The Rematch (Wrestling Diaries #2) (5 page)

  He was still tense and it made me feel awful.

  “I’m going to go ask around and make sure the script hasn’t changed.”

  He left me standing with some of the wrestlers I’d met over the last few months. They were nice, but I also knew they’d be talking about me as soon as I was gone. Thankfully Mesquite didn’t come into the room. I ran through a few options of what I would do if he did. Run was the first choice. Ignore him. Slap him.
Hmmm
. Maybe it would be good if he came…

  Denver came back and touched my shoulder. “Can we talk?”

  No. No. No. I hated that phrase!

  Smiling, I stood and followed him from the room. He led me to an empty hallway, which didn’t help the sense of dread I felt.

  “What’s up?”

  “They’ve moved everything up. Mesquite is going to announce tomorrow that he’s coming for the belt.”

  “Why are they changing things?”

  The muscle in his jaw clenched. “They don’t feel I’m a good fit for the main spot. They think one of the bigger guys can carry the title better.”

  “That’s bullshit!” I glanced around to make sure we were still alone. “Denver…”

  “Thanks for having faith in me. Maybe they’re right. Who knows? All I know is I’ll have the belt for one more month and then it goes to Mesquite – probably until Richmond returns.”

  He sounded defeated, like he believed what they were saying.

  “I’m sorry.” There wasn’t really anything else I could offer to make him feel better.

  “Part of the game, I guess.”

  It always boiled down to the game, even Mesquite had said as much.

  “They’re talking about having me do some promotional work in Europe, Asia, and Australia, after I lose the belt. They say it’s because I’m good with people, but I think it’s so I won’t be on TV as much.”

  Gosh, what could I even say to that?

  He shook his head and chuckled, though there was no humor in what he was saying. “So it’s a good thing I bought the good champagne. I want to go out in style.”

  I threw my arms around his neck and held on to him. My poor, sweet Denver. He deserved better than the hand he was being dealt, including with me.

  He kissed my temple and said, “Just promise me something, Jamie.”

  “Anything.”

  “Whatever your answer was – don’t change it. I don’t want what I just told you to make you feel sorry for me. If you pick me then it’s because you want to be with me. And if you let me go, then it’s because we aren’t a good fit.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. Tonight was going to be one of the hardest of my life. But I owed it to myself to be truthful to Denver.

 

  The show started and I watched from the audience in a ringside comp seat. I kept thinking about Denver and how difficult the next few weeks would be for him. His music cued and the audience went wild. Whether he knew it or not- he was going to be a star. The fans loved him too much for him not to be.

  He strutted to the ring with the belt slung over his shoulder.

  “Happy New Year, my little crumpets,” he said making his British accent more noticeable.

  The crowd cheered, loving their nickname from him. In the audience I could see signs proclaiming fans as Denver’s #1 Crumpet and things of that nature.

  “This year has been more eventful than I imagined. Coming to America. Wrestling in front of the best fans in the world. And this-” He held the belt high. “This right here had been the best part of the year. And I couldn’t have won it without the support of-”

  “Blah. Blah. Blah. No one cares, Denver.”

  My head whipped to the left. At the top of the stage Mesquite stood with a smirk on his face. The crowd booed and I found myself joining them – for different reasons.

  “Denver, dude, do you really think you’re champion material? I don’t.
These
people don’t. Hell, I bet even your
woman
doesn’t.”

  My cheeks flamed. While the shows were scripted, the writers had a tendency to use real life events to spice things up. Apparently nothing was off topic. How dare they use me in a storyline!

  Mesquite went on, “So I’m here to give the people what they want.” He paused dramatically. “
Me.

  Denver began pacing in the ring. “Is that so? Because from where I’m standing it looks like you’re hallucinating.” He cupped his hand to his ear. “And I’m certain it’s not your name the fans are yelling.”

  The fans took their cue and began chanting Denver’s name. Then the chants turned into “Mesquite sucks,” clap, clap, clap. Denver’s lips twitched as he caught my gaze. I winked at him. He was doing so well!

  Mesquite said, “Shut up, all of you! You don’t know what’s good for you. But at the next pay-per- view you’ll find out.”

  “You’re all mouth and no trouser,” Denver replied with a sneer.

  Mesquite made his way to the ring and stood outside of it. Denver sat on the second rope, inviting him in, but Mesquite glared instead of taking the offer.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny, boy, because I’m coming for you. And I’m going to get
everything
that’s mine.”

  He threw down the microphone. Just as he was about to leave he caught me staring at him. I could see it in his eyes. He meant more than the belt. He was coming for me, too.

  The crowd began to boo even louder as he flexed and then went backstage. Denver waited a moment and then hopped on the top turnbuckle.

  “I’m not going to let this beauty go without a fight,” he yelled and then held the belt high.

  The booing turned back into cheers. Everyone was on their feet and I joined them. Denver jumped out of the ring and began making his way around. When he got to me he kissed me on the top of the head before moving down the line.

  A fan behind me said, “You’re so lucky!”

  I smiled at her, but I couldn’t stop the dread I felt. What if I was making the wrong choice? What then?

 

 

January 1

  We didn’t get back to the hotel until after midnight. The lobby was full with New Year’s Eve partygoers and we were invited to at least four different rooms to celebrate. Denver just shook his head and led me to the elevator. Inside, he kissed me until we reached our floor.

  He broke the kiss by saying, “I want to do so much more to you, but we need to talk. Especially after what just happened.”

  “Was that scripted?”

  I meant the interaction with Mesquite.

  He nodded as we entered our room. “They changed it last minute and didn’t tell me. I had a feeling something was up, though. Why else would he be here?”

  “You played it off well.”

  “Thanks.” He went to the bottle of champagne and opened it, pouring us each a glass. Raising his glass, he said, “To a new year and a fresh start.”

  I lifted mine. “To people who change your life in the very best way possible.”

  We toasted and sipped our drinks. The bubbles tickled my nose, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment by speaking.

  Finally, Denver said, “Well, are we ready to do this?”

  “Why does it feel like the outcome is already decided?”

  His lips lifted into a half smile. “Because it was decided before we even began. Jamie, I’m not blind. You’re not over him. You never were. And that’s okay. But it also means we can’t continue to see each other because all I do is fall more in love with you.”

  He was going to break my heart.

  “Denver—”

  “It’s okay. I knew what I was getting in to. I just thought we’d have more time to figure things out. Sure, you might love him, but maybe you could love me, too. I know now that’s not an option. Fate, or the higher powers, have other things in store for both of us.”

  A tear slid down my cheek. “I never meant to lead you on.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t want this to end.”

  “But it can’t go forward until you and Mesquite figure out what you’re doing. I won’t be your second choice. You would never love me and I would resent you. I don’t want to resent you.”

  “What do we do now?”

  He pulled me close and I nestled against his neck.

  “Tonight? Tonight we pretend like there’s no tomorrow. And tomorrow we’ll go from there.”

  He led me to the bed and began to undress. Tonight I was more than willing to play pretend. And tomorrow? Well, who knew what would happen then?

 

 

January 5

  I still hadn’t heard from Denver and it hurt. The last few days had been hell, but not as much as when Mesquite had left me which said more than I wanted to admit.

 

 

 

January 8

  I saw LaTonya and Richmond today. Richmond was getting around so much better. He told me in mock whisper that he didn’t even need his crutches anymore. He and LaTonya seemed so happy, too. When he stepped out of the room she grabbed my hand.

  “I think he’s going to propose! I saw a ring in his side of the closet.”

  “That’s great!”

  I hugged my friend, meaning it.

  “Thank you. I know it’s awful to say, but his injury has been the best thing to happen to us. He’s even talking about taking on a lighter work schedule if they’ll let him.”

  I was reminded of a time when Mesquite had offered to do the same thing to be with me and frowned.

  “Why are you frowning? This is good news.”

  “Oh, I was thinking about something else. I’m sorry. You’re right, this is good news.”

  She watched me for a moment. “Were you thinking about Mesquite or Denver? Or both?”

  “As much as I hate to admit it I was thinking about Mesquite. He offered to work less so we could spend time together right before all hell broke loose.”

  “Ah.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “No…”

  “Is Denver still avoiding you?”

  I nodded. “He said I have to figure out what I’m doing with Mesquite.”

  “You do, Jamie. It’s not fair to anyone if you don’t. And who knows, maybe once you talk to Mesquite you’ll realize that whatever you felt for him is gone.”

  I looked down at my hands. “I’m afraid that when I talk to him I’ll be right back where I was before. Our relationship happened so fast and I felt like I couldn’t stop it from happening even if I wanted to. What do I do if that happens again?”

  That was the first time I’d admitted that part aloud. I couldn’t have fought our attraction if I’d wanted to. Then, I was a willing victim. Now? Now I was scared our relationship would consume me and spit out what was left when it was over.

  “You’ll never know if you don’t talk to him. Maybe you will get back together like nothing happened. Maybe you won’t. Either way you owe it to yourself to find out.”

 

January 9

  I caught wrestling on TV tonight. Mesquite was in the ring doing another promo. He was made to be a heel – the fans reacted to him being the bad guy more than they ever did when he was good. His cocky personality probably had a lot to do with it.

  He said into the camera, “Now I know a lot of you sitting on your couches don’t understand why I’m getting a title shot. It’s simple really. It’s in my rematch clause.”

  The crowd booed.

  He made a crying sound and then went on, “Shut up, you babies. I don’t care what you think. All I care about is getting that belt back. And, as I said, it all boils down to my rematch clause. Unfortunately I don’t get to face Richmond, who is a worthy opponent… unlike Denver.”

  Denver’s music cued and tears filled my eyes. He looked tired.
My poor Denver.

  “Now Mesquite, I don’t know who you’re trying to fool. You had months to use the rematch clause. Why did you wait until Richmond was hurt?” Denver scratched his head. “In fact, I’ve been looking in to things. Richmond’s accident was convenient. Maybe you had something to do with that…”

  Footage began to play of a backstage segment where a masked man attacked Richmond. It was, of course, staged, but I had to wonder if Richmond’s recovery was going well enough for him to be traveling.

  Mesquite glared. “You can’t prove anything, boy.”

  “You’re right. And I don’t need to prove anything. I accept your rematch challenge.”

  He got into the ring with Mesquite and the fans went wild.

  “And I will be leaving with the belt.”

  Mesquite threw down his microphone and the two began fighting. I turned the TV off, having seen enough.

 

 

January 10

  I almost called Denver today just to hear his voice. Instead, I hung up. When my phone dinged a moment later I just knew it was him.

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