“Why? Because you decided to try out what it’s like being in my shoes for one night?”
“That was the first time I made a poor decision when it came to Shayne. Yes. Now look where’s got me,” I said. “Frustrated and annoyed.”
“More like hot and bothered, that’s for damn sure. I can’t remember the last time we talked about a guy that you were interested in for this long.”
I sighed. “I don’t like him,” I said stubbornly. “I certainly don’t love him. But I might be attracted to him.” As if on cue, I felt a slight ache between my legs. My extracurricular romp with Shayne the night before had left me sore in a deliciously good way. I squeezed my thighs together to feel it more acutely.
“You are smitten, but okay. We’ll start with you’re in lust for him. Sounds like the start of a lovely relationship.”
“He’s not a relationship guy. Fuck, the amount of words that’s been written about the guy’s sexual exploits in the media is ridiculous.” I knew that for a fact because I had read them all. When I did the math, there was a story about Shayne and some girl, or a picture of Shayne and some girl, in the press approximately every seventy-two hours.
“He’s a minor celebrity. What do you expect? People are curious about him.”
I groaned as I remembered my face up on the jumbotron. “And thanks to his little call-out, people might be curious about me now too. How juicy is that? The MMA fighter and his stepsister. Thank God he uses a stage name, so hopefully nobody will tie those two things together.” I sat straight up in bed. “You don’t think the press is going to cover that, right?” I felt sick. What if anything was printed about that little stunt and Cal read about it? Or my mother?
“It’s not like he said he was putting his dick in you immediately following the fight,” Stacey said.
“You aren’t being helpful!” I got out of bed and went over to where I left my laptop sitting on the table. I popped it open and started googling. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t see anything.”
“Yet,” Stacey offered.
“Stacey!”
“Calm down,” she said. “He said it at the end of his scripted comments?”
“Yes.”
“If anyone bothered to tape the whole thing, it’s one sentence at the end. And he didn’t say anything outrageous. Don’t worry about it. I’d concentrate more on riding that man for all he’s worth while the getting’s good.”
I had my Twitter feed up, and I saw a new alert pop up in my feed that I used to track Shayne’s social media mentions. He had his own hashtag. I told myself I wasn’t acting like a stalker by doing it. Just taking a healthy interest in my client’s reputation.
Guess what I’m doing backstage? #hardasice
The tweet had a picture attached to it. It was the brunette. She was wrapped around Shayne’s body in a possessive way, and they were in a passionate liplock. I closed the lid of my computer. I had known what Marcus taking the woman backstage meant, but seeing the reality of it made my blood boil.
“Alexa, are you still there?”
“I’m not interested in a fling, and I’m not interested in Shayne. He’s an asshole.”
“That’s not what it sounds like your body is saying.”
“I’ll call you when I get back to Chicago,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about my body or Shayne’s body or our bodies together anymore. He was never going to lie a finger on me again.
“Take a warm bath. Get some sleep. Call me in the morning. You’re worrying over nothing,” Stacey said.
When I hung up, I opened my laptop again and stared at the picture for a long time. For a few minutes, I had entertained the idea that there was something to worry about. But it was clear that Shayne had already moved on. Whatever blip we might have been on the radar, it was over.
CHAPTER NINETEEN – SHAYNE
It felt good to be back in my own gym on my own turf, but I was hitting the bags like they had threatened to kill me. That had everything to do with the long bus ride home and then the call I got from my dad shortly after we got back.
Lex hadn’t even looked at me when we got on the bus. When I tried to talk to her, she had moved seats and kept her nose buried in her laptop. After trying to get her attention several times, I could tell that the guys were on the verge of never letting me live it down. So I left her alone. She disappeared as soon as the bus rolled up to the gym. I was tempted to call her, but then I remembered. I had made an agreement with myself to leave her alone, and she clearly didn’t want anything to do with me. It was better for everyone that way.
My phone rang less than five minutes after I had unlocked the gym door and stepped inside.
“Shayne.” I wasn’t sure why my father assumed simply saying my name was any kind of greeting. I knew the tone, though. I was about to get my ass reamed.
“Calvin.” Two could play at that game.