Mitch’s jaw tensed. “My word is gold, Gage.”
“Then prove it. I’ve carried out my end of the deal, now it’s your turn. After tonight, you leave me and Denny alone.”
A long silence fell over them. Anger, frustration, and resentment twisted O’Donnell’s face into an expression so volatile Gage almost expected to have to fight the guy. But after several more seconds ticked by, the other man backed off. “Fine. Your loss. If you want to throw away this opportunity, then go for it. But FYI—it makes you a f**king idiot.”
“Then I’m a f**king idiot.” Gage flashed a humorless smile. “Will you tell LeSean to grab me when it’s time for my match?”
Mitch scowled. Nodded. Then stalked out of the room.
In a flash, a colossal weight was lifted off Gage’s chest.
When LeSean came to get him thirty minutes later, Gage walked out of the locker room with an actual spring in his step. Genuinely looking forward to climbing in the cage tonight, knowing it was the last time he’d ever have to do it. And once that final bell rang, he’d get the hell outta there and head to Skyler’s house, where he’d spend the whole night in her arms.
Life was finally looking up again.
Chapter Eleven
“Remind me to get you in a good mood more often.” Skyler gasped as Gage rolled off her and collapsed on his back.
“Baby, I’m always in a good mood when I’m with you.”
The smile he flashed made her heart pound. He’d been doing that a lot this week. Smiling. Laughing. Saying the sweetest darn things. He was a gazillion times more relaxed since his last fight, and she was reaping the rewards of it.
“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” She shifted onto her side and propped up on one elbow. “Oooh, or maybe we can go downstairs, and you can show me how to prepare that yummy stir-fry you made the other night—” Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. “Hold that thought.” She leaned over to check the screen, frowned, then kept talking. “Anyway, should we—”
“Don’t anyway me,” he chided. “Who just texted?”
A sigh lodged in her throat. “My stepfather.”
“What did he want?”
“Nothing, really. He calls or texts every few weeks to say hi. Asks if I want to have lunch or dinner or whatever.”
Gage studied her face, his dark brows drawn together. “Why do you look so upset, then? You don’t like him?”
“No, it’s not that…” Hesitation tightened her chest. “It’s just…no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop viewing him as the man who broke up my parents’ marriage. And yeah, I know it takes two to cheat. It wasn’t entirely Clay’s fault—Mom was at fault, too. But every time I see him, I think of my dad, and how brokenhearted he was when Mom left, and…” Her throat closed up. “I know I’m not being fair to Clay, but I can’t help the way I feel.”
“Did he ever remarry?”
“No. And he doesn’t have any other kids.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you think I’m awful for ignoring him?”
“Not at all. I think you’ve gotta do what’s right for you.”
She fell quiet for a moment, resting her head against his chest and listening to the steady beating of his heart. “What about your parents? What are they like?”
“Oh, it’s the usual sob story.” He spoke in a monotone voice. “My dad was a deadbeat. Raging alcoholic, petty criminal. He got arrested for armed robbery about ten years ago. Still in prison as far as I know.”
“And your mom?”
Now that deep voice thickened with pain. “She was a good woman. Gentle, compassionate. She died of cancer when I was eleven.” He lightly tapped the tattoo on his chest. “I put her initials here when I turned sixteen. I guess I wanted a reminder that there really are some good people in this world.”
“I wondered what those stood for.” Skyler traced each letter carefully, experiencing a wave of sadness. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“I’m sorry about yours.”
A comfortable silence settled over them. It was the one thing she’d never expected—the comfort, the pure ease of being with this man. She’d thought they had nothing in common, that their sizzling chemistry was what made it work, but she’d been so, so wrong.
Yes, they were different. She was quick to voice her feelings, while Gage internalized everything. She thought things through, and to some extent, so did he, but he was far more impulsive than her. Like when they’d visited May at the museum the previous weekend—Gage had no qualms about sneaking into an off-limits area to steal a kiss. Or the night they’d gone to grab dinner and he suddenly decided to drive all the way to Portland because he had a craving for lobster, which apparently was only good if you bought it in Maine.
She’d come to appreciate his spontaneity, even look forward to it. Gage had shown her that she could go to work and study but still have fun at the same time. More than that, he made her feel strong and confident, and she loved how bold she’d become because of him.
So bold, in fact, that she didn’t even hesitate before sliding her hand over his rock-hard abs to wrap her fingers around his erection. She gave it a teasing tug, eliciting a groan from him.
“You’re a sex addict,” he grumbled.
“Ha. Like you’re complaining.”