Maybe I don’t like Tony as much as I should right now, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way.

You know what? There’s no way in hell it is.

Me: I know what you mean. Lunch date tomorrow instead?

Tony: Done. You pick the place and I’ll meet you there.

Me: Reese’s Burgers at noon.

Tony: Can’t wait.

Me: Me either.

Tony: Sleep well beautiful.

Me: I will now.

I know it’s a fucking lie, but shut up.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight.

Sorry that was rude. It’s not fair for me to take my anger out on you. Please don’t leave me. Not yet. I really don’t want to be alone tonight.