Brantley wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she tensed. “You know, I’ve been wanting to apologize for the way we ended things.”
“You mean, you with your penis inside Lucy?” She moved away. That was exactly how they’d ended things. An image that had taken her a long time to erase from her mind. Her heart still held a grudge.
“Come on, Parker, you can’t still be mad about that. That thing with Lucy ended a while ago. I realize I made a mistake.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, graying perfectly at the sides as though he’d placed the streaks there on purpose.
Their only mistake was being together in the first place. After experiencing what she had with Tyson, the feelings of wanting to know someone inside and out, the emptiness now that they were apart, how much she missed seeing him every day . . . she could never claim that what she’d had with Brantley had ever come close.
“Give me another chance?” He touched her shoulder and she brushed his hand away.
“No, and Brantley—if you touch me again, I’ll show you just how much I learned for this role.” Walking away, she hurried outside, desperate to get away from him.
Outside, she released a deep breath, but immediately the suffocating heartache deep in her chest returned. She could run away from Brantley, she could leave Vegas, but it didn’t matter. There would be no escaping the pain of loving Tyson Reed.
* * *
“Let’s check your weight,” Walker said, tossing him a towel as Tyson slowed the treadmill.
His recent lack of focus on his own training had resulted in weight sneaking on, which he now had eight hours before the fight weigh-ins to lose. As of that morning he had fifteen pounds that he needed to cut.
Stepping on the scale, he felt like punching it. “One fucking pound?” Three hours of cardio and one pound to show for it?
“Fourteen pounds is nothing. Last month, Dylan cut twenty-three, remember?”
He remembered the young fighter getting sick and passing out from dehydration, that’s what he remembered. Not something he wanted to go through that day.
“Let’s get the suit.”
Damn it! In twelve years competing, he’d had to rely on the rubber sweat suit to cut weight only twice. He hated that thing. Dehydrating his body made him feel sluggish and tired, and then the rebuild back up after the weigh-ins also took a toll on an athlete’s performance. “Maybe we can hold off for another couple of hours. Try the bike in the sauna first.”
Walker shrugged. “Fine man, your call. But you know what your opponent is doing right now?”
Tyson glared at him.
“He’s sweating his ass off to make sure he makes weight so he can kick your ass.”
This was why he preferred to train alone. Smart-ass comments from his cocky fighters who’d be singing a different tune if they were in his shoes didn’t exactly motivate him.
Walker rubbed his shoulders. “You need to get serious, Tyson. Dig deep. That guy training in a shittier gym across town is determined to take away your belt.”
The belt was already gone. Win or lose this fight, the heavy fine the MFL had issued and penalty of an eight-month suspension from the cage for the missing belt were weighing heavily on him. They were sending the replacement belt to his fight preparation room the following evening before the match, but he knew wearing the replacement would only remind him of the mess he’d made of his career and his life these past few weeks.
“Give me the suit.”
* * *
“We’re all heading out. Are you sure . . . ?”
“Have a good time,” Tyson said, not glancing up from his computer screen much later that evening.
Walker lingered at the office door. “You made weight an hour ago, man. You should come with us. Celebrate—put back on some of that bulk you’re going to need . . .”
“Close the door behind you, please.” Parker had arrived at the gym to collect the rest of her things and to say good-bye before she left for LA and they’d decided to go out for a “farewell” drink. He’d already said he couldn’t go and he couldn’t wait for all of them to leave. For her to leave. Once she was gone, he could focus on what mattered again—getting his mind right for the fight the following evening. Until then, he was spiraling out of control.
The door closed, then reopened a second later. “I said I’m not . . .” He stopped when he saw Parker.
“I know you’re not coming out with us so I just wanted to say good-bye.”
He swallowed hard, remaining in his chair as he nodded. “Yeah . . . good luck with the movie,” he said tightly.
“Thank you. And thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Sure.”
“Can you at least look at me while you’re breaking my heart?” she said, quietly.
The hurt in her voice made his chest ache. Then the dull throbbing turned to anger. “Parker, this isn’t Hollywood. This isn’t a movie set.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting here.”
“You’re right. This isn’t a make-believe movie set. For the first time in my life, I’m experiencing something real with you.”
“You wouldn’t know real.”
Her mouth dropped and tears rimmed her eyes.
Damn. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. This was why he’d stayed in his office, fighting the temptation to go to her while she collected her training gear. Why he’d blocked out the sound of her laughing and talking to the guys while they all wished her luck. Why he refused to go out for a drink with them that evening. He couldn’t be trusted not to say or do something that would only hurt her further. He let out a long, deep breath. “I just meant . . .”
“I know what you meant and you’re the one who doesn’t know real. You are so afraid of letting your guard down, expecting everyone to disappoint you. Well, guess what, Tyson—you’re the one letting yourself down.”
She may be right, but he couldn’t change. He’d been this way for so long . . . never letting anyone in, yet somehow she’d managed to break down his defenses. Luckily, he had just enough strength to put them back up. “You’re leaving.” He shrugged. He didn’t think there was really anything else to say. In a few days, she would be back on a movie set with other actors and Brantley Cruise and he wouldn’t even cross her mind. He couldn’t compete with all of that. He wouldn’t even try. She may think what they’d had was real, but it was just because it was different, new, exciting. Eventually, she would realize that and he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to walk away then.
It was over.
“I’m not going away forever,” she said, and he cringed at the sound of hope in her voice. “It’s just a few weeks and I’ll be back for Christmas.”
He stood, pushing his chair back and grabbing his motorcycle jacket. If she insisted on staying here and doing this, he would leave. He needed to get away . . . he couldn’t be around her anymore.
“Tyson . . .” She touched his arm as he passed her, and his eyes flew to her hand. “What are you so afraid of?”
This. This thundering beat in his chest and the excruciating urge to grab her and kiss her. This unfamiliar and unwelcome longing. This feeling that he wasn’t the right man for her and he never would be. He took one step closer and risked one moment of complete vulnerability. “I’m afraid that these feelings I have for you will never go away. And I want them to—fuck—I need them to. So, do me a favor and let me go,” he said.