Chapter 28
Kas
If I was childish, unsure of myself, and hated beautiful, funny women, I would’ve thought kissing Mari was a mistake. I’m not any of those things, which is why kissing her was the surest I’ve ever been making a decision since stepping foot in Vegas.
She tasted like sweetened liquor from the drink she barely touched all night, and she didn’t get the chance to remove her lip gloss before I so kindly did it for her.
Devon peers down over my lying form after managing to drop me like a sack of fucking potatoes. “You seem out of focus.”
“Do I?”
He throws a hand toward me and helps me up. “I just kicked your ass. I’m good at fighting, but not that good.” He follows my gaze to the front entrance of the gym. “Stop worrying about Bill and Dash, they’re severely hungover. Not that that’s anything new to Dash when he goes on vacation.”
Dash and Bill are no-shows, even Davina’s running late after her late night of gambling.
“Dash isn’t on vacation, he’s meant to be working.” I stalk to the side of the ring and finish the rest of my energy drink, stealing a glance out of the glass gym doors again for one person in particular. “I’m not worried about him. He’s a pain to train with when he’s hungover.”
Devon gives me an unbelieving look.
I don’t think I want to tell him about how Mari refusing to block Isaac is giving me a tension headache. The thought of her in general is driving me mad.
I immediately folded after being nose-to-nose with her for a few seconds and kissed her like it was my final day on Earth. I feel like one of those cartoon characters with their heart pounding out of their chest, tongue lolling out of their mouth, and arms hanging loosely at their sides as they dreamily stumble after their love interest. My stomach is constantly folding in on itself trying to search for crumbs of Mari on any given day and even now, the satiation is temporary.
No more will I be satisfied with turning off the AC in my hotel room just so I can hear her snores or grasping for the slightest glance at her shadow through the crack of her door.
It’s lustful desperation in its finest form, and it’s fucking embarrassing.
“Your thousand-yard stare is kind of freaking me out. Let’s take five before you start tweaking,” Devon says.
I huff out a breath and settle on the floor of the ring to stretch out my limbs, running my tongue over my lips for the thousandth time this morning.
Devon clicks his tongue. “So, last night ... what do you think about that phone call from Mari’s ex?”
“What about it?”
There’s a simmering heat in my veins, one that reaches my cheeks and has my knuckles itching.
“You looked really pissed off for someone so opposed to having her temporarily move in with us.”
“I just can’t stand her ex. I’m also not opposed to her moving in, I’ve already asked.”
“Ask again.” Devon takes his towel from the side of the ring and presses it against his skin. “Violet is really worried about her. She says that Mari is trying to convince herself and everyone else that her ex isn’t an emotionally abusive ass. She can’t even shower at her place anymore.”
“What?” I snap.
I should have gone up to the apartment when I picked her up. The way Isaac was watching us over the balcony had me wishing I could shoot lasers out of my eyes. There’s no way her interaction with Isaac before we left was just a joke.
“Yeah, she could probably breathe around him and he’d still have an issue.”
I’ve seen this with some of the men my mom dated. They’d belittle and criticize her for some non-issue, and she would adapt to the toxicity because the fleeting moments of calm would seem like a big enough win to stay.
John was the worst.
Mom and I lived at his fancy penthouse for six months. It was a dream compared to the mold-ridden bedrooms and mice-infested kitchens we were used to. I think it was a bigger dream for my mom because in her eyes, she’d met someone that would provide her son with a good home.
The longer we stayed, the more violent he became. There was some berating here and there, then he started grabbing my mom’s arms a little too tight, and next it was her throat. I was only twelve, but I was big for my age and strong enough to leave a grown man’s face unrecognizable.
I was too young to face any substantial punishment for beating up John, and after that, Mom worked as much as she could so I could attend kickboxing classes.
Devon clearing his throat draws me out of the memory. “You gonna tell me what was up with that argument you guys were having at the bar?” he asks, opening up an energy drink for himself and scanning the label of my new sponsor on the front.
“It wasn’t an argument, just some disagreement about the social media stuff.”
The reminder of last night triggers a foreign giddiness in the pit of my stomach.
Devon glances down with a chuckle. “Don’t lie to me. You don’t give a fuck about social media, there’s no way you would’ve started an argument about it.”
Curse Devon for knowing me like the back of his hand. He watches me attempt to distract myself by standing and neatening up the badly wound jump rope next to us.
“Don’t be shy, spill,” Devon urges. He leans against the roped barrier of the ring and crosses his leg at the ankles.
“Pushy,” I mutter, kicking the ropes he leans on and throwing him off balance. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Vi.”
He laughs and rebalances himself. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I’m almost one hundred percent sure that Violet knows because she was less than obvious in her silent communication with Mari on our way back from the club.
With a sigh, I lie down in the middle of the ring with my arms above my head to stretch my spine. “I got Mari a reading device for her birthday.”
“Reading device, yep, heard about that.”
“She bought this book, right?”
Devon nods rhythmically as if trying to get me to explain faster. “Right, sure.”
“But the book was a romance, and you’d never guess the title of it.” Devon shakes his head, unable to make a guess. “ Claimed by the Rugged Fighter ,” I answer for him.
Devon presses his fist against his mouth and rocks onto his heels. “Dude.” His voice is laden with disbelief.
“I know.”
Devon paces along the ring’s edge with his hand placed thoughtfully beneath his chin. “How did you find out what she was reading?”
“When she buys the book, I get the receipts.”
He stops pacing and looks me up and down. “ Claimed by the Rugged Fighter ... rugged fighter ,” he says, gesturing toward me. “Do you think she bought it because of you?”
“That’s what I asked at the club because she was avoiding me.”
“And?”
“She said no and walked off. What do you think I should do?” I ask.
Devon continues pacing, too busy in thought to notice my white lie. I don’t want him to make things awkward for Mari, especially if he decides to spill this information to Violet and she doesn’t already know.
He taps his finger against his chin. “I think that you should stay out of it. Mari’s nice and hounding her about something she chooses to read isn’t going to help. Delete your card from the device and just tell her you won’t bring it up again.”
I nod my head, trying to hide an impressed smile. Devon’s unsteady, eager eyes betray him; I know that he’s itching to ask more. He’s loyal to Violet. I bet he’s trying to make sure I don’t hurt Mari’s feelings on his girlfriend’s behalf.
“Sure, man,” I say.
After a year of living in my mom’s apartment after her passing, I went no-contact with everyone aside from a few wellness checks from the cops and Devon. He encouraged me to buy the house with him when I started to leave the apartment. I know it was his way of keeping a subtle eye on me. Designing and rebuilding parts of it kept my mind and hands busy when all I wanted was to curl up and shrivel away. When someone like Devon knows all of your vulnerabilities, it’s very easy to keep them close to your heart and value their advice.
Unfortunately, in this very specific case, I will be ignoring Devon’s advice.
Devon disappears into the changing rooms to get ready for his day out with Violet while I do quick sprinting intervals on the running machine. After twenty minutes, he emerges just as Mari and Violet step into the gym. He rushes to his girlfriend, pulling her close for a good morning embrace.
I prepare myself for disappointment, anticipating Mari’s avoidance. My eyes find hers, and I do a double take when she starts toward me. She walks with confidence, long legs crossing in front of the other in the tennis skirt I remember her wearing back when we were training at home.
She stops in front of me with a smile, and I clear my throat at her unwavering eye contact.
“Cze??,” she says.
What the actual fuck?
“Cze???” I reply.
Has she forgotten about last night? Even worse, does she not care? I know Mari, and after the kiss, I’m surprised she’s even spoken to me.
She gives me a sickeningly sweet grin. “Let’s get some footage, shall we?”
I nod and look to Devon, only to find him and Violet pretending they’re not trying to overhear.
“Have a nice day, guys,” I say with unnecessary loudness.
They nod overenthusiastically and edge toward the front entrance of the gym. “You too!” they shout simultaneously, leaving to go to some Supercar tourist attraction.
I look at Mari and she swiftly diverts her gaze. Ah, there’s the avoidance.
“I’m over the book stuff, by the way,” Mari says, pulling out her newly fixed camera from its case. Direct and honest. No sign of embarrassment, nothing to indicate that she wants more. “Let’s just brush it under the carpet, alright? Keep it professional.”
She smiles demurely and I don’t return it with anything more than a frown.
“Fine,” I respond bluntly. Keep it professional? I think we’re way past professional. “Did you like the book?”
Mari looks at me with wide eyes and her mouth slightly open. She masks her surprise by setting her shoulders back and jerking her chin in satisfaction. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t read it.”
My face rages with heat as she walks away to the training dummy in the corner of the gym.
“What do you mean, you didn’t read it ?” I ask furiously, jogging after her. “You’re lying.” She shakes her head. “Seriously? You didn’t read it?”
Mari buries her bottom lip between her upper teeth and looks through her camera. “I only managed around ten pages, I don’t really enjoy those type of books.” She wipes her lens with a small cloth and raises the camera back to her eye. “I bought it because I was curious.” I stare at her with my mouth agape and she peers over her camera with a humored gaze. “Freya likes that type of stuff, though. You should recommend it to her if you liked it.”
A choked noise sounds from me, and now I feel like Mari probably did in the club—embarrassed.
My face remains hot, and Mari looks at me again with a small upward tilt of her lips.
“At least I didn’t freak out over a kiss,” I say defensively.
Mari grips her camera tight enough to risk it breaking again.
Is it toxic of me to want her stressing out about the kiss? Probably. No reaction from her feels a million times worse than a negative one, especially now I know she hasn’t read the damn book.
“I didn’t freak—whatever. Friends?”
Mari holds out her hand. I glance at it, but I don’t take it. Friends? We’re not platonic, and we’re not romantic either. Whatever it is, it’s worse. It makes me want to hold my brain and cock in either hand and scream at them to work together.
“Okay, be a brat. I’m going to make use of my camera and record some solo training after because Dash and Bill aren’t here,” she says.
Her mouth moves so fervently, it makes her lips hypnotic to look at; no wonder her kiss had me genuinely entranced.
I play up for her camera and annihilate the training dummy. Each punch triggers thoughts to run through my mind. I need to ask Mari about moving in with Devon and me. Not being able to shower at her home because she’s afraid of Isaac getting mad is unacceptable. If I was back home, I’d be moving her out as soon as she uttered the word “yes.” Even then, I think I’d do it regardless and kick Isaac in the chest in the process.
I conclude my thirty minutes of independent training with the same violent kick I’d like to enact on her ex.
“Brat,” Mari says again, still convinced my anger is about the book and “friends” suggestion.
With a huff, I turn to her. “Mari, I think you should move in—”
“Fucking hell. Who put a dime in Kas?” Bill shouts.
Mari’s eyes flare and her body slumps in relief at Bill’s interruption. He walks into the gym with Davina and a rough-looking Dash who is sucking in oxygen like he’s taking his final breaths.
“I don’t want to move in with you. Especially not now,” she whispers, her eyes flicking to my lips.
Does that mean she was considering the move before last night? I follow her with my eyes as she circles me to meet with Davina.
I think I’ve fucked up.
“Guys, I woke up with a mild case of amnesia,” Dash says, nudging the sunglasses from the bridge of his nose to the top of his head, revealing bloodshot eyes.
“You were rolling in the elevator.” Mari rocks her jaw, imitating the state he was in last night.
“Don’t do drugs, kids,” Dash mumbles and leans down to take a sip of water from the fountain near the entrance.
He freezes, covers his mouth with his fist, and then hightails it to the bathroom.
Davina sighs. “If he throws up in the ring again, I’m resigning.”
Fuck Dash’s mild case of amnesia; fuck everything right now. I’ve just destroyed any chance I had at convincing Mari to move in with me, and the worst part about it is that I completely understand why.
What’s worse? Living with an ex or living with a man where the lines between platonic and intimate are more than blurred—they’re completely nonexistent?