Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance (32 page)

“I am too.” She looks around. “I think last night’s sleep was the best I’ve had in ages.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to sleep like I want to. Terrible insomnia and some anxiety, but this bed is so damn comfy. I never want to move from it.” She grins, revealing her pearly white teeth as she pats the bed. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“Anytime, Jenny.”

She fiddles with her fork, shuffling her eggs around. “I just—well… I can’t believe where you are now, Drake. Like… wow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… well, only a few years ago, you were struggling with what to do next. And now look at you. I’m just wondering how I never saw or heard what you were doing before coming to Vegas.”

“What in the hell were you doing in Yale? You have TV, don’t you?”

She shrugs. “My roommate and I agreed we didn’t need cable. As long as we had Wi-Fi we were fine. That’s what they make streaming services for. Netflix was all I watched. Marathon after marathon of whatever shows I want.” She winks.

I laugh. “What did you do with your time outside of that?”

“Homework. Projects. Finals… and a lot of singing.”

“Singing?” I look at her, surprised to hear that. “You still love to sing?”

“And write songs from time to time,” she adds before biting into her waffle.

“You’ll have to let me hear something.”

Her head shakes. “I don’t think you want to hear the songs I’ve come up with lately.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because most of them are about you… and not in the good way.”

I rub my jaw, but I don’t pull my gaze away. “Well, then I deserve to hear them.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I deserve to listen to what I put you through. You probably hate my fucking guts now.”

She releases a heavy sigh as she chews slowly. “I don’t hate you, Drake. I could never hate you.”

I’m surprised to hear that, too. “With the way you acted when you first talked to me again in the locker room—”

“I don’t hate you. I swear.” She forces a smile. “I was just terrified to face you. I mean here I am, doing absolutely nothing with my life, and here you are. You’ve transformed into someone untouchable. Someone way bigger than the Drake Davenport I knew back in Fox River.”

“I’m still me. Trust me. Nothing’s changed. More people just know me as Doomsday now.”

She nods, tossing her hair. “Is this…” She hesitates for a moment, looking up at me before pulling her line of vision away. “Is this why you didn’t show up that night in Fox River?” she asks, and her voice is really faint, almost like she never even wanted to ask. “Because of fighting?”

I look her over, watching as she studies her lap and the food on her plate. What kind of fool would I be to say yes to that?
Oh, yeah, Jenny. I chose to fight rather than salvage our relationship.

I stand up and walk towards the window, sticking my hands in my front pockets.

I take a look around the city. I have a great view from this room, but I need to get her out of this hotel. I need to show her a good time.

“Get dressed.”

“For what?” she questions.

“I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

I turn to look at her. “You still ask a ton of fucking questions.”

She cocks a stern brown.

“I don’t want to spoil it.” I put on a half-smile.

She presses her lips and then looks at her suitcase. Holding her hands out and gesturing to her outfit, she says, “Can’t. Not many good clothes, remember?”

I shrug. “Fuck the old clothes. I’ll take you shopping for some new ones. You can get whatever you want.”

She narrows her eyes and then points her fork at me. “What are you trying to do here, Doomsday?”

I smirk, walking towards the closet. “I just want you to remember the good in me.”

She’s quiet for a few seconds, and when I look back, a smile is on her lips. “You’ll let me get whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want, Snoop.”

“Oh, my gosh,” she laughs. “How do you even remember that name? It was so annoying.”

“How could I forget? You are the nosiest person I know,” I chuckle.

She slides her tray away and stands. Some of the skin of her flat belly shows as she stretches and then walks around me to get to the bathroom.

“Okay. Fine. If you’re really offering, we’ll shop, but I won’t buy much. And you have to promise to let me pick out at least one outfit for you.”

I stop her before she can walk into the bathroom, grabbing her by the elbow and reeling her back gently. “Don’t worry about the money. There’s plenty. As for the outfit? Hell, no. Some things may have changed, but that isn’t one of them.”

She bites a smile. “I figured macho man Drake was still in there somewhere.” She’s teasing now. I’m glad to see she’s still playful.

“I didn’t even let my grandma buy my clothes.”

Her smile fades and her face softens. As if she remembers something, she straightens her back. Her eyes hold mine, and my heart sinks.

I shouldn’t have mentioned my grandmother. She might start asking questions and I honestly don’t think I’m prepared to answer them right now.

One thing at a time.

Remaining strong, I turn fully to face her, drawing her body closer to mine. When we are nose-to-nose, she stares into my eyes, and it’s almost like she’s forgotten about the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

Her breathing becomes heavier, her lips twitching for a taste of mine. I hold back, and it’s the hardest fucking thing to do. All I want is to feel those soft, rose petal-like lips again. All I want is to hold her close and never let go.

“Let me take care of you, Jenny. I couldn’t do it four years ago, but I can now. Let me make it up to you.”

Her teeth sink into her plump bottom lip, and that gesture alone is enough to make me want to rip her clothes off.

But still, I hold off. I’ll give her some time to warm up. She needs it, and I need to regain her trust.

“I will give you this chance.” She releases herself and turns around again. “Just don’t mess this one up.”

I watch her carefully before she shuts the door. I hear her start the shower, and then I turn around, fighting a laugh.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I just know I want her back. I want her to know that I’ve made some mistakes, but back then, I was confused. Hurt.

But I’m here now. And I swear on everything I have ever loved, I am not letting her out of my reach.

Those years without her were pure hell, and every time I fought in the cages, it was so I could get where I am now, one step closer to freedom. I fought in hopes that she’d see me—find me, or better yet, I’d find her.

I fought so I could get my girl again, and take care of her like I should have four years ago.

None of the bitches I occasionally fucked meant anything to me. They couldn’t fill the void. Their flesh could never match Jenny’s, nor could their hearts. Jenny was pure and real and different. She saw me for what I was, and she respected me.

She didn’t see me as Doomsday. She saw me as a typical guy with a typical personality. She knew I had my downfalls, but she accepted them and transformed them into good things. She made me see the good in myself. She made me forget all the bad, dirty shit I went through every day.

She made me whole.

Life was hard without her, but I know it can be so much easier, now that we are together again. She just has to let me in, and when that happens, I’m holding on tight.

Jenny is
my
girl. My world.

It’s time for us to get back on the same foot.

O
ut of all the
places we could have shopped in Las Vegas, I told Drake we should try the biggest of them all.

Fashion Show. Right off the strip, next to one of the busiest damn streets in this city.

We’ve been here for over an hour and Drake is lagging behind. He and Preach are holding my bags, which I think is really sweet, but I can tell he’s over it now.

I bet he regrets his offer.

During the first twenty minutes or so he was eager for this journey, but when I started going to the fitting rooms, he lost interest.

I don’t blame him. This is something I’m better off doing with Kylie than my ex-boyfriend.

“I bet you regret this decision, don’t you?” I look over my shoulder at Drake. He’s sitting on a bench. Preach stands beside him, his large arms folded. He glances down at Drake with a smirk. Drake looks up and scratches his chin.

“I will never understand it,” Drake grumbles.

“Understand what?” I laugh.

“The time it takes for a woman to gather a few decent outfits. It’s not that hard. Just find some shit that matches, make sure it’s your size, and then get the hell out.”

“So you
do
regret this decision?” I burst out laughing as I turn to face him.

“I regret nothing, Snoop.”

I laugh. “Yeah, sure.” I gather the dresses hanging on my arm and double check the sizes. “Once I try these on, we can leave. Is that okay with you?”

“Finally,” he mutters. “Starting to get a little hungry. When we leave… lunch.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I smile as I spin around and walk to the fitting room. He’s trying and I’m… trying to keep things cordial. I don’t want to be a bitch to him anymore. He doesn’t deserve that after all he’s done for me so far.

When I get to the fitting room, I try calling Kylie again, but like the last three times she, doesn’t answer. I saw Drake calling Oscar and he didn’t pick up either. It must mean they are still together… most likely naked… and glued.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to escape Drake, but I do need a breather to think things through. He saved me last night, in a way, and I thank him a million times for it, because if it weren’t for him I would have been sleeping in front of a slot machine. But, I still have a hard time trusting him.

Especially now, when there have been dozens of women running up to him, begging and pleading for autographs and pictures. Some even attempt to grab his crotch, but he’ll stop it before it ever happens. He’s grown so accustomed to it, that when they actually try to kiss or touch him, he just grips their shoulders or arms and says “Thank you for your support.” He’s professional about it, at least.

He doesn’t look at them in any sort of way, but it leaves me with so many personal questions.

Like how many women has he slept with since disappearing on me? How many did he take seriously? Did he love another woman after me?

The last question hurts to think about. I can honestly say I haven’t loved anyone after Drake. He was my first and I hoped back then that he would be my only.

Love didn’t really stick with me when I got to college. I turned away from it, gave it the ultimate cold shoulder.

Boys tried… boys like Shane, and look where we are now.

Something in the back of my mind is telling me to not get too serious with Drake again, but my heart knows no bounds. My heart came back to life and banged like a drum when it sensed his presence—when I saw him on that poster.

My heart is a fool, and if it hasn’t learned by now that nothing is forever, then it might as well go back to hiding. Love, to me, only causes pain.

Love is lethal and it hurts like a bitch when the person you handed your heart to crushes it right in your damn face, and there’s nothing you can do but stand there, helpless.

Watching as the pieces fall and shatter even more as they hit the ground.

* * *

W
e sit
in a private section of a very expensive restaurant. I order something simple and Drake orders a whole damn T-bone steak with garlic-parmesan steak fries. After the big breakfast I had, I’m not very hungry.

“Seriously, how have you not lost a limb by one of them yet?” I look towards the door, at the wild fangirls waiting for Drake to finish a meal he hasn’t even received yet.

He glances back, before drumming his fingers on the table. “Honestly… I have no idea.”

“Preach does a good job at keeping them away.” I look towards Preach. His back is to us, his arms folded tightly across his chest as he keeps an eye on the door. Beside him is another security guard with brown skin, a bald head, and sunglasses on. I don’t know his name yet.

I see a camera flash from a distance and frown when I spot a man with a black camera.

“What the hell?” I mutter.

Drake looks up at me. I assume he’s accustomed to the stolen photos and flashes, but I’m not. I frown at the cameraman and he snaps another picture.

Drake notices my annoyance and looks at the man with a scowl. He calls for Preach, flicking his fingers.

When Preach meets at the table, Drake says, “Go take care of that fucking cameraman, will you?”

Preach nods his head and then walks towards the exit. When he’s outside, he walks up to the cameraman, saying something to him. The cameraman holds his hands up innocently, walking backwards.

When the cameraman has disappeared, Preach turns around and gets through the raving Doomsday fans.

“Fucking paparazzi,” Drake hisses.

“That’s what that was? Wow.” I don’t know why I’m surprised. I mean, I know he’s famous, but geez. This is surreal. I guess I just never imagined Drake as a big shot fighter—not that he could never achieve it, just that I didn’t imagine it was what he wanted for himself.

It’s just that Drake was always
“just Drake”
to me—not Doomsday or whatever else they like to call him.

Our food arrives moments later, and I don’t know what it is, but I can’t eat. Perhaps it’s because I know everyone is watching, and now some of the girls are grimacing as they run their eyes up and down the length of me.

They’re looking at me like I’m the ugliest thing on the face of the earth.

“How can you eat?” I whisper across the table.

Drake shrugs, cutting into his steak. “Used to it.”

“They’re staring so hard at me.” I side-eye the door and he looks with me.

“Want me to tell them to go away?” He drops his fork and starts to stand up but I rapidly shake my head, grabbing his hand. “No—Drake, no. That would cause a scene, put you in the tabloids or something.” He sits back down. “It won’t do anything for your reputation.”

He releases a bitter laugh, sitting again. “Does it look like I give a shit about my reputation? I beat fuckers up for a living. If that isn’t bad enough, I don’t know what is.”

“But you love what you do, right? Fighting?”

“Only thing I’m truly good at.”

“That’s not true,” I state as he eats a piece of the steak. “You are good at a lot. You forget I know how smart you are. Don’t doubt yourself.”

His green eyes flash up to meet mine. We hold gazes and he lowers his fork, preventing the next bite. “You still hold high value in me, huh?”

“You’ve always been better than you made yourself out to be. You may be Doomsday to those people, but here, in this moment—as you face me—you are Drake Davenport and that is the only
you
I know.”

He watches me with a smoldering gaze. He looks me over in the outfit I changed into—a plain coral maxi skirt and white belly shirt.

“If you believe that, then you should know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you… or let you go again.”

“Drake,” I sigh. “You’ll have to let go eventually. We can’t stay in Vegas forever.”

“We don’t have to stay in Vegas. You can come with me wherever I go. I’ll take care of you and you know it. Way better than that piece of shit you came here with does.” His jaw ticks and he focuses on his half-eaten steak.

My eyes drop, and I run my hands over my skirt. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“And why wouldn’t it?”

“Because…I don’t know if I’m ready trust you or not.”

“What, you think I’m going to abandon you? What would be my reason this time? I have absolutely nothing to hold me back. I’m not secretly married or engaged or any of that shit. I’m definitely not tied to anyone—in fact I haven’t taken a woman seriously since the day I left Fox River…since the day I foolishly left you behind.”

I blink rapidly, stunned. Well, all of those questions I had earlier have now been answered. All in one blatant response.

I don’t even know what to say. For the briefest of moments, I am left speechless.

After several seconds have ticked by, I decide to speak again. “How many?”

“How many what?”

“Women have you slept with since we parted ways?”

He scratches the top of his head before drumming his fingers again. “Seven.”

“Seven?” I am surprised to hear that. It’s much less than I thought it would be, but seven is still a lot. I only slept with one guy after Drake and that is Shane. I fidget in my chair, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“Too many?”

I half-shrug. “Not really.”

“I didn’t love any of them, Jenny. Most of them I was with for show. So no one would think I was against women.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m serious.”

I bob my head. “Okay. I believe you.”

He rests his hands on top of the table, and I feel him looking at me, but I don’t bother meeting his eyes. Instead I focus on my cuticles and then twist the rings on my fingers.

“Jenny, I mean what I’m saying. I know I fucked up back then. I really fucked up. I forgot all about the people that cared, even the twins. My own cousins. I was selfish as hell for what I did to you and I regret it. If I could go back, I would. I swear I would. Give me a fucking time machine and I’m there. I’m there and I’m never leaving your side.”

When I reach for my water, he stretches his arm over the table and rubs the back of my hand. I look down at our fingers, how his are much larger than mine, tanner, and rougher.

They are just as warm as they were years ago.

Strong.

Protective.

I once allowed these hands to capture me in my best and worst moments. I let these hands hold and caress me, and make me his. I let these hands own every part of my body, and each memory that involves these hands is sweet, but it also stings a little.

“I tell you what,” he murmurs, leaning forward. “You spend the next two days with me in Vegas, and I will make it up to you as much as possible. I will make sure you have the time of your life, and you have my word that I will
never
leave you again. If I don’t come through with my word, then you can leave. And you’ll never have to hear from me again. I won’t try and reach out to you. I won’t bother you. But I will tell you one thing.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it. “I will be heartbroken. But I guess I deserve some more of that too, huh?”

“What do you mean
more
?” I ask quietly.

His eyebrows draw together, as if my question is the most bizarre thing he’s ever heard. “You’re not the only one who’s been dealt a bad case of heartbreak, Jenny. It broke my heart in two, knowing how you’d react to me not showing up that night. I swear, I could feel your heart breaking. That’s how bad it hurt me.”

“So why didn’t you just come then? You could have showed up—maybe not at that exact time, but any time, Drake. I waited there for hours and you never showed up.” I jerk my hand away and he looks down at his lonely hand on the table.

Sitting back, he focuses on my face, every feature of it. “You asked me if I didn’t show up because of fighting.” He pauses, nostrils flaring. “Yes, that’s the reason I couldn’t make it.”

“Why not? What happened?”

He pulls his line of vision away, focusing on a wall across from him and then down at his lap. I can tell he’s ashamed to admit to it, but I need details and it better be a damn good excuse for the four years of hell I went through, just thinking about his betrayal.

“I was on my way to Fox River. I was driving from Lumber and that was an hour drive.” He pauses, blinking slowly, his long, black eyelashes touching his cheekbones. “I got a call from a guy I was working with at the Dawg Pit. His name was Leo. He used to come to the gym a lot. Talked a lot, said he could be a good manager for me—that he could turn me into something big. He always offered, but I would always decline.

“Before that, I told him I didn’t need a manager, that I was fine with where I was, but it was bullshit. I only rejected him over and over again because I didn’t want to leave Grandma Marie…but then she passed away…and I knew I couldn’t stay in that house anymore—that I needed to get as far away as possible.

“So I called up Leo that next day and told him I wanted better things. Funny thing is, he asked me why, and I told him the truth. I told him I wanted to have something to offer Jenny and myself, for the future. He asked me, ‘Who’s Jenny?’ and I said ‘My girlfriend.’”

I look away when he says that, unable to ignore the delight I feel from his statement.