Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance (15 page)

“Hmm.” I grunted and she smiled again.

I listened to her walk down the hallway, and all I could think when she shut her door behind her was how, ever since I first told her about Jenny, she’d been saying the same thing ever since.

Keep holding back on what I want and how I feel and I will only be hurting myself.

I
was
at the gym again.

It was a ritual of ours—Oscar, Otto, and me.

Every single day of the week unless we had to work. But none of us did on this day. I spent three hours in Animal House in the morning, before the sun came up, three hours at night when the sun went down. I hated Flex’s gym. Even though I could get in for free, I refused to work out in a place under his rules.

That’s how much I despised him—to the point that I would throw out $36 bucks every month rather than attend his gym like the rest of the fighters.

Otto was working on bicep curls with 80-pound dumbbells.

Oscar was doing abdominal work, huffing like a maniac in a marathon—up and down, toe touches, penguins, all of it.

I’d just finished a set of cable crossovers, and as we all worked out, a group of girls walked by, giggling and smiling.

Otto flirted back of course, but as always, I didn’t pay them much mind. Oscar would look, but he’d never smile back or anything—nothing to lead anyone on. He was picky… and honestly I think he was too afraid to interact.

“Dude, your phone keeps buzzing.” Otto dropped his dumbbells, moseying towards my bag.

I released the D-handles on the cable machine, the loud clanking of the metal catching him off guard. He stopped making his way towards my stuff, holding his hands in the air and laughing.

“I wasn’t going to check your shit. Chill,” he antagonized.

“Yeah. Sure.” I picked up my cellphone, unlocking it and reading through the messages.

I
tried hard not to
, but I couldn’t help the smile that twitched at my lips.

Otto stepped in front of me, one eyebrow cocked. I looked up and Oscar was no longer doing his abdominal work on the mat. His knees were drawn up near his chest, his elbows resting on top of them.

They were both staring at me.

“What?” I snipped, frowning.

“What the hell are you smiling at?” Otto probed, grinning way too hard.

“None of your damn business,” I mumbled, replying to her messages quickly.

“It’s gotta be Jenny,” Oscar laughed.

“Dude, it has to be!” Otto stepped to my side but I shut the screen off, backing away.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you never fucking smile, man. Why do you think we were staring?” Otto gave an obvious look, narrowing his eyes.

“Because you two are lame as fuck,” I responded.

“Repeat that in the cage,” Otto challenged, throwing his fists in the air and building a stance.

“Why? So he can beat your ass?” Oscar busted out in a laugh.

I looked at Otto as if he’d lost his damn mind. He was only kidding, but it was so funny to see him try and challenge me.

He always did it as a joke, but he and I both knew if it came down to it, he wouldn’t win. It’d been proven dozens of times when we were younger… when we were
forced
to fight.

Dropping his arms, he sighed and picked up his dumbbells again. “But seriously? Is that the Jenny chick?”

“Might be.”

“What was that shit last night with her running out and you chasing after her?” Oscar asked.

I shrugged, picking up one of the round iron weights off the stand. Lying on the bench, I started my first set of reclined leg curls. “She called me a jerk,” I huffed. “I didn’t stand for it.”

Otto scoffed. “Oh, please. Like we didn’t see you all up on her when you went outside.”

I avoided his gaze and fought a laugh.

“Yeah,” Oscar chimed in. “Saw that shit too. She must have called you one hell of a jerk for you to suck the air out of her lungs like that.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“He went after her fast as hell, right?!” Otto clutched himself, huddled over in laughter, and when Oscar agreed and did the same, I lowered my weight and sat up straight.

“Oh, like you have any room to talk, Mr. Sweet Talk.” My gaze darted over to Oscar as he grabbed the bar above his head and started pull-ups.

“I’m not afraid of admitting it. Mr. Sweet Talk gets the fucking job done.”

Otto and I laughed. These guys, man. I couldn’t win with them. They were a complete duo—hilarious together.

“What did she want?” Otto gestured at my phone.

“She wants to do lunch.”

“Should go,” Oscar puffed, pulling up again. “Day off. Why not?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Dude, you are fucking tripping right now!” Otto squinted his eyes, throwing out his hands. “This girl clearly wants you and you keep avoiding her. As hot as she is, I wouldn’t even be standing in this damn gym right now if it was me she wanted. I’d be out of here, riding right over to her rich-ass neighborhood to pick her up. I would make sure she sucks my cock before lunch, too.”

“Shut the hell up.” I looked him over. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Uh-oh.” Otto dropped his weights and bent down to get in my face. “Did I strike a nerve?”

“She’s not like that.”

He capped my shoulder. “I know. I’m only kidding, dipshit.”

I shrugged his hand off, wrapping up on my leg curls.

“Kylie wants to meet tonight. I told her I can’t.” Oscar dropped down, landing lightly on his feet.

“You working?” I asked.

“No. I just shouldn’t meet her.”

“He’s a fucking pussy. That’s all.” Otto scoffed again. “You two have automatic, easy pussy, and you’re just going to act like it isn’t there—like two of the hottest girls in this fucking city aren’t pining after you? Fucking idiots.”

“No, you fucking prick,” Oscar snapped. “You don’t get it. These girls…they dream too much. They have it easy. They don’t get us. We can’t get too close. Getting close will result in that very thing you keep talking about. Sex. And when that happens, they’ll definitely get attached.” Oscar picked up his towel, roughly wiping the sweat from his head and above his brow. “I can’t deal with that shit right now. What’s the point of getting so involved when I’ve got nothing to offer, you know?”

I nodded. “Not only that, but they don’t know what the hell they want. They see us and they want to
fix
us.”

“A couple of rich girls that think they can buy their way in,” Oscar grumbled.

“Why not let them?” Otto shrugged. “You don’t have to take it seriously… plus you two need to get laid a-fucking-sap.”

“It would be pointless.” Oscar laid flat on his back, grabbing the barbell above him. I stood up to spot him. “They’ll be in college soon. And we’ll still be here and shit. They’ll move on. We’ll be stuck here. And when they come back?”

“It’ll be just like you and Adeline?” Otto’s face was serious now. “Shit. Now I get it. That’s what you two fuckers are afraid of?”

I avoided both their eyes after that statement. Oscar finished his reps, and I grabbed the bar, dropping it on the handles.

He sat up instantly, pointing his gaze at his brother before grabbing his water bottle and walking away.

“Need some more water,” he muttered, but he was already halfway to the fountain, not daring to look back.

I looked at Otto. “You had to go there?”

“What? It was just a question!” He threw his hands in the air.

“Adeline did him dirty. That’s not something he wants to remember right now, especially with Kylie coming around.”

“She just seems like the type. She likes attention. He needed to be reminded of what would happen if he got too involved. She seems fun and all, and I want him to get as much pussy as he can, but he needs to be smart. Both of you.”

I stepped forward, shaking my head as I focused hard on him. “Adeline may have burned him, but every girl won’t, Otto. Let that shit go so he can do the same.”

“All right, man. Whatever. Just looking out for my boys. That’s all. Don’t say I didn’t fucking warn any of you.” He held his hands up, pleading not guilty. “There’s a difference between fucking them for some easy pussy, and getting your feelings involved. It’s not even them that are afraid of falling. It’s you two fucks.”

I stepped away, trying to ignore him. “I’m going to meet Jenny.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “You do that.”

I ignored his change in mood, going for my gym bag and then to the locker room for a quick shower. The water was off back at home, which meant I had to make use of my resources while I could.

While I washed, I couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation we’d just had.

The twins are… fucked up. Otto, though he can be the biggest fucking clown there is, is protective of the both of us, especially his brother.

Adeline was the girl that broke Oscar’s heart a year and a half ago. She said she’d never leave him, that she’d always come back to visit whenever she could.

Well, the first couple of months she would come often. About four times a month. But after about the fifth month, we noticed a change.

She showed up less… and less.

And then she didn’t show up at all.

Oscar called constantly and she either wouldn’t answer or when she did she’d say she was busy and that she needed to call back.

It got so bad for him. He was stressed and aggravated by the smallest things. It got to a point where Oscar drove four hours to her college just to see her.

He’d visited her dorm once before, during the beginning of the year when things were okay.

Huge mistake.

Let’s just say that when we stopped by, saw a guy sitting on her bed with his shirt off, and her in only a T-shirt, we all knew she had completely forgotten about Oscar.

She broke him, and there wasn’t shit she could say to make him feel better or a lie she could come up with, because the truth had been shoved right down his throat.

Instead of walking away when he saw her and the other guy, Oscar busted right in and beat the shit out of the guy—the guy who had no clue Oscar even existed.

Oscar was charged for assault, tossed in jail for a month, and because he got so behind, he dropped out of high school. Otto dropped out as well, but it was months later, after they’d lost their home and had to move into an apartment with their mother.

They needed jobs. They needed money.

Since they’d been working they were better now. Aunt Jane was better.

That’s why I’m sure when people see or think of us, they think of us as low-life fighting dropouts with no purpose.

The truth is, people just didn’t know who we were. They were afraid of us because we instilled that fear in them whenever they saw us fight.

We fought so hard to run away from our own fears that the only option was to unleash it on anyone that stood in our way.

People in this city knew not to fuck with us, to stay away. But when you get girls like Jenny, and Oscar gets someone like Kylie, it changes things.

We know we don’t need it, but we can’t help but want it. We can’t help but wonder…we can’t help but try again—work on ourselves as much as we can, even if that means losing parts of ourselves.

But sometimes the lowest of the low don’t deserve something that good.

Oscar and I both knew those girls weren’t trying to buy their way in. If that was the case, we wouldn’t still be around. And I wouldn’t have been washing my balls just to make sure I smelled nice enough to be in her presence.

We’d become so closed off that any sign of kindness or care threw us the fuck off. We ran with most of it, but when it came down to the wire—scheduling meet-ups and lunches and dates—it was a hard pill for us to swallow.

It was hard because it gave us a purpose.

And…maybe we didn’t want purpose.

Because purpose meant we had to care. Purpose meant we had to give it all that we had. Purpose meant we had to try harder…but trying harder wasn’t what we wanted.

Because it’s easier to not care at all.

It’s easier to pretend nothing matters.

It’s easier because it doesn’t hurt when something drastic ends up happening.

Like in my case, losing my mother, or in their case, watching her get abused by a man you thought would protect both her and you.

The same applied to me too… but unlike Aunt Jane, Mom didn’t make it out alive.

D
rumming
my fingers on the table, I took a look around the busy, familiar restaurant. I put most surveillance on the waiting area by the door, waiting for that familiar presence.

I was at Buckley’s again.

Drake should’ve been here by now.

For the past sixteen hours I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that damn kiss in the parking lot. I was too afraid to go to sleep, just in case I didn’t get the chance to dream about it.

I woke up with a big, goofy smile on my face, took a long shower, and then I read a romance novel I’d been dying to get my hands on for months.

It only took me four hours to finish it. When I was done, that’s when I decided to text Drake… because even while reading, I couldn’t stop picturing him.

That book boyfriend I was devouring every page of? I was picturing Drake during the whole damn thing. Whenever the book boyfriend said something sweet or just straight up sexy, I sighed and pictured those words coming out of Drake’s mouth with his deep, husky voice and his always-serious face.

Trust me, it wasn’t very hard for me to imagine.

He said he would meet me in an hour at this place again—the place we shared our first kiss. It’d been over an hour now. Maybe he got caught up with something.

I sighed as I picked up my not-so-cold chocolate milkshake and took a drawn out sip. Just as I placed the glass down, the bell above the door chimed and I looked over.

And there he was.

Wearing all black, his hair slightly damp. He wore a tight black T-shirt that hugged his large upper body. I could only imagine what was really beneath it—most likely pounds of solid, delicious muscle.

He scanned the restaurant with furrowed brows and when they found mine, I lifted a hand to wave. He walked in my direction, his face softening up as he met at the table.

Sliding into the booth, he blew out a breath and then mumbled, “Sorry… about being late.”

“It’s okay,” I replied quickly, but I was curious why he wasn’t on time. “Were you working?” I asked, pushing towards it.

To my surprise, he filled me in. “My grandma needed me to make a run to the grocery store for her.” He fought a smile, dropping his gaze to the table. It was almost child-like, as if he was embarrassed to even say what was next, but so happy deep down. Drake had pride that could kill him. “She’s baking a cake.”

“A cake? For what?” I inquired.

“Me.”

“You?” I narrowed my brows. And then it hit me. There was only one reason someone would bake Drake a cake and for him to actually allow it. “Oh my gosh! Wait—it’s your birthday today?!”

He barely nodded. “Might be.”

“Wow—well, happy birthday!” I exclaimed, grinning maniacally.

He looked around the restaurant as if he were embarrassed by my obnoxiousness. I figured he was when his cheeks tinged red, and when I looked around a few of the waiters and waitresses were looking at us.

“Oops. Sorry,” I giggled, covering my mouth quickly.

“It’s cool.” One of his cheeks quirked up as he ran his eyes down my chest. “Thank you.”

I tried hard not to cover my chest—but only because I didn’t want him to stop looking. I liked that he was. It proved to me that maybe he found me just as attractive as I did him.

“So June 16
^th
. You should have told me it was your birthday. I could have treated you to a better place than this. A nice dinner somewhere downtown.”

“Like I would let you spend a dime on me.”

“Why not? We’re friends, right? It’s what friends do.”

“Hmm.” He grunted and his lips twitched.

My eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“After what went down last night, I think we’ve become a little more than
just
friends
.”

I blushed, my face burning up.

Drake leaned forward, reaching across the table. The pad of his thumb stroked my cheek, and at first I thought it was an act of affection, but when he pulled away and showed me his thumb, defeat settled in my veins.

Oh.

“Like whipped cream on your shake?” he asked.

“Yep,” I sighed.

“You had a chocolate one last night too.”

“Favorite flavor,” I confirmed.

He nodded.

“You know, we should celebrate your birthday.”

“Yeah?” He exhaled, leaning back and folding his thick arms over his chest. “How?”

“There’s a carnival going on nearby. We could go.”

“Are we ten again?” he teased.

I laughed. “No. But I think it’d be a fun experience. I haven’t been to a carnival in ages. Almost ten years I think—back when Mitch—”

I looked up and rapidly stopped talking, biting the inside of my cheek. Drake’s head tilted, more attentive now. I knew he wanted to speak on it—ask about it, but I didn’t bother. I looked away and finished with what I’d started with.

“We should really go,” I murmured. “I think it would be fun.”

He was still watching me. I could feel his hard, observant gaze, the heat of it. But, as always, he let it go, dropping his arms and looking away too.

Great. Just great. I made things awkward for him. Why do I always have to ruin stuff?

To my luck, the waiter came to the table and asked for my order. He looked over at Drake but Drake shook his head, holding a hand up to dismiss him.

When he walked away I asked, “Why aren’t you eating? Isn’t this where you wanted to catch lunch?”

“Yes… but my grandma can be… a smotherer. I know that isn’t a word, but that’s the closest thing to it. She wouldn’t let me walk back out of the house without eating something.”

I smiled. “Aww.” It was cute to hear him talk about her this way. A boy who loved his grandma. It was the sweetest thing ever. The way his eyes lit up, how he couldn’t help his smile. It was adorable, really.

He sighed. “I guess… when you finish eating, we can do the carnival. I have to tell you now that I won’t be able to stay with you all night. I have to be somewhere later.”

“Where?” I asked, picking up my milkshake.

His eyes locked on mine, his gaze no longer soft.

“Oh.” I lowered my straw. “The Dawg Pit?”

His lips pressed together.

“On your birthday?” I whispered. “But I thought you only fought on Wednesdays and Fridays?”

“Tonight is different. Every time there is a fighter’s birthday we throw a Smashdown Birthday celebration before the real fights.”

“A Smashdown Birthday—
what?
”

His laughter came out deep and smooth. “There won’t be a fight tonight. We just walk the ring, talk some shit about who we are going to fight next, get the crowd riled up for the next big thing. It’s a moneymaking scheme. People get in free tonight so that during the night of the fight they are ready to pay up. Since it’s my birthday and I’m fighting someone with a good rep, I have to be there to help build up the hype.”

“Oh.” I glanced towards the parking lot, focusing on his truck. My eyes then swung back over to his. “Do you…make a lot of money doing that?”

“Fighting?” He shook his head and laughed. “You don’t have to be afraid to say it, Jenny.”

“I know but… I don’t know.” I waved a hand as the words rushed out of me. “It’s just… the last thing I thought you’d do for money. Especially with the way you used to tell me all about how you hated it when we were in fifth grade.”

He shrugged. “It pays some of the bills. Helps me take care of most of my grandma’s medical bills. It got me that truck out there.” He pointed his thumb towards the window. “I’m good at it. It’s whatever.”

“You know it’s not just
whatever
,” I said, almost mocking him as I thinned my eyes in his direction. “You love what you do. You love that you’re so good at it.
You
don’t have to be afraid to admit it.”

His lips twisted. He found that comeback humorous—and a good one, I bet. “Assumptions are deadlier than weapons, you know?”

“I think my assumptions are closer to the truth than you’d like to admit,
Doomsday
.”

For the first time, I heard him laugh out loud. It was deep and harmonious, and so damn sexy that I had to laugh with him. It wasn’t loud or over the top.

It was the perfect dose of laughter—the kind that proved you got your point across.

“You know what I think?” I asked.

“What?”

“Let’s forget about eating here. Let’s binge on overpriced carnival food and dessert instead.”

Drake’s keys were already clutched in hand. “I was just about to say the same thing.”

I beamed and pushed out of my chair. “Well, let’s go.”

* * *

W
e decided not
to waste too much gas.

After I dropped my car off at home, sneaking away before my witch of a mother could come out and catch me, I was inside Drake’s pick-up truck, squealing as he sped away.

His engine roared, and I found it entertaining just to think of everyone that would hear it and get upset about it being so loud. Just because their cars purred didn’t mean someone else’s couldn’t roar.

The growling of Drake’s truck fit his demeanor; mean and rough. Not extremely loud, but proving more that he always got his point across without having to be.

I clipped my seatbelt as he took the freeway. I then looked down, noticing some mud on the tip of my shoe.

“Damn it,” I cursed beneath my breath.

Drake looked over at me. “What?”

“I think I stepped in some mud or something running to the truck.” He frowned, and started to look down. “It’s not on your floor or anything,” I assured him. “Do you have a napkin in here?”

“Yeah.” He bobbed his head. “Check the glove compartment.”

I reached forward, opening the compartment and shuffling through it. As I pulled out a napkin, something hard fell out and hit the floor.

I glanced over at Drake. He didn’t look my way. He was too busy switching lanes. I picked up the object that fell—a small, rectangular gray box.

“Did you find one?” he asked. He finally looked over at me.

“I did. This fell out. I’ll put it back.” I held the box up with a nervous smile and started to put it back in the glove compartment. I didn’t want him to think I was snooping again.

“No.” He grabbed my arm before I could put it away. He stopped at a light, and his eyes connected with mine. “Open it.”

“Oh—no. I can’t open your stuff. I’m a nosey person but not
that
nosey.”

He laughed. “Just open it, Jenny. I think you’ll be happy to see what’s in there.”

I dropped my line of sight to the box. Sighing, I opened the case, and when I saw the cross I gave him in fifth grade—the cross Mitchell gave me—all words caught in my throat.

“Oh my gosh,” I whispered. Well, most of my words. “You really do still have it. I was only hoping you did when I brought it up last night.”

“Why would I get rid of it?”

“Because it’s a cheap, old cross that’s worth nothing at all?”

He pulled off, head shaking. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“How?”

“Because my first real friend gave it to me.” He paused, and I watched his face relax. “Outside of Oscar and Otto… I didn’t have friends. Plus, they didn’t really count. They were family. You were the first, and when you gave it to me it actually meant something. It’s worth more to me than you think.”

“Seriously?” I whispered, somewhat doubtful.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “You don’t remember me bringing that damn thing to school every single day. You know why I did it, right?”

“No. Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to disappoint you. I refused to let you down by forgetting it.”

“Why?” I asked again, realizing how stupid I must’ve sounded repeating the same questions.

He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s just the way I am. I don’t like to break my promises. I don’t want people thinking I don’t keep my word.”

“Drake, stop messing around with my emotions,” I blurted out, leaning over the middle compartment. “You’re just saying this stuff to be nice when you honestly don’t have to be.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” His forehead scrunched as he looked me deep in the eyes. “You think you’re the only one that appreciated having a friend? I hated everyone in that damn class and thought I would forever… until I heard you defend me. No one outside the twins, my mother, and my grandma, has ever defended me. Not to the point that they ended up embarrassing themselves like you did that day. Out of all the memories I have, that one sticks the most. I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

I was speechless. Utterly, indisputably speechless.

I’d never heard Drake speak so honestly—so sweetly. He may not have thought he was saying something kind, but he was. His honesty held compassion.

I don’t think he knew how much he was working his way in, controlling my emotions without even knowing it.

“I was glad to have you as a friend too, Drake,” I stated softly.

I sat back in my seat and grinned, and when I looked over, a smile lingered on the corners of his lips, the streetlights flashing across his sculpted face.

I didn’t know what this was here—how we’d gone from friends, to hating each other, to pretending we didn’t care at all, and then to becoming
more
than friends—but I wasn’t going to deny or ignore it.