Authors: Simone Scarlet
Chapter Twenty Three
Ava
It was cool and dark as Ava and Brandon stumbled out of Charlie’s steakhouse.
They were both fine to drive, but the alcohol had loosened them up sufficiently to talk more bluntly than they would have done otherwise, and Brandon wasn’t sure he liked it.
“If you
love
somebody,” Ava said, wrapping her arm around Brandon’s elbow as they walked towards the parking lot, “you support them.” She looked up at Brandon, who towered over her. “You know what Clark was doing when I first met him?”
“I don’t even know what he does now,” Brandon admitted.
Ava ignored him.
“When I first met Clark, he was working in a bank,” she told him. “He was
miserable
. He used to dread getting up in the morning, and by the time he dragged himself home at night, he was already depressed about how he’d have to get up and do the same shit twelve hours later.”
Brandon listened silently.
“So one day, I asked Clark what he wanted to do – and he told me: He loved comics. He’d loved comics ever since he was a little kid.” Ava hiccuped. “Fuck, his dad even named him ‘Clark’ after Clark Kent.”
“I had always wondered about that.”
They were standing at their cars now, but Ava didn’t let go of Brandon’s arm. Instead, she just looked up and kept talking.
“So I asked Clark, What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail? He told me he wanted to sell comic books. He used to do it as a hobby, on eBay – but he told me that if all his dreams came true, he’d be doing that full time instead of the bullshit at the bank.”
Brandon listened silently.
“So I told him to go for it,” Ava continued. “I told him to quit his job, and do the comic thing full time. And I damn near killed him because of it.” She smiled nostalgically. “I swear, we ate fucking Ramen noodles for six months until he got his stupid comics business off the ground… But you know what?”
Brandon shook his head.
“Clark
made good on it
,” Ava told him. “After a few months, he started finding some really rare comics and making good money on them. And then he started a website selling comic book shit – action figures, t-shirts. Next thing you know, he was being invited to comic conventions as a guest blogger. Within a year, he was making as much as he ever did at the bank.”
Then Ava turned and patted the hood of her late-model Buick Enclave.
“And this year? He bought me
this
with the money he made on a mint copy of
Amazing Fantasies #15
.”
When Brandon stared at her blankly, Ava explained, “It was the first comic with Spiderman in it.”
Ava looked up at Brandon’s brown eyes. They were narrowed and thoughtful. He was silent, as if cogs were turning inside his head.
“Brandon, if somebody loves you, they let you follow your dreams. Shit, they
make
you follow your dreams.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand.
“If Mia says ‘no’ to this, you have to start asking yourself
why
.”
Brandon didn’t know what to say. He just stared down at Ava, and she looked back up at him expectantly.
Eventually, when his silence dragged on uncomfortably, Ava asked, “Are you okay?” She bit her lip. “Did I go too far?”
Brandon snorted, and shook his head.
“No,” he admitted. “I think you went just far enough.”
He stared down at her, and she stared back. And they kept staring, long after it was appropriate to turn away.
And Brandon took it as a sign.
Reaching down, he grabbed Ava’s slender shoulders, and pulled her in for a kiss.
And, this time, she didn’t pull away.
She felt his powerful lips on hers, and his fingers tighten around her shoulders. She swooned, closing her eyes and opening her mouth to him. He pulled her in closer as she surrendered to his kiss.
It was amazing.
Ava hadn’t kissed anybody except Clark in almost a decade – and she and Clark hadn’t made out like this since before Harley was born.
The feeling of being in a big, strong, intimidating man’s arms, and surrendering to his kisses was intoxicating. The shot of whiskey and the beer hadn’t made Ava drunk – but the heat and wetness of Brandon’s lips on hers did.
Eventually, reluctantly, Brandon pulled his lips away.
Ava looked up at him, eyes bright and cheeks red.
“W-wow,” she breathed.
“I’m sorry,” Brandon let go of her arms, as if she was burning hot. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Ava reached over and squeezed his hand. His huge, bear-like paw felt so massive in comparison to her slender fingers.
“No,” Ava reassured him. “Tonight it was fine.” She squeezed his hand. “Tonight, I wanted it too.”
At that, Brandon took a ragged gasp, and pulled his hand away.
“I-I’ve got to get going,” he stammered, and headed to his car.
“Is everything okay?” Ava called after him, as Brandon pulled open the door and slid behind the seat.
Shit… Had she ruined everything? Why was he running away?
But then Brandon paused, half in and half out of his car. He looked up, and his eyes flashed.
And then suddenly he was back – out of his car, striding across the asphalt between them and throwing Ava against her Buick with a
thump
.
He crushed his lips against hers. His big hands slid around Ava’s waist and squeezed. He dominated her, snarling as his lips writhed against hers.
Ava practically swooned. She felt so small, and tiny, and helpless compared to this big, strong man – and yet, at the same time, she felt powerful because of his obvious desire for her.
Brandon reached up and squeezed one of Ava’s big, full breasts through her v-neck shirt. Ava’s panties immediately flooded.
Pulling his mouth away, Brandon’s smoldering brown eyes bored into hers, and he murmured: “This is wrong.”
But he kissed her again – and kept on kissing her until Ava’s phone chirped and, reluctantly, she pulled her mouth away to glance at it.
A text message, from Clark.
CLARK
Where r u?
Ava read the message, and suddenly felt a lancet of guilt through her gut. She’d been mad at Clark earlier, for being late and missing half her class.
But that had been three hours ago – and now she was being crushed up against a car, making out with a big, sexy man who was a decade younger than her.
She didn’t want to go. In fact, she wanted to see just where this was going to take them.
But she had to.
Turning back to Brandon, Ava placed her palm against his cheek, and said: “I’m sorry.”
Brandon nodded, and stared into her eyes. “I understand,” he said. And, for a moment, Ava realized that this was the sort of stunt Mia probably pulled all the time.
“Are we cool?” Ava asked. “When I bring the kids to the karate center tomorrow…”
“We’re cool,” Brandon nodded. “We’re
always
cool.” And then he stole another kiss from her. “Until we decide not to be.”
Ava smiled. She’d been wondering if this was a one-time thing.
“It’s okay,” Brandon squeezed her hand. “I should get going anyway. I have a busy day tomorrow.”
He smiled wryly at the gorgeous housewife.
“Tomorrow, I have to sign up for a fight.”
Chapter Twenty Four
Brandon
“Brother, you’re not going to regret this.”
It seemed like Vinnie had been saying that ever since he’d come around with the paperwork.
As Brandon sat at his desk, reading through the small print of the MMA fight contract, he swore he’d have paid off the entire karate school debt if he’d just got a nickel for every time Vinnie had promised, “You’re not going to regret this.”
But for once, Brandon suspected Vinnie was right.
The contract was straightforward, the venue was in Atlantic City, not too far away, and Brandon had three weeks to prepare.
“They’re pulling this whole fight out of their ass,” Vinnie explained. “When they had to shitcan Hannibal Alexander, they needed an addition to the lineup for that weekend – and so that’s why they’re rushing this.”
“It doesn’t give me much time to prepare.”
“That’s plenty long enough,” Vinnie promised. “Especially if all you’re after is the five grand for showing up.”
As Brandon signed the bottom of the contract, he mused about his chances in the octagon. He’d seen his opponent-to-be, James MacDonald, in a variety of fights. He was tall, fast and powerful. As good as Brandon knew he was – or, at least,
had
been – he would have his work cut out for him.
“This is great,” Vinnie took the contract, and stuffed it into his briefcase. “I’m going to go and deliver these this morning.” He reached over and placed a hand on Brandon’s burly shoulder. “You’re not going to…”
“Regret this?” Brandon rolled his eyes. “It’s too late for that now anyway. I’ve signed the damn contract.” And then he shook Vinnie’s hand, and watched the skinny Italian march out of the karate center.
It was done.
Leaning back in his chair, Vinnie stared at the rows and rows of trophies on the wall opposite.
It felt weird to suddenly be back in the sport that he’d been so passionate about growing up. It was like surrendering to his destiny – like the years he’d spent at law school, and running the character center, had just been a bump in the road.
But while he was excited to welcome MMA back into his life, Brandon had a hard question in front of him: Whether or not MMA would welcome
him
.
Chapter Twenty Five
Brandon
“You did
what
?”
Mia was not happy.
In Brandon’s defense, he hadn’t expected her to be.
She’d turned up at midday to teach her afternoon class, and the first thing Brandon had done was call her into his office to tell her.
After all, he’d rather she found out from him than from the MMA posters and commercials that were going to start circulating.
“How
could you
, Brandon?” Mia snarled, loud enough for the office door to rattle. “I told you
absolutely not
. I couldn’t have made myself
any more clear
.”
Brandon was standing at his desk, towering over her. But even though Mia was like a skinny twig in comparison to the bear-like karate instructor, she had a way of making him feel small that only a Jewish mother could pull off.
“I thought…” Mia leaned closer, and whispered: “I thought you
loved
me.”
“I
do
love you,” Brandon growled, grabbing her shoulders. “But I
need to do this
.”
Mia shook off his grip. She backed away, snarling.
“All you care is about what
you
want, Brandon Broderick,” she snapped. “Well, if this school is more important to you than me, so be it.” She yanked open the door to his office, and snapped: “Tell my students class is cancelled this afternoon – and
every
afternoon until you change your stubborn mind.”
And then she was gone – storming out of the karate center like a skinny little hurricane. Brandon watched her go with guilt gnawing in his belly. Part of him was tempted to run out – to grab Mia and promise her whatever it would take to make her stay…
But then he remembered what Ava had told him: That if somebody loves you, they let you follow your dreams.
They
make
you follow your dreams.
And winning this money? Saving his karate center?
That
was his dream – and it was like a kick to the gut that Mia couldn’t see that.
But more than that: Mia had just walked out on him – leaving him in the lurch. Here he was, hurting for money and
desperate
for people to sign up to his school, and Mia had thrown him under the bus.
In a few minutes, students for Mia’s cardio kickboxing class would start filtering through that door, expecting their lesson. And while he could teach the class, that would leave the front desk unattended, the phones unmanned and everything else a mess.
Snarling, the big fighter ran his fingers through his thick black hair. And then he had a brainwave.
The one person he knew he could rely on.
Reaching for the phone, he snatched it up and dialed the only person who’d truly been there for him recently.