26. Chapter 23
Chance
“ S o, you’re telling me that you’re now part-owner of one of, if not the most, influential MMA gyms currently standing in the world?” my brother asked.
“Yeah, man.”
And I drained nearly everything from that handy little secret bank account.
I yawned, stepping off the curb to cross the road into the driveway of the gym.
It had been over a week since I’d thrown Jayden out of Knock’s, and he was yet to test my threat.
JJ had done some sleuthing and found out when Rat was planning to come and get his things.
So when he’d come to collect his gear a few days later, I’d made sure I was conveniently sorting through paperwork and study tape at the time.
The coward hadn’t even looked in her direction.
Good .
“I’m assuming the owner came around to you and your charm then?”
I sighed.
It had also been just over a week since Mari and I had slept together. A week of her avoiding me—
Okay, maybe we are avoiding each other.
Switching and swerving in every over-the-top fucking way. A week of awkwardness and tension that had been all too graciously pointed out by JJ in quiet moments. A week of my subconscious putting on a goddamn show about her almost every night.
“You could say that,” I replied.
Every night was like a new memory surfacing from that drunken night we’d shared.
I pressed my lips into the slope where her neck met her shoulder, lightly running my tongue over the taste of her skin. A moan slipped from her, a fucking delightful sound.
Every muscle in my body was rigid with anticipation, but I’d never felt more relaxed.
My fingers skimmed the red thong, a patch of moisture visible right above where I knew her tender slickness was waiting for me.
Pain flickered in the back of my jaw under my teeth, desire for the woman below me bursting to the point of agony.
I relished in it, in her. Using my teeth to sooth that ache, I bit down on her thong and dragged it lower, lower, lower.
Hard to the point of self-combustion, I decided I would happily die in this moment.
The taste of her—her own personal flavour of salty peaches—was blinding.
One lick of her, one flick of my tongue on her soft, wet clit, and I knew I would never taste anything better than this.
The vibration of her moans rattled through my tongue as I swirled and curled it around her tight, dripping hole.
Her lips parted in a pant as she lowered herself down onto my cock. I gritted my teeth. So fucking tight. So fucking wet. So fucking perfect. Her small hands splayed on my chest as she levered up and down.
“You look so fucking good riding me, dripping all over me,” I groaned. “Fuck, Sunny, you’re soaked.”
“Y-you … fuck.” She gushed all over me, picking up her pace. The breath whooshed out of me in a frantic pant. Her pussy … fuck, she felt like home . This was light. This was warmth. This was fucking life in its most extraordinary form.
I was drowning in her. Constantly. She was everywhere.
Fucking inconvenient.
How was I meant to think about anything, anything at all, when I had memories as good as that rattling around in my brain?
“She still giving you a hard time, bro?” Dylan asked, the phone connection going fuzzy for a second.
“Nah, she’s fine. Just got some things to think over in the next few days, and my brother decides to call me at half-past four in the morning when I’m on my way to work,” I grumble.
Between working, training, and waking up multiple times from dreams of a certain curly-haired brunette, I felt like my fucking wheels were falling off.
“Your classes start at the asscrack of dawn. I figured you wouldn’t be a cranky bastard,” he replied with a laugh. “What’s on your mind?”
“Baltis gave me an offer.”
There was silence for a moment.
“And?”
“It’s everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of. Main event fight. Title shot. Home arena.”
“Holy shit, Chance. That’s amazing! Congrats, brother!”
I sighed, the weight of the offer feeling like boulders hovering above me. With spikes. Dripping in acid.
“It’s pretty unbelievable,” I grumbled, pulling my keys out of my pocket to unlock the gym’s doors.
“You don’t sound stoked.”
“I’m wrapped about it, man. I’m over the fucking moon that I’m being given the opportunity to fight for the championship title, particularly in my home arena.” I let out another loose breath. “But it’s in my home arena, Dylan … and I—”
“Don’t have the bandwidth to plan for running into the past?” he interrupted, seeing where I was going before I’d even gotten there.
“… no. No, I don’t. I left that shit there for a reason, Dyl. Because it was fucking shit . No one, me or others, needs to visit that steaming pile of it,” I admitted quietly.
Shame burned like a thousand candles had just been lit inside of me.
I didn’t want people to know what had happened back in Darlington Harbour—why I’d been so quick to jump into a new life.
I’m sure the press and the public had questions; I was Chance fucking Riordan.
People were bound to have questions as to why voted ‘Mr Violence’ of this year had up and left his home city in a matter of hours.
“Don’t you think that’s up to them to decide?” he asked softly.
There was a silent, underlying question in it; are you ever going to tell me what the hell went down in Darlington Harbour?
“Not when it comes to this,” I replied, shutting down the hidden question.
“You can’t give everything up on a ‘ what if ’, Chance. You’re way too talented and have worked way too fucking hard to let whatever this is stop you.” Agitation flowed through the phone, and I could practically see the scowl on his face.
Dylan was the oldest of us three and lived up to the fierce protective nature that older siblings usually had. He had taught me to fight when he left for high school, so I could take care of Milah. He’d been there, at my back, through every up and down I’d had growing up.
I knew it would be killing him to not be able to know, not be able to help me now. But I was a man now—it was my problem. There was no reason to force anyone else down into the trenches with me. Not when I’d just started to get a foothold out of them.
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “I’m about to walk into the gym, Dyl. I gotta run.”
“Chance—”
“I love you, mate,” I said, ending the call the same way I always did.
“I love you too, Chance.”
I rolled my shoulders out, fighting the inevitable tremor that came from hearing those words.