He lifts a brow.
“I’m serious!” I groan and fix my eyes on him. “Did you not just hear what I said? Besides, I can’t show up to drop this kind of bomb with my professional fighter dad at my back.”
His shoulders tense. “That’s exactly how you should show up.”
I whip around. “Mom!”
“Blake, maybe you should—”
“Mouse, you met this guy?”
She rolls her lips between her teeth.
“Exactly. You wanna trust some fuckhole who she needs to talk to early while he’s ‘still sober’”—he uses air quotes—“when we have zero idea how he’s gonna react to this news? Tell me that’s what you want, Mouse.”
She twirls her hair so fast the end of the strand whips around to make a little blond tornado. “He’s got a point.”
I drop my head into my hands. “You guys, please, be rational.”
“He’ll wait outside, right, Blake?”
“Fuck, yeah.” He shrugs. “I’ll wait outside.”
I glare at him. “Promise.”
“Yep, promise.”
There’s something unspoken going on between the two of them, but I’ve been in this position enough times to know I won’t win this fight.
“Fine. I’ll grab a shower and we’ll go.”
“Wonderful.” Blake smiles, but it’s all teeth. “Looking forward to it.”
Dammit to hell.
*
Killian
I’m weaving through crowds of people as they put their carry-on luggage back together after passing through security. I dropped a duffle bag at curbside checkin, containing everything I’m bringing with me, gym clothes for every season and my toothbrush. It’s not nearly enough for a year in London, but my plan is to spend every waking minute training, and I don’t need much for that. My backpack hangs off my shoulders, heavy with my laptop and a few of my favorite books I couldn’t stand to leave behind.
The rest of the things in my place I’ll never see again.
Including Axelle’s bag filled with her things left over from our night together.
Again I try to muster up something, anything.
But I’m dry.
I just can’t care.
Not anymore.
“Whatddya’ know?” Rex’s voice sounds from my left. I turn to see him leaning against a wall beneath our gate number. He’s wearing a black Ramones T-shirt, jeans, and black Converse with a white pair of Beats hanging around his neck. His hair is sticking out at all angles, but it doesn’t look like he just rolled out of bed. No, this fucker’s smiling like he hit ten gallons of caffeine. “Guess you changed your mind?”
“I did.” Or it was forcibly changed.
His smile falls and his eyes narrow on my bruised cheek. “You train yesterday?”
I press the sensitive mark with my fingertip and cringe. “Yeah.” I can’t look him in the eye. Fuck, I hate lying.
“Who got one in on you? Wade?”
“Nah…” I swallow, reliving the moment, the hatred and hurt blazing in Blake’s eyes seconds before his fist slammed into my face. “Blake.”
“Damn, wish I’d been there.”
No, you don’t. Hell, I wish I hadn’t been there.
He slaps me on the back. “Stoked you decided to come, man. I wasn’t looking forward to making this long-ass flight on my own.”
“Don’t get too excited. I’m shitty company.”
“Eh, I hate flying, so shitty company is better than no company.” He holds up his airline ticket. “First class and I plan on drowning my nerves in a dozen mini bottles of booze. Plan is we drink ’til we pass out then wake up at Heathrow.”
For the first time in eighteen hours, I smile. It doesn’t feel right, more like someone is pulling on the corners of my mouth for me, but at least it’s something. “Now you’re talkin’.”
I lean a shoulder on the wall next to him, and he pulls out his phone, checking email, hitting news sites, and catching up on sports stats while I remain blessedly numb at his side. The great thing about dudes is they don’t feel the need to fill every available second with sound. Guys can sit for hours without even acknowledging each other, whereas it seems women get awkward if a few silent seconds pass. Then it’s “Are you okay? You’re so quiet. Why aren’t you talking?”
My line of thinking brings a dull ache to my chest that I choose to ignore. It isn’t long before a voice comes over the loudspeaker, announcing our flight is boarding. We line up with the other first-class passengers and herd ourselves through the door to the jet way.
A sudden urgency compels me to turn around, as if I left something behind. My feet pause, and I turn around to a flash of chestnut hair. My pulse kicks. Maybe she changed her mind. I lean around to get a better look and frown into the face of a very pretty girl with brown eyes and pale skin.
I force a return smile then follow behind Rex to the jet way.
I make a vow to myself right then. That will be the last time I ever look back.
She made her choice.
And now I’ve made mine.
*
Axelle