by Vi Keeland
My nose catches a scent and I’m surprised. “Chicken Franchese?”
Nico smiles at me as he walks into the kitchen. “Very good.”
“I’m impressed. You can cook?” I never gave it any thought before, but in the years that I have been seeing William, he has never once cooked for me. I’m not even sure if he even can cook.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’m pretty good at it, if I may say so myself.” Nico walks to the oven and checks on dinner.
“Do you cook often?” I’m so curious about this man.
“I have to, it’s part of the sport. You can’t keep in shape and eat crap, so you learn to cook healthy pretty fast if you’re serious about fighting.”
I nod, it makes sense. It’s next to impossible to maintain a good diet when you live off restaurants and takeout. I should know. The only choice is salad, which is how I have been able to keep thin, but a man that looks like Nico needs an intake of way more calories than a salad could supply. “Do you still fight?” I don’t even think before the words come out of my mouth. Maybe he doesn’t like to talk about fighting. I remember the newspaper saying he had retired after what had happened, but he was definitely younger than whatever the normal age is for fighters to retire.
Nico tells me dinner is ready and puts out an entire meal of salad, vegetables and the main dish. I noticed that he didn’t answer my question, and I’m not sure if it was intentional or just the timing.
We sit at the table for a long time after we eat. I tease him about how domestic he is and he teases me about how dependent I am on takeout. He laughs when I tell him I’m on a first name basis with at least five deliverymen. Our conversation flows naturally and time goes by fast. Too fast. Eventually we relocate to the couch and our conversation turns to how he got into MMA. Nico tells me he’s the youngest of four boys and was raised by a single mother who worked two jobs.
“I got my ass kicked a lot. My mom was at work at night and my brothers were into wrestling big time.”
I laugh at the notion that Nico could get his ass kicked. “You? I hate to see what your brothers look like.”
Nico laughs, “I was always big for my age. When I was eight or nine my mother would warn my brothers that some day I was going to be bigger and stronger and get even with them for the years of ganging up on me. I don’t think they expected that day to come when I was only twelve.”
“How old were your brothers when you were twelve?”
“We’re all two years apart so they were fourteen, sixteen and eighteen.”
“You were bigger than the eighteen-year-old at twelve?”
“I don’t know if I was bigger than him back then. But I could fight better. I remember the day that it happened too. Joe, the eighteen-year-old, came home and I was drinking out of his cup.”
“His cup? He had his own cup?”
Nico laughs. “It sounds worse than it is. But yeah, he had a cup and none of us were allowed to drink out of it. I used to take it out when he wasn’t home and pour a big glass of milk and dunk my cookies into it.”
“On purpose?”
“Yeah, on purpose. I liked to use it when he wasn’t home, it gave me a secret satisfaction.” Nico smiles and shakes his head, realizing how silly it sounds to have taken satisfaction from using someone else’s cup. “But one day he came home early and caught me. We went at it like we usually did. We broke the coffee table and the end table wrestling around. Mom used to get pissed when we broke the furniture. But after we rolled around for a while, I pinned his ass to the floor.”
I smile watching Nico tell his story with such fondness in his voice. I’d never heard anyone speak of fighting with such reverence. To me, fighting has always meant hatred and violence and ugly things. But oddly enough, when Nico speaks of his brothers he makes it sounds like it comes from love and beauty.
Nico stands, “How about a glass of wine?”
“Sure, I’d love that.”
Nico brings me a glass of wine, but nothing for himself. “Aren’t you having one?”
“I don’t drink when I’m training.” He sits next to me on the couch, much closer than he had been before. My leg touches his inadvertently when I lean forward to set my drink down and when I look back at Nico he’s looking at our legs where they meet. He notices me watching him and he brings his eyes back to mine. I’m mesmerized as he looks into my eyes and then slowly his eyes drop to my mouth for a long moment. I can tell he’s forcing his gaze back to mine against his will when his beautiful green eyes refocus on mine. His eyes are dilated now and my breath hitches when I see my own desire reflected back at me.
“Oh.” I swallow hard. What were we talking about? Drinking. Drinking while training. “Are you training for a fight?”
Something different passes over his face at my question, and I’m not sure what it is. “Not really.” Nico ponders for a second. “But if you ask Preach, he might say differently.” He chuckles. The mood has changed and I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved.
I lean forward and take another sip of my wine. “Preach?”
“He’s my trainer.”
I wait for more, but nothing comes. “Why would Preach think you’re training for a fight if you aren’t?”
“Because he thinks he knows me better than I know myself.”
“Does he?” Nico is surprised by my question. I watch as he thinks before he responds. I like that he doesn’t just spit out an answer. He seems to consider his words carefully.
“Maybe. I’ve been with him since I was fifteen. He does know me pretty well.”
“He started training you when you were fifteen?”
“No, not at first. When I was fifteen my mom lost her second job, so my uncle got me a job at a gym so I could help out. Preach hired me to clean up and hold the heavy bag while the fighters trained. One afternoon, the regular sparring practice guy didn’t show and I talked Preach into letting me fill in. I was good at blocking shots from my three brothers, so it wasn’t hard for me to catch their shots with the pads. I did that for a little while and then one of their best fighters, who I thought was an arrogant asshole, took a cheap shot at me while we were sparring and it pissed me off, so I hit him back and we went at it. I wound up kicking his ass and the rest is history. Preach started training me after that.”
We spend the next few hours talking about my work and Nico’s family. When he finally drives me back home, the early morning people are already out jogging. The whole night flowed effortlessly, without any uncomfortable moments until we’re in front of my apartment building.
Nico parks his bike and helps me off, not releasing my hand when I’m off. He stands close and looks down at me and I think he’s going to kiss me. But instead he leans down until I feel his breath on my neck. My whole body responds and I lean in against him ever so slightly, but it’s enough for my body to be grazing up against his tight chest.
His mouth is so close to my ear, it sends shivers down my spine. I want him to kiss me so badly, but don’t want to want him to kiss me. His words are a whisper in my ear as he speaks. “I’d love to see you again. You let me know when the not really turns into a solid no.”
My body is in heat from being so close to him. I’m disappointed he doesn’t kiss me, but relieved at the same time. He’s right for reminding me about William. Nico releases the hand that he is still holding and I smile up at him before I turn to walk away. I take a few steps away from him and turn back. “Why did you pick me up on a motorcycle if you have an SUV in the garage?”
Nico looks down sheepishly and then I see the cocky lopsided smile that just melts me somehow. “I wanted to feel your arms wrapped around me tightly.”
Right. Damn. Answer. He’d kept his word all night and been a perfect gentleman. I smile at him and begin to turn to walk away, but my feet take me back in the other direction. They seem to have a mind of their own. I need to feel him once more. I rush the four steps it takes me to get back in his space. Nico doesn’t move, h
e stays still and watches me intently. Waiting. I reach up and press my lips firmly to his and the electricity that had been threatening my body all night zaps to full wattage. Sparks. Fusion. Jolt. It overpowers me. We instantly melt into each other. Nico wraps his arms around my waist, our bodies pressing firmly against each other, neither of us able to get close enough. His arms are locked so tight, there’s no way I could escape if I wanted to. But I definitely don’t want to.
When we finally break the kiss, we’re both panting. Nico leans his forehead into mine and I catch my breath enough to speak. “I wanted to feel your arms wrapped around me tightly, too.”
Nico smiles at my words and I turn to walk away. I really don’t want to walk away, but I know if I don’t, I won’t be able to very soon. I walk up the stairs feeling his eyes on my ass with every step and my hips put on a show as they sway with renewed enthusiasm. I open the door and look back to find him watching me and not ashamed to let me know it. I shut the door and lean against it. What the hell am I doing?
Chapter 7
Nico
I’m up at five a.m. every morning. Well, every morning except today. I slept like shit, my body a mass of pent-up frustration. I kept my word all night. Even though all I wanted to do was pick her up, carry her into my bedroom, and ram myself into her to claim her as mine. Then she kissed me. I know I could have taken it further after that kiss. But I don’t want one night with Elle. I want more. I have no idea why, but I do. A lot fucking more.
By the time I drove back home last night, I’d gotten myself under control. I’d reasoned with my hard-on until it finally saw my way. Who knew you could reason with a fucking hard-on. I guess I never tried. I just took care of it, did what it wanted me to.
But then I walked into my loft and I smelled her. And all reasoning went out the window. I couldn’t sleep with a steel pipe in my pants, so I took a cold shower. It didn’t help. Then I was wide awake with a hard-on. I tossed and turned with a picture of Elle smiling at me in my head. Taunting me for being such a sap.
The constant hum of the bell from downstairs reminds me how late I am. It’s almost six. I buzz the elevator up and lift the gate and find Vinny standing there. I swear the kid grew overnight. At thirteen he’s only a few inches shy of six foot already. The kid’s going to be a force of nature sooner, rather than later.
“What the fuck?” The smartass kid has balls of steel to look at me and talk that way. He reminds me of me at that age, and I force myself to cover the smile. I can’t let him think it’s okay to show disrespect.
“Language.” I say sternly.
He rolls his eyes and looks like a teenager again. “What are you, my mom?”
If I was his mom, I’d still be high from the night before. Cracked up on whatever today’s loser brought with him. A different loser every day, but it’s always the same story. She fucks him to get her high for eight hours. It could be bleach he hands her to shoot into her vein. The last time I saw her she was so desperate, it might have been better if someone actually gave her bleach. Put her out of her misery. The kid might be better off in the long run.
“No, I’m not your mom. But I can kick your ass with one hand behind my back, so show me some respect you little shit.”
“So you can curse, but I can’t?”
“I’m an adult.”
“Hypocrite.”
I rub my hands across my face, losing my patience after my lack of sleep. “Go downstairs and give me five miles on the treadmill. If there is any time left before school we’ll train, big mouth.”
Vinny groans, but quickly starts back toward the elevator. When I started training with Preach, all I wanted to do was learn moves. I hated cardio too, it was punishment to a kid who was in a room with a good trainer.
I take my time making my protein shake and make one for Vinny before I head down to the gym. I know there probably isn’t any food in his house. Some of these kids only stay in school because they know they can get a free meal there.
Vinny is drenched in sweat as he runs full out on the treadmill. I smirk as I pass him. I would have done the same thing. The faster you’re done with the cardio, the faster you get to the fighting.
“Preach says you might fight Kravitz.” Vinny gives me a quick left and I duck and easily sweep out his legs while he attempts to rebalance from his miss.
“You’re leaving yourself exposed. Lean into it. Set up your legs.” I extend my hand and pull Vinny back to his feet.
“So is it true? Are you getting back in the cage?”
“Stop gossiping like a little girl and take me down.” The kid needs to focus. Plus, I don’t have an answer to give him.
Vinny shoots in and tries for a double leg takedown. The kid is definitely becoming more explosive.
“Nose up. Back straight. Again.”
He shoots, I wobble for a second, but I don’t fall. Someday kid. Someday.
After another twenty minutes, he’s drenched and I’m warmed up for the day. “Jump in the showers. Make it fast. You got 25 minutes to get to school. If I find out you’re late, next week will be ten miles on the treadmill and there will be no time for training, no matter how fast you run.”
Vinny groans but sprints to the shower. The kid wants it bad. I just hope it’s bad enough to keep him clean with all the shitstorm swirling around him at home.
“See you Monday, Nico.” Vinny jogs by me with his backpack swung over one shoulder. I nod and he’s gone. Out the door after a thirty second shower. I smile knowing he’ll make it to school on time. I pick up the phone and call my brother to give him an update on his student. The kid’s lucky my brother has a soft spot for fighters or he’d have had him expelled the last time he found Vinny pounding a kid three years older than him in the stairwell. But instead, he found him a place to channel the fighting he was doing in the halls. Yep, the kid lucked out when they assigned his teachers.
Chapter 8
Elle
“Sal’s deli just called to see how Leonard was feeling. Business must be down with him out for almost a week.” Regina says with a smile as I hand her the menu for our lunch order.
“He’s probably just afraid we’ll sue him for damages after they’ve fed him those deadly sausage and peppers heroes every day for all these years. You know how much fat and cholesterol are in those things?”
“You know who doesn’t look like he eats any fat at all?” Regina wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and speaks in her best sex kitten voice.
“Nice segway. I think you can turn any conversation into something about Nico Hunter lately. You should’ve been a lawyer.” I laugh at Regina’s latest obsession.
“Do you blame me for being smitten?” Smitten, who uses the word smitten?
I sigh, thinking back to our kiss last night. No, I certainly don’t blame Regina for being smitten. I think I agreed to have dinner with Nico so I could find something wrong with him and get his lethal smile out of my head. But last night only made things worse. I didn’t find a single thing to help me push my wayward thoughts out of my head. In fact, I actually found things that made it harder to stop thinking about him.
“Are you going to tell me about your date or do I need to bring you into the conference room for a formal deposition?”
“How come you never ask about my dates with William, Regina?”
“Because I don’t want to be bored.”
“Regina!” I raise my voice chastising her.
“What?” She smiles at me knowing I’m not really mad. It’s an odd friendship, but the part of my relationship with Regina that I value most is that she is so honest when we talk.
“What makes you think my dates with William are boring?”
“Aren’t they?” Regina grins knowingly.
“William is a nice guy.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t.”
It’s my turn to sigh. Regina is right. My dates with William are boring. Nice, comfortable, but boring. But it’s good for me. I don’t need any e
motional rollercoasters, I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.
***
I don’t leave the office till after ten. I’m handling my caseload and helping out with Leonard’s while he’s still out. I keep myself busy all afternoon and late into the evening after my lunch with Regina. I don’t want to think about Nico. He isn’t what I need. I should be thinking about William. He’s the type of man I should be with. He’s stable, honest, and hard working. He’s good for me and he cares about me. So why are thoughts of Nico keeping me awake? I toss and turn for hours until I’m finally exhausted enough to slip into dreamland.
I wake in the morning to screaming. I’m petrified. Unable to move at the harrowing sound. It takes me almost a full minute to realize that I am the one making the sound. I’m screaming and I can’t stop. The dream is back. It’s not really a dream, it’s a nightmare. Although nightmares are a figment of a person’s imagination, so I guess what I just woke up to wasn’t a nightmare…it was reality. My reality. My memory. My past.
It’s been six years since I woke to the torment that haunted my sleep for as many years. I can’t believe it’s starting again. It took me years to make them go away.
I always wake at the same place in the nightmare. His fist connects with her head and she stumbles back and hits the refrigerator. Hard. Her eyes roll into the back of her head as her body slides down in slow motion. He’s really hurt her this time and it doesn’t look like he’s done with her yet. He leans down, his fist pulled back, ready to pummel her lifeless body. A gunshot blasts. It’s so loud it hurts my head. The sound leaves a high-pitch ringing in my ears. It makes me reach up and cover them. I never knew sound could hurt. I feel like my ears are bleeding.
My hands are always covering my ears when I come to. The sound is so real that it wakes me. Every time is as real as the first time. The vision never dulls.
Chapter 9
Elle
I throw myself into my work to the point of exhaustion for two non-stop days. I think if I wear myself out enough, I’ll be too tired to dream. Whether or not it stops the dreams from coming isn’t important, what’s important is they don’t come for the next few nights so I don’t question why.