Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Ihaven’t seen Zia since the night he stayed over. He snuck out in the morning without even saying goodbye. It wasn’t exactly a subtle message, so even I understood it. He told me time and time again that this is nothing more than sex, but my heart still aches.
I should be focusing on my upcoming matches and reaching the top, but he’s all I can think about. Is he okay? Is he stressed? Is he eating? I want to reach out and ask him, but he would probably ignore me, or I might even make it worse.
Four days later, I’ve had enough.
I’ve gone from concerned to annoyed, pissed, then downright furious.
He can’t do this to me. He can’t come into my world, make me care, and disappear.
It’s too fucking cruel. Zia will say it’s just sex, and that’s fine, but he can’t dictate how I feel.
He can’t just walk away when he starts to feel too much or get attached.
He can’t pick me up and put me down like a toy when it’s convenient.
I know I’m probably breaching the distance he wants, but I don’t care. I ask around, hoping someone knows where he is. It’s only after I’ve exhausted all my options that I ask Mr. Landry, who, after mocking me, gives me Zia’s address. I know I’ve officially reached stalker level, but I don’t care.
As soon as I read the text, I’m out the door and on my bike, ignoring my father’s and Charlie’s shouts since we are training late—or supposed to be.
I need to see him.
I need to know he’s okay.
It’s a quick drive through the city at this hour, and when I pull up outside of the gate with security on a private street, I almost back down. Does he live in this massive mansion, or is this his family’s house? I don’t know, but it’s intimidating as hell.
I knew he was rich, but seeing it is another thing.
Pulling my helmet off, I rest it on my tank and pull out my phone.
He doesn’t answer the first few times, but I don’t give up, ignoring the suspicious looks I’m getting from security. When it finally connects, I don’t let Zia speak.
“I’m outside. Come down or I’m coming in.” I hang up so he knows I’m serious. He’s turned up at my house, and now it’s my turn.
I’ll chase him across this entire fucking city if I need to.
I wait, and five minutes later, the front door opens, the staff snapping to attention, but he ignores them as he steps out onto the covered porch, wearing loose silk pants, a white shirt, and boots.
He looks around hesitantly, as if he’s unsure if I’m actually here, until his eyes meet mine and widen.
I wait, and he walks down the driveway, through the stone archway leading to the house, then stops before me. “Nikko, what are you doing? How did you know I was at my father’s?” he snaps.
“I have connections too, baby,” I reply. “I needed to see you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, his chin tilted up defiantly. His face is bare, his hair natural and swept back.
He’s so fucking beautiful, it hurts. I drink in the sight of him as if I’ve been starved.
“So what’s with the silence?” I ask as I continue to stare. His eyes narrow, and I wait.
“We’re fuck buddies, Nikko, so don’t overstep.” He goes to turn away, but I grab his arm. There’s a click, and I glance up to see his security aiming guns at me. I don’t let go.
“You got scared and ran. Admit it.”
His security steps forward, and he holds up his hand. “Go back inside. I’m fine.” Zia meets my gaze. “I don’t get scared. I’ve been busy and don’t owe you an explanation. Go home, Nikko.”
“No,” I snap. “You look tired. Have you been sleeping? Eating?”
“It’s no concern—”
“I can worry as a fuck buddy, Zia, especially when you look like shit.” He flinches, and I lean back. “You’re stressed.”
He purses his lips and says nothing.
“Okay, get on.”
“What?” he stutters.
“I said get on. We’re going to destress you—as purely fuck buddies, of course. I wouldn’t want to overstep,” I tease.
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t move, and I run my gaze down his body. It’s chilly tonight, and he isn’t wearing much.
He has no jacket, so I shrug out of mine and hand it over. “Put it on and get on the bike.”
He reluctantly puts it on, and I lift my helmet and swing off my bike, then I carefully put it on him. I make sure he’s okay before shutting the visor.
“What about you?” he mumbles.
“As long as you’re safe . . .” I shrug as I climb back on and pat the seat behind me. “Get on, baby.”
He doesn’t hesitate this time, getting on behind me, but I don’t feel him, and when I glance back, he’s perched away, his hands anchored on the sides of the bike. Rolling my eyes, I reach back, grab his hands, and position them around my waist.
“Hold on tight. I’m going fast,” I warn.
He swears under his breath and wraps his arms tightly around me, as if he wants to do anything but touch me.
I rev the engine and accelerate, and he slams into me. His arms wrap tighter around me, making me grin as I shoot off into the city. He needs to get away and forget for a while. I can do that. He might push me away, but I can give him what he needs—silent freedom from the people sucking him dry.
His hold increases, and I feel the side of the helmet press against my back as he moves so there’s no space between us. My heart races from his nearness, though I won’t tell him that. I feel his heart pounding, even through the layers between us, but again, I remain silent.
I don’t have a direction in mind, but I choose roads I know will be nearly empty, and I drive as fast as I dare before we head out of Pine Valley on deserted streets that allow me to go as fast as possible. We even out on a straight stretch, and I feel him let go.
When I glance back, his eyes are closed and his arms are stretched out on either side of him. Something in him seems to relax, and my own muscles loosen as he gives in to the freedom I find on my bike.
Turning forward, I see a bend ahead, so I tap his thigh, and he wraps his arms around me again, holding me tight as I take the corner.
We weave through the countryside before I slow and pull over on a turnout.
It’s surrounded by trees and a railing. I turn my bike off and dismount.
He lingers, and I take the helmet off for him, allowing myself a moment of weakness as I brush his hair from his face before stepping away.
“Come on.” I shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t reach for him as I climb over the guardrail. He follows a moment later, and I sit at the top of the grassy hill. There’s a gap between the trees that displays Pine Valley below, and when I glance at Zia, he’s standing at my side, frowning.
“What?” he asks.
“Sit.” I tug him down, and he sighs but sits next to me and stretches his legs out, matching my pose as he leans back on his arms. He’s so close, I could touch him, but I don’t. I don’t think he’d accept it right now, and I don’t want him to reject me.
I remain silent, and he eventually relaxes.
“You’re right. I was pulling away. I’m sorry.
” He glances at me then back to the city, but my gaze doesn't leave him as he speaks. “There’s been so much shit at work, and Faiz—” He shakes his head.
“He hurt me a lot, Nikko. He fucked me up inside, and I’m not ready to be hurt again.
” He looks at me, a worried expression etched on his face.
“You’re sweet, Nikko, kind and good. You’re everything I’m not.
Don’t you see that it will never work between us? It can’t.”
“Who says so? We won’t ever know if we don’t try.” I shrug.
He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze scanning my face like he’s memorizing it before delivering a blow. “I can’t love you, Nikko. I can’t love anyone again, not like I loved him. I just can’t.”
If he thinks that will scare me off, then he doesn’t know me very well. “That’s fine. I’m not asking you to love me.” I grin as I cover his hand with mine, not giving him a chance to pull away as I stare at the view.
“I’m using you for sex, Nikko,” he snaps, but if he thinks that will hurt me, then he’s dumb. I look at him, arching an eyebrow.
“Then use me.”
“What?” he blurts.
I kiss him softly. “I said use me. I’ll let you.” I turn back to the view. He’s quiet, but Zia doesn’t move away or say anything else, so I smile and relax.
“You’ll regret saying that one day, regret meeting me. Everyone does,” he says.
“Guess we’ll see,” I reply, dismissing his words.
I will never regret meeting Zia, not for one moment, no matter how this ends.
Before him, all I had was boxing. Sure, I had a dream, a house, and a family, but nothing else.
There was no excitement, no one to look forward to seeing, and no reason to dress nicely or pick up my phone.
He brought confidence, excitement, and lust into my world. Zia gave my life meaning.
“It’s a beautiful view,” he murmurs softly, like a peace offering.
“It is,” I reply, but I mean him, not Pine Valley.
I see his lips twist into a smile as he looks at me. “You are a stubborn, stubborn man, Nikko.”
“Back at you, Zia,” I murmur.
He shakes his head and leans into me, resting his forehead against mine. “I can’t get rid of you, can I?”
“No, but I’m glad you’re finally realizing that, baby,” I answer as I cup his face, close my eyes, and press my lips to his.
I expect him to move away, but he melts and kisses me back. It lasts for a while before we both pull away. Neither of us says anything as he rests his head on my shoulder.
We sit together, soaking in the night.
I hope I can give him peace like he gives me excitement.