I don’t know if that makes me relieved or angry. Fuck it. No time to worry. Who am I kidding? I never worry. In order to worry, you have to care, and I definitely don’t care.
I quickly throw on a T-shirt with Souza MMA emblazoned on the chest and pull on a clean pair of jeans. Out of the bathroom, the evidence of what we did is everywhere. Rumpled bed, clothes on the floor, used condom in the wastebasket, the scent of sex permeating the room—just thinking about Britt on her knees, swallowing my cock while looking up at me with those big blue eyes is getting me hard again.
“Goddammit!” The urge to punch something is near overwhelming. I inhale and struggle to calm down. Control over my mind and body is second nature, but today it’s not so easy. It takes me a few minutes before I’m able to relax.
I snort and hurry down the hall to the elevator. Control over my mind and body? I’m good at it. No, I’m fucking perfect. I have absolute control over my mind and body.
Except, it seems, when it comes to Britt.
The tiny blonde physiotherapist with the exterior of an innocent angel that conceals a seductive temptress who didn’t know she craves pain and rough sex. If I let her, she’ll unravel everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve built to block out the unnecessary things—things like feelings and emotions—things that make living impossible for me to endure. Yet, as I argue with myself as to why it’s a bad idea to be with Britt, I already know I’m going to go down the rabbit hole again if offered the opportunity. Being inside her once isn’t enough for me.
I can easily see Britt becoming an obsession. One with the potential to either save me or destroy me.
The question is, do I want either?
* * *
“Mr. Bishop, do you feel you’re adequately prepared for Saturday’s fight?”
“Mr. Bishop, is it true you trained at Dragon Muay Thai in Bangkok with former world champion, Sirichai Wattana?”
“Killer. Where did you get that name?”
The questions go on and on to the point I want to shove the microphone off the table and knock some of these journalists into next week. Most of them are pushy to the point of rude and cross the line of decency more than once.
“We are done.” Gabriel stands from his seat next to me and I do the same. “We must get ready for the dinner tonight. Thank you for your time.”
Gabriel moves back, letting me go first off the makeshift stage. I hear his heavy footsteps behind me and I brace for the inquisition.
“Killer, in here.” Gabriel stops at an open door in the long hall of empty conference rooms and offices and larger ballrooms.
Without a word, I follow. Gabriel is right to be furious. Whatever he thinks I did with Britt, the reality is sure to be much, much worse.
Gabriel spins around to face me, but his expression is concerned, not angry. “Killer. Are you sure you can handle what you are doing?”
I tense. Not only is his worry surprising, but I’m not certain what it is exactly Gabriel is implying I can’t handle.
Defensive, I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Meu filho, come on. Don’t play stupid. I see the heat between you and Britt.” Thank god I have ten years of practice controlling my reactions, because Gabriel just blew me away. “You didn’t think anyone noticed? Think again.” He laughs. “The two of you practically go up in flames whenever you’re near each other.”
“What? I’m not—”
He waves me off with the flick of a wrist. “Save it. I don’t need excuses. I’m Brazilian. We are passionate people.” Gabriel turns serious, holding my gaze. “Britt is a sweet girl, but troubled, lonely. A lost soul, like you, no?”
Britt is lost and troubled? Okay, yeah, I can admit I noticed something like that. She admitted as much earlier.
“And you,” he continues without waiting for my confirmation. “You act so strong and proud and as if you have no sentimentos inside.” His arm extends and he thumps on my chest with a closed fist. “You think you are empty?” I open my mouth to reply. “Pffft,” he brushes me off again. “I know people. I trained many men over many years. You’re a fighter. You know I am trained as you are, to study the opponent, to learn to pick out the weaknesses and strengths in a man. I know you.”
Fuck.
Heat floods my neck and face. I’m not sure if it’s anger or embarrassment, but either way I don’t like it. I don’t react to other people. They don’t affect me.
But now they do. First Britt, now Gabriel.
“Be careful,” Gabriel says. “I give you both my blessing. I think you could be good for each other. But if you are incapable of being what Britt needs, stop now. I will not see her hurt.”
And there it is. The warning I was waiting for.
I swallow and drop my gaze, my bravado quickly disappearing with Gabriel’s ability to see right through me.