Outmatched Page 58

Renewed heat shot straight to my core. “That is a very, very good answer.”

He grinned, and then I squealed in delight as he hauled me off the table and carried me to his bathroom.

Then we spent the rest of the afternoon coming our brains out.

And it was spectacular.

Until afterward, as I lay sated and sweaty in his bed, my legs tangled with his. I reached for him, caressing the backs of my fingers down his chest that was now damp with perspiration. “We need to come up with a game plan for Fairchild.”

Rhys’s sigh was one of pure exasperation. “I don’t want to talk about him when we’re in bed. It’s almost enough to turn me off for the rest of the day.”

I sighed with my own frustration. “He’s a problem that’s not going away anytime soon.”

“Yeah, and I’m making him my problem. No way is he going to fuck with you, and that means I don’t want you worrying about this shit.” Rhys sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.

“He’s our problem and where are you going?”

He stood but then put a knee on the bed to bend over and press a quick kiss to my lips. “Gotta train, Tinker Bell. Up to you if want to hang around. Would shower with you but we both know where that’ll lead so better I don’t.”

A flutter of nerves flickered to life in my belly as he strode into his bathroom and shut the door. It bothered me he didn’t want to talk about Fairchild when we talked about other stuff that was just as important and personal.

And suddenly, it bothered me that instead of talking about Fairchild and the fight, he’d used sex to release his frustration. Okay, the sex obviously didn’t bother me, but … well, now I felt like I’d just been dismissed.

The sudden wall he’d put up between us was confusing.

Ugh. Was it even a wall?

Was I overthinking this?

The shower turned on, and as I sat on Rhys’s bed, waiting to use his shower after him, I did what I always did and spent way too much time in my own head.

Twenty

Rhys

Life was strange. One aspect of it could be going great while other parts gave you hell. For the first time in years, I felt happy. It was weird. She made me truly happy in a way I didn’t know how to deal with; I’d never been like this with a woman. I went about my day like a giddy goof, smiling continuously, my insides flipping and twitching with anticipation of seeing her again. Once I had my hands on her, it was bliss. Pure, freaking bliss.

Parker was fun. She made me laugh. And she made me horny as hell. I’d turned into a horny-ass poet. Dean was amused at my “transformation.”

I took his ribbings with good humor—as I said, I was too happy to care.

And then there was the rest of my life. I had a plan. I’d stick to the plan. But I wasn’t exactly what you’d call happy with it. It was too close to the past.

Every time I stepped into the ring to spar, I was hit with a bold elation, a sense of utter rightness and confidence. And, at the same time, I’d feel vaguely sick. The scent of sweat and blood and the rank stench of boxing boots brought it all back. I’d instantly remember Jake’s expression, the blankness in his eyes, the fucking shock of it all.

I’d had broken ribs, broken nose, busted-up knuckles, and had two concussions. Pain is life. The true horror of death was the sheer nothingness of it. Nothing was bringing Jake back. He was gone.

It was a refrain as I jumped rope, going faster and faster.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

“Double time, Morgan!” Jimmy’s growl snapped me back into the moment. His craggy face twisted into a glare. “You’re not here to daydream.”

“I’ll do that on my own time, boss,” I replied with a smile. I’d trained with Jimmy since going pro. When I’d asked him about doing a charity match, the old man had gotten a tear in his eye. Apparently, he’d been waiting years for me to come back.

Guilt was a bitch.

“If you’re going to dream,” he said, “then dream about moving that fat, lazy arse of yours. Jaysus, did you not keep in shape at all?”

Jimmy was a funny fucking guy.

“Apparently not, boss.”

Not to his standards, anyway. I’d thought I’d been in pretty good shape. Nothing like getting back to the sport to remind a man how badly he’d deluded himself.

“If you can smile like that,” Jimmy said, “then you can sing the song while you’re at it.”

Horror lit through me. Oh fuck.

“Come on, Jimmy,” I pleaded. Yes, pleaded. “Have a heart.”

His beady black eyes gleamed under the gray hedges of his brows. “Sing. It.”

Fuck.

With a sigh, I started. “‘I am the very model of a modern major general, I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral...’”

The sadistic bastard waved his hands around like a damn conductor as I skipped rope and sang the Major General’s song from The Pirates of Penzance.

Sweat poured down my spine and my legs felt like noodles. But my chest was clear, my blood pumped strong, and my voice stayed loud. “‘I’m very well acquainted too, with matters mathematical, I understand equations both the simple and quadratical…’”

I actually had no idea how to do equations that were quadratical. Maybe I did in high school. Parker would know.

God, Parker. If she saw me now, she’d laugh and laugh. Her pretty face would light up with glee. Those pink lips would curl into a smile.

God, those lips. They had, in fact, been wrapped around my cock the other day. She had this technique, a little quick flicker of her tongue along the tip when she drew back on my cock that was mind-blowing. I’d almost proclaimed my undying devotion when she’d done that.

Thoughts of Parker sucking me off pulled me through the song and the warm-up. But Jimmy, evil man that he was, knew perfectly well my mind had been elsewhere.

“You’ve lost your focus,” he grumped later when he was taping up my hands. I could do it myself, but he insisted on getting it just right. “It won’t serve you well in the ring.”

I stared down at my hands. They were softer now, not as battered. “I know. I can’t …” I shrugged, not wanting to admit it but trusting Jimmy enough to know that I had to. “I’m trying. But it’s difficult.”

He paused and peered at me. Small as a gnome and just as bent, Jimmy had always made me think he was part magic. Every guy he trained seemed to be that much better than the others. I was damn lucky to have him on my side.

“Your heart’s not into it.”

“Not like it was. I lost something when Jake …” I trailed off with a shake of my head.

Jimmy finished taping up my hands. “Saw the light die in your eyes that night too. Knew it was it for you.” He sat back on his heels and rubbed the salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin. “Look, lad, what you’re doing is a good thing. And if it gets you out from under the bank and that billionaire arsehole, then even better.”

I knew all this. I’d told Jimmy this. Strangely, it still felt good to hear. I nodded and flexed my hands, testing the tape. There was something comforting about being taped up, good and familiar.

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