I have a headache from bouncing my eyes between my phone and the plate of Asian fusion food in front of me. It’s been over twenty-four hours—forty-two to be exact—since Axelle and I had our face-to-face in the gym. I went back to my hotel that night and texted her that I appreciate her filling me in on the last horrible year of her life and that I was sorry for blowing up. I also said I looked forward to seeing her again. And either she never received that text or she flat out fucking forgot because I haven’t heard from her or seen her since.
I took Fleur, Liam, and Jay hiking at Red Rock the next morning, got back in time to meet with my publicist at the hotel, and raced to the training center to catch Axelle. She wasn’t lying when she said she was booked all day with massages, but this time she never came out of her little room. From what I could tell, she was ordering the last client to issue in the next. I had my late afternoon meeting at the training center, and by the time I was finished, she was gone.
“Figure if you stare at it long enough it’ll grow wings?” Liam lifts his brows, his eyes dancing between mine and my phone, which is face up just inches from my plate.
Fleur flicks her water straw at him. “Mind your own business, Liam.”
“No.” I pick up my phone and shove it into my pocket. “He’s right.” She’s obviously ignoring me, and she’s nuts if she thinks she can avoid me forever.
Fleur leans in to me. “She’ll call; just give her some space.”
I don’t understand. I thought Axelle and I had a pretty good talk, but she’s not giving me even a hint of how she’s feeling. Unless you count her ignoring me, then I’d say she’s sending a pretty clear message.
“What time is the press conference?” Liam shoves a bite of food in his mouth.
I throw my napkin on the table and lean back. “Tomorrow at four thirty.”
“Four thirty?” He looks disappointed. “But it’s Saint Valentine’s Day, and rumor has it American girls are horny and willing on this day.” He shoves out his lower lip. “I was hoping to be drunk and the meat in a girl sandwich by then.” He tilts his head. “Any chance they can reschedule it?”
Valentine’s Day. Fuck. “No, dumb ass.”
“It’s the big announcement, yeah?” Disappointment etches Fleur’s voice. “Any chance you want to let us in on what you’ll be announcing?”
“They swore me to secrecy.” I hook my hands behind my neck and lean back, staring between my loud-mouthed friends. “Didn’t want it to leak to the press before the conference.”
“Oh come on, we’re mates.” Liam grins. “I won’t say a word.”
“So when you’re covered in naked strippers and drunk on scotch, you won’t slip and give away the secret?”
“What exactly do you think I’m gonna say? ‘Take my boxers off and oh, by the way, Quick Kill’s going back to London to fight with me because I’m the best middleweight on this side of the equator?’” He purses his lips. “I see your point. That could definitely help me pull a bird, but I guess I’m stuck relying on my accent. Did you know I say one word and American girls drop their knickers and fall on their backs?”
Fleur laughs. “That’s what happens when you follow them to the toilet and watch them pass out.”
“You’re such a fucking comedian.”
“I’m just saying how do you know it’s your accent?”
“Well, it’s not his face,” I mumble.
“Fuck off.” He checks his phone. “Speaking of… I gotta run. I’m meeting the boys at some place called Zeus’s.” He slams back the rest of his drink.
“You’re going to a strip club? It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”
“So.” Liam stares at me and then at Fleur. “You want to come with?”
She gazes up at me, reads something on my face, and then nods. “Gah…fine.”
Liam lifts his chin toward me. “You got this?”
“I got it.” Cameron gave me a company credit card for entertaining my London brethren.
Fleur squeezes my shoulder as she leaves. “Hang in there, okay?”
“Will do, boss.”
She smiles sadly, and as soon as they’re far enough away, I check my phone.
Still nothing.
Dammit, Axelle! I didn’t want to do this, but she’s given me no choice.
I search my contacts and hit “send.”
“UFL, this is Vanessa.”
“Hey, Vanessa, it’s Killian. Listen. I need to ask you for a favor…”
*
Axelle
I went a year without speaking to Killian, and those three-hundred sixty-five days were nothing compared to the two days I’ve gone ignoring him. I wish I could say I was doing it because I’m immature and selfish. That would be the easiest way to explain away how I’m feeling.
Unfortunately, it’s much more complicated than that. My heart and mind are all mucked up together, and I can’t make sense of any of it.
On the one hand, I want to spend every single second with Killian before he goes back to London. I’d ignore sleep if it meant I could stay up with him all night, laughing at his stupid jokes and watching the way his face lights up when he talks about his fighting.
But then there’s the other hand: The one that rises up without fail to protect me from getting hurt. The one that pushes people away before they can leave. The hand that tells me I’ve lived without him before and I can do it again. This is the same hand that holds me back from returning his texts and his calls.