Ice Cold (An MMA Stepbrother Romance)

I thought about waiting another day to break the news to him, but it wasn’t as if the story was going to change. It was just that we had done a good job so far of avoiding each other. On one hand, I was relieved. It had pissed me off when he said he didn’t remember me, but it was supposed to be just a one-night stand. I imagined that he had one every night of the week. Still, it was the hottest sex of my entire life. It hurt me to think I hadn’t any impact on his memory of that night.

I stood and stretched my back. I was going to have to find a yoga class soon. My body was nothing but knots. I had my hands on the small of my back as I turned and found Shayne leaning against the doorframe of my office. His eyes were squarely on my jutting chest. I quickly straightened and ran my hand over my skirt. Stacey had been giving me crap about continuing to dress as if I was going into a downtown law firm every day, but I wanted to make sure that everything about my presence was professional and above board. I could just imagine what my mother would say if she found out that I had sex with my soon-to-be-brother. She’d be mortified.

“The door was cracked,” he said, offering no apology for his stare.

“I was actually just coming to look for you,” I said, using my most dignified and professional voice. “Do you want to come in and sit down?” I gestured to the chair across from me.

“Are we going to take a meeting now?” Shayne turned his cheek over his shoulder, and I saw him flick a gesture at Maury across the room. Maury scowled and stalked toward the locker room.

“What was that about?” I asked.

Shayne stepped into the room and slid into the chair. Even though I was standing up and he was sitting down, he seemed to fill the entire room. I was glad that he had a hoodie on with his shorts. I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from ogling his bare chest, which seemed to be his preferred workout attire for his work in the ring with Maury.

“Maury’s pissed off at me.”

“That seems to be the norm,” I replied. I caught his surprised look. “What? I’ve been here for three days. It’s long enough to start seeing the team dynamics.”

“He doesn’t think I’ll win,” Shayne said, throwing his gaze downward toward the floor. “The vote of confidence is overwhelming.”

I felt myself softening toward him. Despite the fact that I thought he was a cocky ass, he was a cocky ass with work ethic. He was there before I arrived at eight already hitting the bags or lifting weights, and he was there when I left a little after six each evening. He appeared focused and serious about the upcoming match. “He’s just making sure you’re ready.”

“I am ready,” Shayne said. He waved off any further talk on the subject. “So, are you ready to give Cal your stamp of approval yet? I’m sure you’re eager to get back to Connecticut.”

“Actually, we need to talk about that,” I said slowly. I gestured toward the receipts on my desk. “Assuming I have all your receipts, and I know I don’t based on my cross-reference with the last month of spending from your bank account records, you are spending money at an even faster rate than you did the last three quarters.”

Shayne stiffened in his chair. “So? I make a lot of money. I spend a lot of money. It’s not a big deal.”

So far, the conversation was going exactly how I anticipated. That meant that it wouldn’t end well if I didn’t try to manage it. “Making a lot of money is great. Spending less money is better, especially when you think about your future.”

“Jesus Christ, have you taken a page from Cal’s hymn book or what?” Shayne said as he stood up. “I don’t need someone to tell me how to spend my money. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

I took a deep breath. I needed to be calm. This was my first real client, and I didn’t want to screw it up. “There are ways that you could actually be making more money, and if you did that, and we just got your spending a bit more under control, we could accomplish both. You could still spend money, within reason, and you’d show your dad that you were thinking about the future by investing some of it.”

Shayne’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, how do we do that?”

I pointed around the gym. “You bought this place six months ago, and you don’t charge any gym dues for the guys who work out here. Most of them are on the MMA circuit just like you. It’s not like they can’t afford it or wouldn’t expect to pay something for the privacy of being able to workout here.”

“These guys are my friends,” Shayne said. “I didn’t buy it to make money. I wanted a place where I could work out in peace and have my own space. Plus, owning real estate is supposed to be a good thing.”