“I didn’t tap out,” I croak, my voice nearly gone. Closing my eyes, I fight from crying. If I do, Thomas will think it’s from the fight, and not from a broken heart.
“What?” Thomas crouches down. Peering up under my lashes I say louder. “I didn’t tap out!” My arms feel like Jello to the point I fall to the mat. Its coolness welcoming me with open arms. “You have to train me now.”
Cate laughs loud, as she raises her arms up in the air in victory.
“You made the deal, you lost buddy!” Cate points at him.
“Jesus Christ.” Thomas stands straight, his hands on his hips as he glares down at me.
“I didn’t tap out,” I whisper proudly.
***
Pulling myself up off the floor, my body aches from the amount of effort it takes. My chest constricts as I frantically look around the gym for Camden. Not seeing him anywhere, I quickly slip out of the ring, pull my gloves off, and spit the guard onto the floor. I gotta get out of here.
I can’t see him. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. Turning to grab my bag I run into a wall of pure muscle, the familiar smell hitting home.
Camden.
He smells just like he used to when he was eighteen. Clean and spicy.
My chest trembles as I slowly look up from under my lashes. “Cam-Camden?” I stammer as a shiver runs up my back. The unsettling warmth on my face causes me to sweat, as my heart pounds against my chest with a wave of nerves.
His brows are pulled together with hate, and his blue eyes are cold and unfriendly. He folds his thick arms across his chest, making his dark shirt strain against his biceps.
I look away, digging my nails into the palm of my hand.
The TV has nothing on what the real Camden Steel looks like. He’s his own person. I can’t help but stare back at him. Sharp around the edges, but beautiful. He has small scars that show his pain, and power dusting around his thick eyebrows and cheek bones.
“Why are you here?” His words are bitter, cutting into me.
Looking at the ground I avert my eyes from his. His intense stare too much.
“I um—” I practiced over and over in my head what I would say to Camden if I ever ran into him again. Had it down pat. I would explain why I left him behind, he’d get angry, I’d get angry, and then I’d say something really smart before storming off. He would then chase me, whip me around and kiss me so hard that everything that ever happened would be forgotten. Only… I can’t seem to think of a single thing to say now.
So, I run. I push past him, and run to my car.
Out of the building and nearing my car I feel my eyes prick with the urge to cry.
“Why are you here, Tate?” My name used to come out of his mouth in a way that made my toes curl, now… it’s as if I’m a disease. “TATE!”
I stop. Using my free hand I wipe the one tear that managed to escape. Maybe this is the part he says he’s missed me, and pulls me into an embrace and kisses me.
Turning I look into the distance. “I’m here because I want my family back and I want to be a professional fighter. I-I didn’t know this was your gym though.”
Unpleased with my answer, he scoffs, widening his stance. His face is more defined, and covered in a five o’clock shadow. He’s not a boy anymore, he’s a man. He licks his bottom lip before raking it in with his teeth. I used to kiss those lips. Moaned unintelligible things against them while he loved me.
I didn’t realize how much I missed him, not until now.
“Do yourself a favor, and just go back to wherever it was you came from.”
Anger flushes through my system and my mouth falls open. This is not going the way my dreams had planned out.
“Seriously, after all these years that is the first thing you wanted to say to me?”
He rubs at his chin before hitting me with those cold blue eyes.
“Trust me Tate, the first thing I was going to say wasn’t near as nice as that.” He turns, his back just as toned and chiseled as his front.
“Say it, say what you were going to say,” I push.
Shaking his head, he thumbs the sweat pants on his narrow hips.
“It doesn’t matter… Because you don’t matter, not anymore.”
I gasp at his harsh tone. Ouch. Tears unleash so fast I can’t stop them. Not this time.
“Fucking prick,” I grumble under my breath as I head toward my car.
“What was that?” he asks arrogantly, but I don’t look behind me. If I do, I might punch him in the mouth.
“I said, FUCKING PRICK!” I tug my door open, throw my bag in and jump in. Silently praising myself for finding words that were buried deep inside of me.
Slamming my door shut, I glare at him as I start the car.
I quickly peel out of the parking lot without looking back.
My nostrils flare, and knuckles turning white as I strangle the steering wheel.
Who the hell was that? That wasn’t the Camden I remember. Not at all.
I’m going to kill Fiona when I see her.
Camden