Conner

 

“I’m not really familiar with Upton’s ground work,” Steele said. “But I’ve seen a few videos, and he leans right a lot. He’s weak on the left side, so take advantage of that.”

“Got it,” I said.

I’d been training nonstop for the past week. I was man enough to admit to myself that most of it had been to keep my mind off Willow. I hadn’t seen her once, nor had I heard from her. Not that she had my number, but there were other ways to get a hold of me. She’d not been to the gym, and that pissed me off more than anything because she needed to keep up with her lessons. I didn’t want to be the reason she wasn’t committed to learning how to protect herself, and I knew that I was.

I hadn’t slept a full five hours in six days. My body was heavy, my head clouded, and my breathing labored. I wasn’t anywhere near ready to fight. But no one cared about that; the show must go on. And so, I entered the cage, for the first time in all my time training, defeated before I even fought. My mind was tormented with doubt. I peered back at Steele, feeling like I was letting him down somehow.

I didn’t even remember the referee signaling. I took so many punches, I stopped counting at ten. I rolled a couple of times, locking and loading on him, but was unable to get a good grip on an ankle lock. I knew the moment he rolled me over, I was done.

Rolling forward, I escaped his attempt at a choke hold. Standing up, dizziness overtook me, and I thought I was going to faint. I tried twice to dodge his fist and failed. My feet were planted flat on the ground, and it felt like I had cinder blocks attached to them. I wasn’t strong enough to pick one foot up and place it in front of the other. My vision blurred, lightness turning to darkness as I tried to make it to the corner. I fell, just short of reaching the cage, and landed on the ground like a ton of bricks. Knocked out.

I came to with Steele at my head, slapping my cheeks, telling me to wake up. I looked around the cage, not sure what had happened. The last thing I remembered was stumbling around.

“Morning sunshine.” His expression was tense, even though he tried to joke. “You good?”

“Yeah.” I tried to sit up. Extreme nausea shot through my stomach, and I fell back.

“Hold tight.” His voice trailed off.

The next thing I knew, I was in the locker room on the medic table. I pushed myself up, leaning on my elbow the whole time. Due to my injuries, I couldn’t take a deep breath. I reached for my ribs, but a warm hand touched my side.

“Hey. You’re okay. Lay back down.”

I shook my head, thinking I was hallucinating. Willow’s voice was soft as a lullaby. I listened as she told me over and over how to take slow and steady breaths. Just like a song, I breathed to the rhythm of her voice.

After a couple of hours, the house doctor cleared me to go home. I felt fine at that point, but Steele and Willow both discussed taking care of me as if I were a child. But I shut up and listened, more so because my head pounded steady enough to make me feel like throwing up, and also because I didn’t have anything to say. I tried not to think about it too much, given the shape I was in, but I’d just lost a fight. Losing wasn’t a feeling I was familiar with. Not in the cage anyway.

The biggest problem with the loss was that I had beaten myself. I’d given my opponent the win, and I didn’t understand why. Out of all the shit I’d been through in my life, I’d never given up. Until now. I’d thrown in the towel before the bout had even begun. In light of my revelation, I just wanted to go home. I wanted to be alone. I needed to try and understand why I was willing to lie flat on my fucking back for a girl. One who’d all but rejected me.

“I’ll take good care of him.” Willow was all business, her hand rubbing my arm. “I will call you if we need anything.”

“Watch him. He’ll be okay, just try to keep him up for a while,” Steele told her.

“I promise.” Willow walked out of the locker room.

“You good?” Steele asked me, walking around the table.

“Yeah, man.” I sat up, fighting the nausea. “I will be.”

“Payne, I—”

“Don’t.” I could see the questions in his eyes. I could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“What happened?” he asked anyway.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I was ashamed of myself.

He nodded in understanding, but I knew he wasn’t going to let it go. It wasn’t in his nature. “We’ll talk later.”

Willow re-entered the room like a tornado. Moving quickly to my locker, she picked up both my bags, grabbed my keys and phone, and moved toward me looking like a high school football manager. I wondered how she was able to carry all my shit, knowing everything probably weighed more than she did.

“I pulled the car up to the back door,” she said. “Get him there, and I can do the rest.”

“What about when you get home?” he asked.

“I got this, Steele,” she snapped.

Had I been in my right mind, I would have laughed at his face. He was genuinely concerned, although he knew I’d be okay. I hadn’t noticed before, but looking at her now, Willow was pissed. Her brow creased severely, and she was all business. As I leaned on Steele, I walked out to her car, following at a much slower pace. Her steps were quick, and she stuffed my belongings into the back seat, then opened the passenger side door.

Once I had fallen into the seat, she leaned over me, buckling my seatbelt. Had I any energy, I would have brought her into me. I would have smelled her, and touched her skin, and reveled in the sensation while doing it. But there would be none of that tonight.

After buckling my seatbelt, she slid out the passenger side door, and walked back to the driver side, without so much as a smile in my direction. I could hear her talking to Steele outside the vehicle. I couldn’t hear what they were saying though, and I didn’t much care. My head was pounding.

“Can you turn the air on?” I asked as we made our way onto the highway. Sweat beads formed at my hairline. I took a deep breath and winced at the pain in my side.

“Sure. Whatever you need, right?” The sarcasm was thick.

At her curtness, I opened one eye, while squinting with the other. I hadn’t even looked at her since we’d started on our path to either my house or hers, I wasn’t sure. I closed the eye that was open, gingerly leaning back in the seat, and dozed off.

“Come on, dummy! I can’t carry you and all your shit.”

I awoke to her voice, and her tugging on my arm. It was an ill attempt, as I was still buckled into the seatbelt. I batted her hand away and felt around for the buckle. Once I was free, I pushed myself up, feeling unbalanced. I walked, with her help, up to my front door.

She fumbled with the keys, trying the wrong one before she was able to unlock the door. I held a chuckle in at the fact I only had two keys on the ring. The other was for my truck. She was out of sorts and frantic in her movements, even though everything around me seemed to stand still.

“Get on the couch, and I’ll put your things away.”

“Thanks.” It wasn’t like she heard me, as she’d already started down the hallway.

I stumbled over and fell into the cushions. I wished I had a pillow, but there was no way in hell I was asking her for anything. Not with the mood she was in.

“Wake up, Conner. Conner? Steele said to keep you awake.”

“I’m awake,” I lied.

“No, you’re not.”

I leaned up, adjusting myself in a halfway seated position, but couldn’t find any comfort. I slid back into the corner of the couch, trying to clear my head enough to prepare for what she was about to dish out. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” She walked out of the room, only to return seconds later. I noticed she looked awfully comfortable in my small home, considering she’d never been there before. She punched the pillow from my bed, making me flinch each time, and then stuffed it behind my head.

“Look, I’m fine. You don’t have to stay.” I didn’t want her to feel obligated.

“Shut up.” Her eyes blazed with anger.

My pain had started to subside, not from healing, but because I was focused on her. I grabbed her wrist with more grip than intended, and pulled her onto the couch next to me. “What’s the deal? Why are you being like this?”

“I’m pissed.”

“Why? Not that I would remember at the moment, but I don’t recall doing anything to you.” The vein in my temple thumped in time with my heartbeat.

“Seriously? You didn’t do anything to me? God, you’re dense.”

I shook my head, squinting in agony as the throbbing intensified. “I’m not following.”

“Out of all the fights I’ve been to, I have never—ever—seen anything like that. Do you have any idea how scared I was? Do you know what you put me through watching that shit show?” Tears formed in her eyes and it seemed like every time they were ready to fall, her eyelids would suck them back in.

My shoulders fell at her admission. “Sometimes, I feel like I hate you,” I whispered. Fighting off the pain, I pulled her into my arms.

I’d wanted to say love. Sometimes, I felt like I loved her, and it was complete and total crap. I’d barely spent any time with her, but I just knew. Everything about her made me gravitate toward her. Her hair, her body, her smile, her smell, the way she called me a dummy when she was pissed…all of it. But most of all, I knew I could trust her. There was no substitute for that.

Her body relaxed as she snuggled into me. I wasn’t sure she’d gotten my joke until she said, “I hate you too, especially when I see you hurt. That makes me despise you.” She hugged me tight, bringing my body flush with hers.

It was fucked up, but I knew in that moment, we were both admitting our feelings for each other. I’d just told her I loved her, and she’d done the same. Anyone who could evoke those feelings in me had my heart, whether they wanted it or not. Even if it was shredded and harder than stone. She didn’t seem to mind.

After allowing the heavy emotions that were tied to my fight to wear off, we stayed up all night talking about our childhoods, debating whose was worse. I won that sad competition. Willow told me about her mom, and how she couldn’t wait for me to meet her. I smiled at all the right moments, but didn’t disclose much about my mother. I told her she’d all but disowned me, and left it at that. I didn’t feel the need to put that much negativity out in the open, being that it was basically our first night together.

I learned that she and Lena had become friends quickly, and that she counted her as one of her closest confidantes. She was Willow’s Steele. I told her the story of how Steele and I met, and how it took me a couple of times at the gym before I talked to him. She was curious about how I came to fight, so I told her. In the beginning, it was more due to Steele badgering me, and also a way to make money. Not so much after tonight, but before then, I had begun to see it as a career opportunity. Steele was doing it, why not me? Well, tonight was one of the reasons I was not ready. Quitters didn’t deserve a chance at going pro.

Clarity formed somewhere between the top half of my body softening, and the bottom half ready to burst through my clothes like the Hulk. God, she felt good; cuddled so close to me, I could smell her shampoo and feel every contour of her body. I ran my hands over her, as I memorized every curve, every soft patch of skin, and the way her hour-glass figure was dramatized when she was turned onto her side.

I lifted her shirt, calculating every move. I even went as far as having her nod for confirmation. Too much too quick could compromise how far we’d come in such a short amount of time. I finally knew what it meant to love someone. A woman who I never wanted to give up. Who I needed to touch. Someone to talk to about something as insignificant as my childhood. Given that I’d barely remembered it, going back there hadn’t been as bad as I thought it would have been. At least, not with her.

My palm slid firmly from her ribcage into the dip of her waist, then up and over her smooth hips. God, I wanted to put my mouth on her. Pain was the last thing on my mind. My muscles, as tight as they were, felt like putty. My adrenaline spiked as she made a small, contented sigh, and placed her head under my chin. Her eyelashes tickled when they fluttered closed.

She stayed silent, letting me explore her. Goose bumps sprinkled across her bare skin. My palm searched her softness, as if my thirst would be quenched by her preciousness. I had a moment where I wanted to look in her eyes, so I could pinpoint every twinkle, all the times they widened with each move I made, but I wouldn’t interrupt our rhythm.

Like a blind man going through life, I paced my traces in time with the beat of my heart. Every thump, I inched further upward, until I was unbuttoning her blouse and cradling her forward, so I could undress her.

She kept her eyes closed as I did away with her blouse, not even noticing its color. Her bra though…that was black. My index finger fondled the lace just beneath the wire holding her perfect breast in place. My thoughts of seeing her eyes fell by the wayside as I took in her bare skin. Leaning over her, I pulled her close, causing her back to fall onto the cushions as I took my place on top of her.

I couldn’t recall another time I’d ever felt so turned on. Sure, I’d had multiple partners along the way—some of them even more experienced than I’d been—but I had never witnessed more beauty in any creature who ever lived on Earth.

Rubbing the spot I’d picked out moments before, I pressed my lips against hers. I’d imagined it a million different ways, but joyful hadn’t been one of them. Kissing her again made me happy. Not satisfied. Not sated. Not even content. I smiled without control, each time my tongue slipped inside her.

Willow’s soft sighs and small movements engulfed my body like music. Just like the beat of a killer song, she had my body gyrating in time with her breaths. We were in perfect sync as I slid the cups of her bra up and took the tip of her breast into my mouth. I never wanted to let go.

She’d showed impeccable strength while I touched her, but her hands pushed through my hair, tugging gently until she reached the ends. My headache was gone. There was not one sign of discomfort from my fight earlier. All I could feel was her. She was as worked up as I was, and I reveled in the fact that I had a hand in her feeling that way. As my lips worked every square inch of her chest, my fingertips barely grazed her thighs. She kicked her shoes off and dug her heels into my ass.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

She willed me to be closer to her, and I wanted to be. I ground my arousal into her center as hard as I could. I needed her to remember me. To leave a mark on her soul. I wanted her to experience a different kind of pain. Not insecurities about where I’d been, or where we would go. Not thinking about being cornered by her sleazy boss. Not hurt because she’d just witnessed her man lay down and lose without ever trying. No. I wanted the aching to go so far beyond hurting, that it actually felt good.

My body moved against her in a cadence that pulled moans from her throat. And when I took her to the next level, without ever losing our clothes, it took me so high, I was afraid to come down.

“Conner.” Her hands slid from the back of my head to my chin, where she absently fondled the hair there.

I wondered if she regretted letting me touch her. It hadn’t been something I’d ever concerned myself with before. Rejection happened, then you moved on to the next woman. That had been a given. But with Willow, I didn’t want to move on.

I hated myself in that moment. There was something parallel with her and alcoholism. The lure felt similar to the pull of the liquid poison, and I wasn’t sure if it would be healthy for me to partake. Not just in the physical, but in the emotional part of her. She was already bringing out feelings in me that I hadn’t even been aware existed. And now that I’d tasted her and held her in my arms, I couldn’t think of anyone else. One addiction was clearly taking the place of another.

“Hey.” She spoke aloud again, this time softly like she was coddling a baby.

“You’re beautiful.” I didn’t know if I’d get another chance to tell her, and I wasn’t going to let her go without doing so. I leaned back, giving her room to put her blouse back on if she wanted.

She wasn’t having any of it. Hooking each of her legs onto the back of my thighs, she brought me down to her again. This time, I waited as she took the lead. Her hands rubbed my fevered skin, until she lifted my shirt up and over my head. Our gazes never lost contact as she dropped the shirt beside the couch.

“I don’t ever want to see your body look like this again.” Her nails scraped gently across my bruised chest. “I can’t do it, Conner.”

“I know.” I kissed her trembling lips.

“No.” She stopped me by pushing on my chest. “I physically can’t do it. It reminds me of something I hate.” I quirked an eyebrow at her choice of words. “Not that kind of hate.” She rolled her eyes. “Real hate, the kind where self-loathing is the positive adjective to describe what I felt about myself. There was a time where . . .”

“Where what?” I lifted myself up on my elbows, giving her my full attention. As much as I wasn’t one for small talk, I hung on her every word.

“Where I didn’t care what happened to me. Where I spent time shadow-boxing my other half. I saw that in you—in the cage. I promised myself I’d never be weak like that again. Promise me you’ll do the same.” Her hand pushed harder, demanding my vow.

“I promise,” I whispered.

Lifting my pinky up to hers, we both kissed each other’s skin, giving the promise more weight. I knew I loved her then. So much so, that even though we fell asleep in each other’s arms without making love, I’d never been more fulfilled.

I loved her, and I’d never love anyone else.