Chapter Thirteen

Ryder

The next few weeks had been full of training as Tristan, true to his word, was hard at work getting fights set up for the rest of the year. I was busy, almost too busy, to remember the weekend in Vegas. But being busy didn’t seem to matter. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit that I couldn't stop thinking about that weekend. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Truth was, she was damn near all I thought of, every single day.

I had caved on two separate occasions — during moments of drunken weakness, might I add — to reach out to her, even though I knew I shouldn’t. But the more I’d thought about her, about our time together, the more I knew that I could be the man she wanted and needed. And I think she knew it too. Maybe that’s what sent her running for the hills. Hell, I didn’t know what kind of baggage she’d had to deal with. What I did know was that, if given the chance, we could make it work. Granted, it might be a little tough with our schedules, but it could be done if we tried. That is, if she were willing to try. Or maybe I had completely misjudged our connection.

Which was possible, since she hadn’t answered the texts I had sent her. Yes, the drunken texts. But they weren’t obviously from someone who’d had few too many. If anything, those texts were probably more on the sweet guy side than they would have been if I hadn’t been drinking.

“God, when did I become such a huge wuss.” I thought out loud.

“You've always been a huge wuss,” someone said from behind me.

“Zip it, Curtis,” I grumbled.

“I don't know what’s going on with you, but you've acted like a big baby who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas these last few weeks.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t,” I said, not wanting him to know what was really wrong. The last thing I needed was for anyone to know that I was allowing myself to be distracted by a woman.

“Let's get you in the ring and let you beat the crap out of one of these cocky kids.”

“Sounds great,” I agreed as I pulled myself from the bench. I wiped the sweat from my brow and moved across the room to the ring. After climbing through the ropes, I moved to the middle of the ring to get ready, and I smelled her. I smelled her scent as if she was standing beside me. I wasn't sure why it hit me all of the sudden, but it threw me off my game. And even though I saw the kid coming toward me from the corner of my eye, my mind was on her.

“What the fuck?” I yelled as I hit the ropes.

“Oh, weren't you ready, rock star?” the kid taunted. Tyler. I made a mental note to remember him. He was twenty years old and full of bravado.

I shook my head and moved back toward the middle, stalking him. I saw the uncertainty in his eyes. He knew he had fucked up with that cheap shot.

“How ready are you now, cock sucker?” I growled. A breath later, I pounced on him, and within a few seconds he was tapping the mat.

“Jesus, you asshole, you trying to kill me?” he shouted as he moved away from me.

“Nope. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. Remember that before you throw cheap shots.” I stalked out of the ring and toward the locker room.

“You good?” Bret, the other trainer, asked as he pushed through his way into the locker room.

“I need a few days.” I pulled my tank over my head and shoved it into my bag. I lifted my duffel and walked toward the door. “I'll check in on Friday.”

“Dude, you can't just check out,” Curtis said as he stood with Bret.

“I need a few days to get my head straight before I do kill somebody. I feel like I have fucking ’roid rage. Completely out of fucking control. And I don’t even do that shit. I need to regroup.”

“What happened?” Curtis asked more quietly as he moved toward me.

“I just have a few things to take care of before I can be in this fucking gym.”

I pushed past both of them and stalked outside. I climbed into my Jeep, clipped my belt, and burned rubber out of the parking lot. I had to see her, or I was going to drive myself crazy.

I was not that creepy stalker guy, never had been before. But as the night moved on, I became him. I searched for her on every social media platform I could think of. I hadn't been able to find her, but I found her friend, Annette, and moved through her friend group until I found Zoey. Zoey had a profile that made it difficult to learn anything, but Annette was an open book. I looked through Annette’s posts until I found a photo that gave me a few clues at least to the neighborhood they lived in. Seemed like they went to a place called TipTop Deli fairly often. There was only one TipTop Deli in New York, and that was in Chelsea. High end, nice.

Feeling guilty for searching for her like this, I looked through more pictures and found multiple pics of places they frequented.

I made plans to be in New York the next morning. I was going to get her to talk to me so we could put this matter to rest. There wasn't a chance in hell that I wasn't going to make this right and even though I wasn't sure why she had been the one to make me feel this way, I couldn't deny it to myself or anyone around me. Curtis and Bret had seen the distraction and had pulled me to get in line and train like I wanted to win a fight, but my mind had other plans. I could still feel her wrapped around me, and I often saw her in places I knew she wasn’t.

I called my dad and told him what I was doing.

“If this gets you back in the ring and less distracted, then do it and do it fast. You cannot raise a belt if you have some woman standing in the way.”

“She isn't just some woman,” I said.

“Well, a one night stand isn't worth all this,” he grumbled.

“She changed me.”

“I don't know if that was for the better or not. Fix it and fix it now, son. This is your future on the line.” The dial tone in my ear was loud and clear. I was going to take this one shot and run with it.

The next morning, I boarded a train and headed into New York. I was glad Dad had taken me into the city so many times. If he hadn't, I would have never been able to find my way around the subway. When I walked out of the tunnel, I looked around, taking in the city. People were everywhere, and I felt my body fill with dread as I realized there was a decent chance I may never find her.

I walked down the street, following my phone as it led me to TipTop Deli. According to Annette's Facebook, they met there a couple times a week. Maybe I would get lucky fairly quickly, or maybe I would sit there all day and wait for her. I didn't have a place to stay, I hadn't thought that far ahead, so I waited. I sat on the patio which was actually only three small dessert tables on the sidewalk. The city was alive, and people rushed down the streets. I had never really been the kind of person who cared about his surroundings, but watching the variety of people that moved around this city was amazing.

An older lady walking her fluffy white dogs down the street paid no mind to those around her. It was easy to see that the streets were hers and had been for a very long time. I saw myself in her, only in the ring instead of on the street. I watched businessmen thundering on their phones and kids rushing between the adults. Couples walked hand in hand and smiled at each other. I sat and watched for a few hours, the waitress checking on me often. I paid for coffee refills, and explained that I was looking for someone and that I would be here a while. She would smile and then move away, cleaning a table close by.

When I saw Annette, my heart stopped. She was moving along the sidewalk with what's-his-name on her arm. I didn't see Zoey with them, but I watched as Annette moved to the crosswalk and then on past me. She was laughing as she walked by, either not noticing me or not recognizing me, I wasn't sure.

I sat in my chair and watched the streets, still looking in Annette’s direction, hoping Zoey would appear. I’d reached an all-time low. I felt kinda bad that I was going to surprise her this way, but I’d run out of options.

“Ryder?” I heard the voice behind me. I knew it was her, but it took a minute for my brain to actually believe she was saying my name.

“Zoey.” I didn't turn and look at her. I keep staring out over the busy New York streets like I couldn’t snap out of it. Then she said my name again, and I turned to find myself looking up at her standing next to my table.

“What…why? I don't understand,” she stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm here for you,” I answered.

“Ryder, I—”

“Don't talk, just sit.” I pointed toward the chair across from me.

“I don't know why you’re here.”

“I'm here for you. I already told you that.”

She sat, and I could feel her studying my face, trying to make sense of this encounter.

“You’re here in New York for me?” she questioned, her voice disbelieving.

“Yes. I needed to talk to you. I know you think we can't do this, that our lives are too different, but let's be honest, I’m a man who finds what he wants and gets it. I found you, and I believe you’re meant to be mine.”

She started to say something, but I raised my hand. “I'm not done. I have a lot of things to say, and I want you to listen.”

I tried not to look her in the eyes, because they distracted me and all I wanted to do was kiss those perfect lips of hers. So, I studied the flowers in the middle of the table instead.

“When you walked into my life,” I said, “I was lost in a world that included only my job. It was all that was important to me. It's all I really cared about. Then you showed up out of nowhere and messed everything up. I had plans, and over the course of a few hours with you, those plans lost more and more of their importance. I felt things that weekend that I've never felt. I felt a connection to another human being I thought was bullshit when I heard people talk about it. A connection I was certain didn’t exist. Now, every time I think of you, it changes me a little more. I don't want to have all of the things I’ve worked so hard for unless I can share them with you. I can't even look at you because I know this all sounds crazy and believe me when I tell you I feel crazy even sitting here. My dad and my trainers think I've lost my edge. They think I’ve lost my will to fight, but they’re wrong. What I’ve lost is my will to be alone in this. I sound like giant wuss, and you know what, I don't even care. I just want a chance to try this.”

By the end of my speech, I was breathing hard. I felt her hand cover mine and looked down at it. I wanted to look her in the eye, but I was afraid of what I might see there. I was afraid that I was moving too fast and being too impulsive. Maybe I was putting everything I had worked so hard for on the line over a two-day Vegas fling.

“Can you at least look at me?” she asked as she scooted her chair next to mine.

I tilted my gaze to meet hers, and found sadness in her green eyes. I looked away, certain she was about to try to let me down again, but felt her hand on my chin pulling my face back toward hers.

“Ryder, I am not denying that what we had was special, but how can you be so sure that we can make it work? Granted, you did come all the way here to tell me this, and we haven't even talked since Vegas.” Her lips curved upward.

I looked over her face. The pull to lean in and press my lips against hers was all I could feel. Her soft smile was everything I needed.

I cleared my throat. “I don't know how to further explain myself other than to say, I want you.”

“It isn't enough, Ryder. I wish it were, but it isn't. I can't throw away my own dreams to follow you around the country, watching you fight.”

I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow, confused. “I have no idea why you think that's what I want from you. I never said anything like that. I want you in my life, yes. But I would never ask you to give up on your dreams.”

“I'm confused,” she said as she studied my face.

“Confused about what?” I asked.

“This. You.”

“I don't know what there is to be confused about. I just need to have access to you. I need to hear your voice when we’re apart, and I need to know you’re in my corner, the same way I’ll be in yours. Will it be hard? Probably, but I have this feeling that in the end it will be worth it.”

I watched her expression as it softened and she leaned toward me.

“I can't make promises,” she whispered into my neck as she leaned against my shoulder.

“Holy shit! Ryder?” Annette squawked as she moved toward the table. She stood over us. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to talk to my girl,” I responded.

“Your girl?” She smiled.

“Maybe. If she'll have me.”

“Oh, she'll have you,” Annette announced. “She’s been talking about you for weeks, and I am done hearing about it.”

“Really, Annette? I cannot believe you just said that,” Zoey said, her voice high-pitched.

“Well, it's the truth.” Annette put her hands on her hips. “You should be glad that a man would take the time to find you. How did you know we would be here today?” Annette asked as she pulled a chair from another table and sat down.

“Your Facebook,” I replied and looked over at Zoey.

“You stalked my Facebook page?” Annette smiled, then starting laughing.

“I've told you a hundred times to make it private.” Zoey pouted as she looked over at her.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Annette grinned. “If I listened to you, which I don't, he would not be sitting here.”

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” I asked Zoey.

“I don't think—” Zoey started to reply, but she was interrupted.

“Yes, she will go and talk to you.” Annette pushed her from her chair and in my direction. I grabbed her before she face-planted into my lap. When Zoey cut her eyes in Annette’s direction, I knew that I would get a little time.

I pulled her up and started to walk away, tightening my hold on her hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I don't know? It's your city, where can we talk?”

“Follow me.” She turned around and headed back toward the restaurant we’d just left. When we reached it, she kept walking and then turned the corner. I followed her as she walked another block and then turned, taking a few steps down to a door. She punched in a code, and the door opened.

“Come on,” she said.

I’d follow this woman anywhere.