Without Chris, I wouldn’t be where I was now. I was a good fighter, but it wasn’t just about fighting, it was about who you trained with and who you knew. Chris knew everyone, all the managers and all the coaches. He also knew enough fighters that I often ended up training with pros. It sounded like he had another one lined up. Good. I needed someone to challenge me.
Through the one-way glass, I could see MacKenzie as she jumped on the treadmill for her morning run.
“Where’d you take her?” I asked. I hadn’t meant to ask Chris about his night with Kenzie, but I couldn’t stand not knowing. What was it about her that made me lose control?
“Zito’s,” was his one-word answer.
Shit. I gave him the perfect opportunity to spill the details, and he didn’t take it. I’d spent all last night beating myself up about the two of them out together. Alone. I wanted them to go and have a good time. I wanted Kenzie to have fun. I kept on telling myself that.
But I knew Chris. I knew he liked to bag them as soon as he possibly could. And the thought of him touching her made me really glad I wasn’t juicing, because I already wanted to pound him just for the image that put in my mind. So I’d promised myself I wouldn’t ask, and hopefully he wouldn’t tell me.
Only he always told, so why wasn’t he talking now? Could it be that nothing actually happened?
I looked out at her on the treadmill. God, I wanted to know so bad I almost flat-out asked him if he fucked her. Get a grip, Ian.
“That’s a pretty high-end restaurant,” I said instead. Because it was, for him. Normally a girl was lucky if he took her to an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“I was in the mood for something different.” Chris shrugged. “Besides, MacKenzie is different.”
Damn right, she was. I took a deep breath. Something about the way he said that, though, got under my skin. There was only one thing worse than them having sex, or maybe just as bad—
He could be falling for her.
“You’re cool with me dating her, right?” he asked. “You don’t have anything going with her, do you?”
“No.” The word felt like sawdust in my mouth. “It’s fine. Just be careful, she’s Cade’s girl’s best friend. They’re like family. So don’t fuck with her.”
The last part might have come out a bit more venomous than I’d intended. Too fucking bad. When it came to MacKenzie, something inside me needed to make sure she’d be treated right.
Chris lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “Like I said, she’s different. I think I could actually like her. Hey, speaking of women, when’s the last time you saw some action?” He broke out into a big smile, and I wanted to pound him. Again.
“Dick,” I said.
He was fucking with me, but it was no joke, I needed a good ground-and-pound with a coed. Maybe that would get my mind off MacKenzie. Besides, I was getting serious blue balls from all the sex I was not having. Another sacrifice I made while in training mode.
Sex was a distraction. One that I desperately wanted, but couldn’t afford. There was an important fight in just under a week. I was the sure bet, but my opponent actually had a chance. And that meant I had to be on top of it. I had to win. My dick would have to wait his turn.
“I’m gonna go suit up,” Chris said, then got up to leave. “See you out there.”
On his way out, he stopped briefly to talk to MacKenzie. She smiled at him, then laughed at something he said. I couldn’t help but notice the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
He headed to the locker room, leaving MacKenzie on the treadmill. It wouldn’t hurt to sit and take in the view. Besides, I had a few minutes.
Give up the chance to watch her run? I might be in training mode, but I was still a man.
Six
MacKenzie
I knew this double-date thing was a bad idea, but I couldn’t explain why. Chris had a way of talking me into things without me even realizing it, so here I was, getting ready for yet another date with him. A double date with Ian, no less.
I downed a glass of chardonnay—my get-ready-to-go-out drink of choice—as I stood over my bed, trying to figure out which dress to wear. It was down to the navy blue dress with a flowing skirt and a modest scoop-neck top, or the skintight wine-colored spaghetti-strap number.
Glancing at the clock, I sighed. Chris was due to pick me up any second now. I needed to make a decision.
Screw it. If Ian was coming with a date, it didn’t matter anymore. I was going to wear the sexiest thing I had, and he could just see what he was missing.
Stepping into the skintight dress, I pulled it up. The buzzer rang as I slid into my shoes. I took one last swig of wine and hopped out the door, pulling my second shoe on as I struggled to maintain the hold on my clutch. I skipped down the stairs and out the door, slamming right into Chris.
“Well, hello,” he said as he stumbled back, catching us both. “You in a hurry, sweetie?”
He smiled and looked down at my face, then he looked down farther. My cleavage appeared to have gained his attention.
Fine. Let him look. I tried to convince myself that I wanted to date Chris; maybe it was time for me to shit or get off the pot, or whatever. I stumbled a little and hiccupped.
“Oops. Hi, Chris,” I said, my voice coming out higher than normal.
He took my arm, steadying me. “You’re starting a little early tonight, don’t you think?”
“I may have had a little too much getting-ready wine,” I explained, my face hot. Yep, definitely too much. “Sorry.”