Chapter 2
Keaton
Twelve Years Later – Present Day
“Last call,” I shouted, starting my closing routine.
It was pushing two in the morning. The crowd had thinned, but a few stragglers were waiting until the very last minute to leave.
The Golden Tavern wasn’t a dive, but it wasn’t trying to be trendy either.
It was a simple place where people came for drinks after work or to listen to live music on the weekends.
We offered a solid selection of local craft beers, rotating them every few weeks, along with a few signature drinks the happy-hour crowd liked.
I started working there as soon as I turned twenty-one, since the tips were a lot better than what I’d made delivering pizzas at my former job.
As people closed out their tabs, Douglas watched me from the far end of the bar, his elbow propped on the counter.
He’d started coming in about three weeks ago.
The first couple of times, he’d been with coworkers, then he showed up alone.
We chatted for a bit, and though he hadn’t said anything, it hadn’t been hard to figure out he was into guys.
Last week, he asked me to hang out after my shift. We went to the 24-hour diner down the street and ended the night at his place. He was cool to talk to and definitely cute, with light brown hair, a trimmed goatee, and an average build, like he cared about his appearance but didn’t live at the gym.
I liked that.
While Titan Elite was the place I felt most at home, I didn’t treat the gym as my personal dating pool.
I’d gone for the jock before, and it hadn’t worked out well for me.
When I tried again, that one ended too, although not as dramatically.
Now, I stayed away from the guys whose lives revolved around the gym.
Douglas worked a desk job and spent his weekends relaxing at home. He seemed like as good an option as any, at least until it came to sex. It hadn’t been awkward or terrible; it just hadn’t been anything to get excited about.
I wiped down the bar top in front of him. “You heading out?”
He finished the final sip of his beer and set the glass down. “In a minute.”
I worked my way down the counter, collecting empty glasses. When I came back, he was still watching me.
“So,” he started. It may not have been awkward before, but I could feel the shift before he finished speaking. “You got plans after this?”
“Going home so I can get some sleep before training tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “You’re always at the gym.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Sort of a requirement if I want to be a professional fighter.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Maybe we could hang out for a bit before you go home.”
I picked up my towel again, buying myself a second to think. I didn’t want to lead him on or be that guy who kept someone around just because it was convenient. I also didn’t want to be a dick.
“Douglas, you’re great ...”
“But?” he prompted, his shoulders dropping.
“But I don’t think this is going anywhere.”
“Any particular reason why?”
“I don’t want to waste your time,” I explained, keeping my focus on him. “You deserve someone who’s actually looking for a relationship.”
“And you’re not?”
“No. A simple, no-strings-attached good time is more my speed.”
I wasn’t completely opposed to a relationship, but I wasn’t actively seeking one. For now, I was happy with the occasional hookup.
He took me in for a second, then offered a small, resigned smile. “At least you’re honest. Can’t fault you for that.”
“Thanks.” Saying that one word felt stupid, but what else could I say?
He slid a few bills across the bar. “For what it’s worth, I had fun with you.”
“Me too.”
Just not enough to keep things going beyond one night.
He stood and rested his hands on the back of the barstool. “If you ever decide you want something different …”
“You shouldn’t wait for something that likely won’t happen.”
He let out a breath. “Take care of yourself, Keaton.”
“You too.”
Turning someone down always sucked. It would have been nice to have someone familiar around to call when I needed a little release. But for as cute as Douglas had been, and how easy it would’ve been to keep sleeping with him, I couldn’t fake enthusiasm when the sex was just mediocre.
Once the last couple of customers left, I locked the front door, counted the register, turned off the lights behind the bar, and finished closing up.
Outside, the summer night air was warm, and I drove home with the windows cracked.
The house where I rented a room sat in an older neighborhood about fifteen minutes from the gym. Devon, the owner of Titan Elite, rented it out to fighters on the regional MMA circuit, and I shared it with three other guys.
I parked in my usual spot in front of the house and walked inside.
After dropping my stuff off in my room, I went to the kitchen for a quick snack, only to find it looked like a tornado had blown through.
Protein powder dusted the counter like snow, a stack of dirty plates sat in the sink, and someone had left a pan soaking with what appeared to be the remnants of scrambled eggs at the bottom.
I put away the clean dishes and reloaded the dishwasher. Mostly so I’d have something clean to use for breakfast in a few hours. After cleaning up, I ate a protein bar, took a shower, and went to my room.
There was an additional bedroom on the other side of my bathroom that currently sat empty.
Several roommates had come and gone in the two years I’d lived here, so it was only a matter of time before Devon would fill it again.
I just hoped whoever moved in wasn’t a slob like two of my other roommates.
Sleep had come quickly, and it felt as though the morning came even sooner when my alarm went off at nine-thirty.
I rolled onto my back, stared at the ceiling for a second, and gave myself a silent pep talk to start the day.
Working late meant I didn’t hit the gym at dawn like some of the other guys, but mid-morning still felt too early for me.
Climbing out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom to get ready for the day, then threw on an athletic shirt, grappling spats, and shorts.
When I got to the kitchen, I stopped in the doorway.
Somehow, it looked worse than I’d found it the night before.
One of my roommates had tried to wipe the counter, turning the protein powder into a paste, and the trash can was overflowing.
I dealt with it, clearing space on the counter and taking out the trash before downing a protein shake and two hard-boiled eggs before heading to the gym.
Fifteen minutes later, Titan Elite came into view, the familiar sign stretching across the warehouse-style building. I parked, stepped out of my car, and strolled inside. The gym smelled of rubber mats and sweat. Some people wouldn’t find that appealing, but I did.
“Morning, Keaton,” Hailey greeted from behind the front desk.
“Morning.” I adjusted the strap on my gym bag. I headed toward the locker room, threw my stuff into my usual locker, and stepped onto the floor where two of my roommates, Enzo and Derek, were already sparring in the ring.
Most mornings, I began with some sort of cardio, whether it was running, rowing, shadow boxing, or whatever my coaches suggested.
Today was treadmill day, which was my least favorite part of my routine, but it was a great way to get my body ready for everything else.
I climbed onto the machine and did a quick warm-up before increasing the incline and speed.
Ten minutes in, sweat began sliding down my back. I’d seen plenty of guys lose a fight because they lacked stamina, and their opponents just had to wait for them to gas out. I refused to let that happen, so I pushed the button and increased my speed.
When I stepped off thirty minutes later, another roommate, Mason, came over to chat.
“Did you see Carson’s conditioning plan this week? Someone must’ve pissed him off, because I’m pretty sure he’s trying to kill us.”
I snorted. “My money’s on you for that one.”
He stepped back in mock surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m a joy to be around.”
“You can pull that shit on other people, but I know the truth, since I’m almost a hundred percent sure that was your protein powder I had to clean up this morning.”
We moved toward the mats, joking back and forth as we prepared for a Muay Thai session. I was stretching as we waited for the rest of the class to join us when I noticed Devon showing someone around.
As they got closer, my eyes widened, and I inhaled sharply.
Mason lifted a brow. “Everything good, man?”
“Yeah. Just a muscle cramp,” I lied.
My gaze locked on the guy with stormy hazel eyes and brown hair buzzed on the sides, a tad longer on top.
My stomach dropped as memories I’d tried to suppress came rushing back to the surface.
I’d spent countless days sprawled across his bed with a game controller in my hands, nights climbing through his window when things got bad at my house, and quiet talks in the dark about stuff I never told anyone else.
Then one night it had all ended.
Four years ago, he’d made sure I never wanted to see him again.