Chapter Twenty-One
Shane
I nursed my beer, determined to take it slow, at least until I got my eyes on Brooklyn. I wanted to get my hands on her, but with her brothers and the rest of the team around, I’d have to get creative.
A tap on my shoulder had me turning around, a wide smile on my face. “I knew you couldn’t resis—” I hit the brakes when I saw it wasn’t Brooklyn. Instead, a girl with long brown hair stood behind me. Pretty in the conventional sense of the word, but I wanted unconventional.
“You’re right, I couldn’t resist.” She placed her hand on my shoulder and leaned closer. “Buy me a drink?”
My shitty luck chose that moment to display itself, Brooklyn walking in with Finn, just in time to see the girl hanging on me. An ugly, bitter part of me wanted to use the opportunity to see if I could make her jealous, the way the toxic emotion churned through me every time she mentioned her boyfriend. But we didn’t get a lot of time away from the gym, and I didn’t want to waste it playing games. “I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for someone.”
She propped herself on the stool to my left and crossed her legs, making her skirt creep higher on her thighs. “I can help you pass the time.”
It’d been a while since someone had so blatantly hit on me. It’d happened a lot more a few years ago, when I’d been more recognizable. The stool to my right slid out with a scraping noise, and I did a double take when it was the very woman I’d been hoping for the first time around. And holy shit, did she look gorgeous tonight. Her hair was extra curly, her lips extra pink, and her shirt highlighted one of my favorite assets of hers.
“Here she is,” I said, turning fully to face Brooklyn. I did my best to convey that I didn’t want to be in my current predicament.
Brooklyn wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.”
The brunette’s smile tightened and then she excused herself and went back to her group of friends.
Unfortunately, Brooklyn immediately dropped her arm. Not that that stopped Finn from scrunching up his brow as he looked at us. “I’m his buffer for all his fangirls,” Brooklyn said. “You know how they get.”
“Well, send them my way,” Finn said as he took the next stool over. He and Brooklyn ordered drinks, and by the time the bartender slid them across the bar, several of the guys from our team had trickled in, including Liam. He seemed more relaxed here, but I wasn’t delusional enough to think he wouldn’t care about me getting close to his sister.
So much for getting to spend time with her.
“So, was she not your type?” Brooklyn sipped from her drink, and for the second time this week I had trouble pulling my focus away from the way her lips wrapped around a straw. “The brunette from earlier? She was super pretty.”
“Yeah, but can she do a single leg takedown with a sneak-attack sweep? Or an arm bar?”
“So you’re saying you like them butch,” she said with a laugh.
“That depends. Would you call yourself butch?”
She pursed her lips and gave me that look that usually preceded a not-so-gentle reminder that she had a boyfriend. I got it. I wasn’t great at boundaries—as demonstrated a couple of nights ago in the hallway at the gym—so she felt the need to keep reminding me, but it sucked every single time.
“Would you seriously want to help me land a girl for the night?” I locked my eyes on hers, challenging her to tell the truth—to admit that she would care. With her this close, her familiar floral scent flooding my senses, I couldn’t even think about other girls. I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind since the day her laugh earned me a smack to the side of the head, and it only intensified by the day.
“Hey, we’re going to move to a table near the back,” Finn said. “I ordered a couple of pitchers, although you—”
“I’m stopping at this one.” Earlier today I’d told them I’d take the contract for the smaller fight, which meant this would be my last taste of alcohol for a while. My whole diet was about to get that much stricter, as well as my training.
Brooklyn ended up across the table from me, too far to touch unless I stretched out a leg. For a bunch of guys who claimed they wanted to kick back and relax for a night, there sure was a lot of talk of upcoming fights, both the team’s and the big league title fights, along with a debate about which protein shake was the best.
“Hey, Knox,” Adam hollered from the end of the table. “You got a fight lined up yet?”
“It’s in progress. Sounds like I’ll have to start at the very bottom again, but that’s life.” I sipped my beer, trying to savor the last inch as I convinced myself I wasn’t too good for the bottom, even if it’d take longer to get where I wanted.
Brooklyn curled into herself, and I wondered who’d said what. I replayed the conversation but couldn’t find anything that should’ve caused that reaction. But now she, Liam, and Finn were exchanging glances that spoke of information the rest of us weren’t in on.
The subject changed again—well, same topic but not pointed at me—and I stretched out my leg and tapped my foot to Brooklyn’s. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to her. A simple one, with just the word “Now.”
A smile curved her lips before she schooled her features and shot me a look that was heavy on the behave implication.
I had no intention of behaving.
Brooklyn pushed away from the table. “I can’t drink this shitty, cheap beer anymore. I’m going to grab a real drink.” I wanted to offer to get it, or to go with her, but both would cause suspicion, and this was bullshit. It was hard to talk to her at the gym, hard to talk to her now, and I wanted to go somewhere alone, even if all we did was talk.
Finn smacked Liam’s shoulder and then jerked his chin toward the bar. “We might have a situation.”
“Shit,” Liam said.
I automatically glanced that way, and my blood turned to ice when I noticed the guy talking to Brooklyn. She was waving her arms, clearly not happy, and I was out of my seat the next second. I didn’t realize Finn and Liam had also stood until Liam placed a hand on my chest.
“I think it’s best if you stay out of—”
“I’m coming,” I said, the muscles in my body coiled tight.
“Fine, but you make sure to keep your fists to your fucking self, or this could get ugly fast. None of us need an assault with a deadly weapon charge on our record. It’s hard to fight in the cage while you’re in one with prison bars.”
It was something I’d worked hard to engrain in my head ever since I learned that being a trained fighter upped assault charges to the “deadly weapon” level. No more street fights or brawls for me. I nodded to show I understood, and then we made long strides across the bar.
Both Brooklyn and the guy she was talking to glanced our way as we approached, and it took me a second to place his face with his name. Conrad “Croc” Rochenski, a guy who was making a run at the same welterweight title I was, but he was way ahead of me.
“Wow, that was record fast,” Conrad said. “We’re just talking.”
My mind scrambled to find the connection. He didn’t live in San Francisco, so he couldn’t be the boyfriend. He was local. There’d also been extra buzz around him lately, since his opponent had dropped out of their upcoming bout due to an injury.
“You were talking, I’m leaving.” Brooklyn turned away from him, and he caught her wrist and jerked her back a few steps, making her stumble on her heels.
Red flashed through my vision, and Finn grabbed on to my arm and held firm. “We gotta resolve this calm-like,” he said. “None of us want to screw up our careers over a bar brawl.”
I clenched my teeth so hard I was surprised one didn’t crack. “Then he better fucking let her go.”
A stupid smirk spread across Conrad’s face. “Who’s the new guy?”
Brooklyn wrenched her arm out of his grip. “Don’t you recognize him? Shane Knox, the guy you’re too afraid to fight.”
The veins and tendons in his neck popped out as his fists clenched at his sides. My muscles stretched tighter as I forced myself to go against my instincts and hold back—if he touched her again, all bets were off. “I’m not afraid to fight him. I’ll go right now.” Conrad slammed his fist into his open palm, and if that was his intimidation tactic, it needed work. I’d show him just how hard a fist could slam into him.
“Not here, dumbass,” Brooklyn said. “In the cage. But you’re too scared to take on a real opponent because it might mess up the record you got by only stepping into the octagon with cake guys.”
“He’s not up to my level, sweetheart. He’s just a washed-up has-been.”
The “sweetheart” and the intimate way he used it grated my frayed nerves, and I could see why Liam warned me against throwing a punch—a few seconds around the guy and it was impossible not to want to.
“Well, I’ve been watching him train, and if you actually had the balls to fight him, you’d see that he’s far from washed-up.” Brooklyn backed away from him, moving toward us, and I stretched out my hand for hers. As soon as she took it, I pulled her to me. Instead of keeping space between us the way I’d expected her to, she put her hand on my chest. Her eyes met mine and then she moved her lips next to my ear. “You want a big fight? One in the octagon with this asshole?”
I nodded, not completely following, but then she looped her arm around my neck, her body fitting to mine, and I didn’t care about any of the other details.
“Then just go with this,” she whispered. She ran her free hand up, into my hair, and raised her voice. “We’ll get you a bigger, better fight, baby. One that’ll entertain the crowd and have them begging for more. None of the yawn-fests Conrad’s fights have been reduced to this past year.”
I slipped my hand into her back pocket, hauling her tighter against me. Desire heated my blood and the resulting endorphin rush from having my hands on her tempted me to take it a step further and claim that sassy mouth while I could get away with it. I restrained myself to nuzzling her neck and then nipping at her ear. “God, you’re sexy when you get all feisty.”
Her eyes fluttered and she looked up at me through her lashes, almost as if she’d forgotten where she was, then the vixen, for-show smile returned. She ran her hand down my arm and linked her fingers with mine. “Come on. Let’s go finish our drinks and leave the pussies to rehash their glory days with the bartender.”
Not that I ever had any doubts that she could crush someone, but damn. It should make me hesitate to even think about getting involved with her, but it only succeeded in making me want her that much more.