Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance (4 page)

BOOK: Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance
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“I’m sorry—wait.” I held up a hand, stepping in front of him. This was getting weird…and really, really uncomfortable. He dropped his head, his attention on me again. “What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d stand here with you.” He shrugged, bobbing his head towards the shrill laughter and some people hollering
Chug!
“I don’t really want to be here either.”

“So why’d you come?”

“Because they wanted to. Trying to bag some chicks or something.” His broad shoulders rolled back as he pointed his thumb towards the crowd surrounding the bonfire. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to do the same?” I probed.

“Party chicks aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh.” I took a long pause. “Well, either way, you don’t have to stand here with me.”

He blinked, but before I could say anything more, he pushed off the Jeep, walking around the front bumper and toward the bonfire.

Wait… what?!

“HEY!” I called after him, my feet scuffling ahead before my mind could even register what my body was doing. I rushed around the car and he stopped in his tracks, brows piqued as he ran his eyes up and down my frame. “I didn’t mean you had to leave,” I stated.

“I’m clearly interrupting your alone time,” he replied.

“I… I don’t want to be alone right now. But I also don’t want to be at the party. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to take care of me.” He caught my spur of grief, and his face immediately changed from boastful to apprehensive.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he scanned me with hard eyes, turning in my direction again.

“So… what do you want to do then?”

“I didn’t drive. Do you think you can take me home? I’ll text my friend Kylie to let her know I’ve gotten a ride—but only if you can. If not, I can stick around. I don’t want to ruin her time or yours.” I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

His eyes fell down to my chest, lingering on my cleavage. I started to frown, but I held off.

One: Because I needed a ride from him, away from this
Dark Side
, and two: I kind of didn’t mind it, not that I would ever admit it.

“Fine.” He pulled out his key, unlocking the blue and black F-150. It honked twice. “Get in. I’ll let my boys know I’ll be back.”

My head bobbed. “Okay.”

I watched him turn without another word, casually making his way towards the bonfire. A few people practically jumped out of his way as he walked through the crowd, searching for his friends.

When he finally found them, I hurried to the truck.

Swinging the passenger door open, I slid across the smooth black leather, glad it actually smelled clean and not like most teenage boys’ vehicles.

He had a self-installed radio in the dashboard, and hanging from the rearview mirror was a gold chain, Mardi Gras beads, and a black rope.

The black rope was what caught my attention most. At the end of it was a heavy, blue plastic fist, with the words
Dirty Dawg Pit
printed on it
.

Dirty Dawg Pit?

Bewildered, I sat back in my seat, staring at the fist until Drake showed up, hopping into the truck on its 28-inch rims. The jump in was smooth and effortless, as if he’d honed the routine to perfection.

When he brought the engine to life, that’s when I noticed his red knuckles, the bandaging wrapped around his right hand.

“Something happened to your hand?” I asked as casually as possible.

Before he could put the truck in Drive, he looked down at his hand, and then back up. “Got into a little brawl. Nothing major.”

“Oh. Did you beat him up?”

“Fucked him up.” He chuckled, gripping the wheel, clearly proud of his victory. His laughter had faded, but he still wore a smile as he pulled away and asked, “Where do you live?”

I gave him the address and after he plugged it into to his smart phone’s GPS, he hit the road. Each second away from
The Dark Side
gave me relief.

I allowed myself to calm down, pressing my back against the soft leather of the seat and focusing on the black pavement that Drake’s wheels chased.

“Don’t party often?” His voice cut through the thick silence.

“That was my first party of the year and I didn’t even attend it.”

“Hmm.” He was quiet again, and I looked down at my lap. “Why’d you transfer to public school?”

“I hated private school.”

He let out a deep grunt, one that happened to be a laugh.

“I don’t see you around Lake Lane…” My lips pressed, and I noticed his hands tighten around the wheel, those bloody knuckles somehow whitening.

I knew Drake had dropped out. I’d heard about it as soon as I transferred because I asked Kylie. She knew of him, pointed him out in her yearbook and told me she never saw him again after her sophomore year.

“Why’d you stop coming to school?”

He didn’t answer me right away. Instead he drove until it felt right to respond. “Responsibilities.”

“Like what?”

His jaw ticked, eyes hard on the road ahead of him. “Don’t worry about it.”

I studied him from my angle. His flexed jaw, pinched eyebrows, and tight lips were a dead giveaway of his aggravation. Something told me he had no choice but to drop out… or he simply just hated talking about it.

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it was very important. Besides, there’s always getting a GED.”

He scoffed. “Yeah.”

“Where do you work?” I asked, digging for more. It’d been years since I last saw or spoke to Drake. Eight, to be exact. I needed to know more. I needed to know what I’d missed out on in the last eight years.

He still intrigued me. I had many questions. Being with him in his truck felt like a great opportunity to ask them.

Sitting forward, I lifted the plastic blue fist hanging on the black rope and asked, “Is this a gym? A place you work?”

Reaching forward quickly, he shoved my hand away and gripped the fist with his forefinger and thumb until it stopped swinging. “Don’t touch my stuff.” Out of the corner of his eye, he looked me over, stopping at a red light.

Perhaps the look of fear that passed over my face was what made him lighten up, or maybe it was because he still remembered fifth grade, when I backed him up and even encouraged him to swing with me. He’d had a soft spot for me then, but I was sure I was testing his limits now.

“Please,” he added, his tone partly clipped.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

He whipped his head to look at me. “Don’t apologize to me.”

“Why not? You’re right. This is your car. I shouldn’t be touching your stuff.”

“Yeah, but still. Don’t apologize. Makes you seem weak.”

“Is that what you think of me? As weak?”

“I think you have a bad habit of letting people say whatever they want to you.”

I thinned my brows. “How would you know?”

“I hear shit.”

“The
shit
you hear is most likely rumors.”

He laughed. “I doubt it.”

“Really?” I turned in my seat, giving him my undivided attention. “So what is it that you’ve heard about me, Drake?”

His name came out naturally for me, and when he heard it, he struggled with a smile and a frown. Did he like me saying his name? Hate it?

He didn’t speak on it so I assumed he liked it. “Doug Hide… the smart kid that used to play soccer. Heard he called you a stupid, spoiled rich girl because you kept scoring higher test grades than him.”

“Okay… that one is true, but he didn’t exactly call me out. He made a big deal about it after school one day and I called him a fucking dickwad in front of the soccer team.”

Drake laughed. Like truly, honestly laughed. “Dickwad? Was that supposed to hurt his feelings? Because it damn sure wouldn’t hurt mine.”

I giggled. “Well, you shouldn’t even compare yourself to those guys. You are a lot tougher than some of the other boys in school. And I really don’t care if it did or not. All I did was pass my test. It’s not my fault I’m smarter than he is.”

“You have always been pretty smart.”

“Yeah? Well you have too, from what I can remember.”

He focused on the road again, gripping the wheel as if his life depended on it.

I continued. “I thought I was #1 in our fifth grade class, but Mrs. Pots told me I wasn’t. And when I asked her who it was, she said she couldn’t tell me. I’m pretty sure if it were any of our other classmates, they would have bragged about it until the summer, but none of them ever did… and that only left one person. Someone who hardly ever spoke.”

He pretended he wasn’t listening by cranking the volume of his radio up, but I knew he was. He didn’t turn the radio up loud enough to drown me out.

“Did you seriously have to drop out of school?” I probed. “I mean, couldn’t you have worked around whatever your situation was?”

“It was urgent.”

“But… still. You’re only a minor and I’m sure—”

“Look,
girl
,” Drake snapped, stomping on the brakes as he reached another stoplight. “Just stop asking me questions. I’m not your friend. I’m not someone that will open up to you, no matter how much you bat your big brown eyes at me. I’m only giving you a ride home because you were clearly freaking the fuck out back there at the cliff. I don’t know what the fuck you were freaking out for, but you don’t see me pestering you, asking you a million and one personal questions about it.”

My face straightened. I sluggishly sat back, feeling the seatbelt tighten across my chest. Slowly pulling my line of sight from him, I stared out of the passenger window, fiddling with my fingers.

I’d pushed his buttons. It was clear that he didn’t like to be asked personal things. He’d always been that way, but I thought with time he would have changed.

I was wrong.

God, what was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just shut the hell up?! Or better yet, why couldn’t he just talk to me about it?

The rest of the ride was silent. Other than the roaring of his engine, which soothed me in a way, the silence was deafening.

I wanted to apologize, because he was right. He could have asked me what my deal was back there—why I was panicking about my whereabouts—but he didn’t.

And I knew if he had, I wouldn’t have told him anyway.

The only person I ever told about that was Kylie. And even then, it’d taken me a full year and a half to finally inform her at a sleepover. She’d kept my secret safe. I could trust her.

Drake neared my gated neighborhood. I knew Roger, one of the neighborhood security guards, wouldn’t let Drake in because he wasn’t on the list, so I told him to stop at the curb at the entrance.

Before I climbed out, I had to apologize. His silence was really starting to make me feel bad.

Perhaps I’d triggered something. Something unmentionable.

“Listen, I’m sorry for asking so many questions. I’ve been a very curious person for pretty much my whole life. I’m sure you remember.” I forced a laugh and when he didn’t look my way, or reveal even a hint of humor, I awkwardly continued. “Anyway… um… thank you for the ride. I really appreciate it, Drake.”

When I said his name, he finally glanced at me through the corner of his eye. “Yeah.”

Gripping the silver handle, I pushed out of the truck, climbed down, and then adjusted the top of my dress. I peered up through the open door, spotting Drake looking at my boobs before quickly pulling his eyes away.

My cheeks burned, fire settling in the pit of my belly. I was sure he felt none of those things—whatever it was I was feeling. The same thing I’d felt since becoming friends in fifth grade.

“It was really great seeing you,” I murmured. “Have a good night.”

“Same to you,
Snoop
.”

He pressed on the gas and his engine roared, a signal for me to shut the door so he could go. I didn’t get the chance to respond because he pushed on the gas while idle again, and to avoid anymore disturbances in my quiet, uptight neighborhood, I shut the door, but not before spotting a subtle smirk on his full, pink lips.

He pulled off as soon as the door was shut, and I watched him go until his taillights disappeared.

Snoop?
Snoop?

Was this something he was always going to call me now?

Jenny, the Snooper.

Jenny, the annoying, prying, snooping bitch.

Fighting a sigh, I turned for the gate and after Roger greeted me and let me in, I walked home.

The ride home kept replaying in my head. His small smiles. His gruff laugh. My face was burning up when I recalled him stealing a peek at my breasts only moments ago.

Not even broody Drake could resist the assets of a lady.

I didn’t stop thinking about him that entire night.

Hell, I knew I wouldn’t be able to, because I had way too many questions for him.

I wanted to unfold every single one of his secrets. I needed to know why he’d gotten so upset. Why he dropped out of school to begin with. What that
Dirty Dawg Pit
place was?

I’d never seen a gym with that name, or even a single ad about it.

Funny thing was, I forgot all about
The Dark Side
because I was too busy wondering about him.

My thoughts about him didn’t settle—not until the day I saw him again.

This day was much different. Though there was a rush that flourished throughout my entire body, there was also an ounce of dismay.

Let’s just say some things I didn’t know about Drake had finally come to light.

Chapter 4
Jenny

A
nimal House was
a fitness gym in the heart of Fox River.

From “The House” you could see a clear view of the lift bridge.

On this particular day, The House was packed, filled with scrawny high school and college boys that were dying to look like Henry Cavill, middle-aged women that were working hard for bikini bodies, and of course the everyday meathead jock that thought he was the hottest thing walking without a shirt on.

Unfortunately for me, Kylie had just gotten her membership renewed, which meant tagging along with her for her cycling class at 5:30 p.m.

It was depressingly gloomy that day; I can remember that part clearly.

I remember because, like an idiot, I’d forgotten to check the weather and had tagged along with Kylie sporting a pair of my favorite white Nike Air Max’s.

I’d just gotten them from the mall the previous week, fresh out of the box and onto my clumsy feet.

As soon as we got to Animal House, I stepped out of the car and right into a puddle. A dirty, filthy, no good puddle. That alone had completely tarnished my good mood.

“Why would you wear new shoes to the gym anyway, Jen? Who does that?” Kylie part laughed and part scolded me, planting her hand on her hip.

“We’re only biking,” I muttered. “I wasn’t planning on getting too intense like you do. Plus
someone
didn’t give me much time to change shoes.” I flashed a frustrated smile in her direction, pressing a hand on the hood of the car and bending my leg to wipe off the gravel and icky water from the side of my shoe.

“Ha.” Shaking her head, Kylie twisted around, pressing the button on her key fob to lock her doors. The Camry honked, and then she said, “Well, hurry. I don’t want to miss out on a good spot.” I caught up to her, meeting at her side before she crossed the parking lot and then pulled the entry door to the gym open. “ I guess next time you’ll know not to wear those expensive shoes when I’m around.” She tried extremely hard not to laugh, her lips crushing together as she did her best to contain the humor.

“There won’t be a next time,” I scoffed as she slugged the door open and walked in. I trailed behind her as a few members passed by us to reach the exit. “Why couldn’t we just work out in front of my
Kinect
or in my dad’s gym?”

“Uh, because I wanted to workout
here
… where all the really hot guys are,” she stated, sarcasm laced in her voice.

I laughed. “But what about Trace?”

Her eyes did a slight roll. “I was going to get to that.” She briefly chewed on her bottom lip. “We…broke up this morning.”

“What?! Why?”

She pursed her lips, and after dropping her gym bag she said, “I hate him. That’s why.”

I knew that response was nothing but a load of bullshit. There was no doubt that she loved Trace, even when he was boastful and sharp-tongued. She always put up with him.

“Oh, man.” We walked through the double doors where the stationary bikes were and I placed my water bottle in the bike with the nearest cup holder. “What did he do now? I swear you two are like cats and dogs.”

“No, Jen, this is the last straw. I swear. I’m so done with him.” She waved a hand to dismiss the comment I left in the air. “I saw that moron talking to Greta Wheeler at the bonfire. You know, the one that loves to suck every guy’s cock in the boys’ bathroom for fun?”

“So what?” I frowned.

“So what!? Jen, she had her hands all over him. Touching him when she laughed”—she reached forward, her face full of disgust as she pretended to be Greta, running her hand over my shoulder. Jerking away, she said, “I heard her cackling like a fucking hyena the entire time I was talking to Brandy, and it got so annoying that I had to look back to see what she was laughing so hard about… and what do I see? My fucking
boyfriend
chatting it up with the school slut!” She grimaced as she climbed on the seat of one of the stationary bikes, gripping the handles.

“I mean, it wouldn’t have been so bad if he weren’t so close to her, laughing with her, when I had specifically told him to stay away from that
slutbucket
at all costs, but he didn’t listen to me. He disobeyed. If you want to be my boyfriend, you
do not
disobey.” She side-eyed me as I climbed on top of my bike next, tucking the loose strands of her brown and blond ombre hair behind her ears.

“What are you, his mom?” I laughed.

“No, I’m his girl—
was
his girlfriend of ten months and he couldn’t respect that. But whatever.” She sat up straight. “I don’t care right now because my parents are out of town and I’m throwing a big-ass party tonight. That’s why I dragged you out here, so we could discuss it. Everyone is going to come, including Braxton Pine. He’s always had a thing for me. I think I’ll take him up on it. I’m sending a text as soon as we get out of here. And when I say everyone, Jenny, I mean
everyone
.” Her voice went deep as she said the last word.

“Ugh… another party. Really?” I groaned, watching as the female instructor sauntered into the room with two water bottles and placed them in front of the window ahead of us. “Why can’t we just have a sleepover and sneak some of your mom’s wine again?”

“Because we only do that when we’re both in the dumps, Jen. But you’re fine and I’d hate to bring your mood down so a party it is and you have to come. Please!” she begged, poking her bottom lip out to pout. “I will literally cry if you don’t. I need you! I need someone that will get drunk with me. You can spend the night if you want, I don’t mind at all. You know this.”

“Yeah, but my parents have this big ‘books and tea’ brunch thing they want me to attend tomorrow morning. I don’t want to be hungover while also being dragged there.” I sighed, annoyed just thinking about the brunch.

“Oh, psshh. You won’t. We’ll have a few drinks and then I’ll let you go to catch some sleep. Though, I don’t think you’ll want to get any sleep with the type of party I plan on having. I’m talking bottles of white and brown everywhere. A ton of pot and a shitload of beer. Loud-ass music and lots of people. It’s going to be the party of the fucking year.”

“And all this you planned in one day?” My voice held a hint of sarcasm as I cocked a brow in her direction.

“Shit, the best parties are the ones that are unplanned.” The instructor told us to turn on our machines and once that was done, Kylie said, “Don’t worry. It will be fun… and you can totally bring lover boy over there to keep you company.” She pointed through the glass window ahead with a manicured fingernail—the window that gave view to most of the gym members—and when I looked where she was pointing, I spotted Drake.

He held a stance in front of a red punching bag, his large hands buried in leather gloves, his face and gray T-shirt shirt soaked with sweat. A baldheaded man stood a few feet away from him, his face hard as he observed his every move, calculating each cross and hook.

“What happened last night, anyway?” Kylie asked, panting as her speed picked up. “Did you guys make out before he took you home? Is that why he agreed to do it?”

I shook my head, doing my best to hide my reddened cheeks. “No… nothing like that. I actually kind of pissed him off ‘cause I told him he never should have dropped out of school.”

“Well, shit, what did you expect, Jen? You can’t just go up to someone like him and say whatever you’re thinking! You hardly even know that guy. Sheesh, girl. You seriously have to chill with that whole
speaking your mind
thing. It could get you killed.”

“Whatever. I may not know much about him but I do know he isn’t as bad as everyone thinks he is. He wouldn’t have given me a ride home if he was.”

“Are you kidding?” Her head shook swiftly as she swiped above her eyebrow. “He’s worse than when my niece McKenzie was going through her “terrible two” phase. I hear so many horror stories about him. It’s insane. They call him
Doomsday
for a reason.”

My forehead creased. “Doomsday? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know, his underground fighter nickname. He fights dirty, wins a pocketful of money.” She paused, turning up the notches of her bike as our workout increased, peering my way and narrowing her eyes. “Wait—you didn’t know he was a fighter?” She released a hoarse laugh. “How did you not know that?”

“I… never bothered to ask.”

“His looks are a dead giveaway. Guy looks like he’d take on a lion if it meant being king of the jungle.”

My gaze switched from hers to the window again, and as Kylie quickly dismissed the subject of me not knowing about Drake and started talking about how her party was going to be the
“highlight of the Lake Lane century”,
I couldn’t help but steal glances of him.

Doomsday? What the hell did that even mean? He wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. In fact, I actually thought he was pretty sweet when he wanted to be.

He punched the bag, jaw locked, body tense.

He looked over his shoulder and said something to the bald man with a grimace. The bald man walked away, but not before a mini-showdown.

Hmm…

I guess I could see where people got the idea. He looked like a troublemaker, with his inked arms, firm jaw, and fierce green eyes. It was hard to read him—hard to truly understand him… someone that hardly ever said a thing.

Our workout lasted forty minutes, and after we were done, Kylie ran to the locker room to get a few things she’d left behind from before.

As she took the time to do that, I stepped out of the workout room, pausing in the middle of the gym and watching Drake doing reps at a pull-up bar, now shirtless.

His face hardly strained as he pulled up and then dropped. His entire upper half was locked and solid, thus proving that he’d gone through this routine daily. His abs glistened with sweat that trickled down to the V carved into his waist. With his legs locked, he did one last set of pull ups, and then he hopped down.

Snatching up a towel, he swiped away the sweat on his face, tousling his spiky black hair and ridding himself of the wet beads that dripped from his temple to the sharp curve of his jawline.

Looking up, he scanned the gym, as if he felt someone were watching him. He thinned his eyes, looking around until he finally caught sight of me: the fool watching his every move.

I hadn’t realized that I was still standing in the middle of the gym, looking like a complete idiot, with a towel around the back of my neck and my brand new sneakers on.

His eyes held mine, intent, but then he quickly dropped his gaze to my feet, and I swear I spotted a tiny smile touch the corners of his mouth. That smile held a mixture of humor and a little too much ego.

Pressing his lips, he dropped his towel, walked towards the dumbbells in the far corner, and I moved to my right. I took a step back, looking towards the locker room to see if Kylie had come out. She hadn’t, but I kept staring that way to avoid his existence.

Why in the hell was I staring at him anyway?
You’re acting like a weirdo, Jenny! Stop staring!
I scolded myself.

Without a doubt, I knew I wouldn’t be able to help it. There was something about him that fascinated me.

He was like a masterpiece, one that everyone admired simply because of its beauty, despite its flaws. His flaws were what made him—his stone cold look and brutal appearance. His standoffish behavior. It all defined who Drake Davenport was.

His biceps bulged as he brought the dumbbell up, curling his arm, his hand gripping the iron bar. Those green eyes flickered up, landing on mine, and I stilled.

For a moment, as we stared at one another, I couldn’t breathe. He had me in a trance with those bold irises, dropping his gaze to get full view of my body, wrapping me up in his imaginary hands. And I allowed him, snuggling into the embrace, never wanting to let go.

With an upwards tug of the cheek, Drake dropped the fifty-pound dumbbell and then lifted his hand, flicking his fingers and silently demanding me to come to him as if he were tired of me standing around looking hopeless.

My breath snagged, catching in the back of the throat. He still held my eyes, green matching brown, and without much thought I walked forward, way too eager to be in his presence.

The connection was undeniable, the pull of his imaginary rope bound me, drawing me in, tugging tight. I kept walking until I was less than a foot away from him, and he sighed, running strong fingers through a bed of thick, black hair.

“Still snooping?” he questioned, one brow piqued.

“No. What do you mean?” I retorted, defensive. “I’m not snooping.”

“So why are you watching me? Why are you
here
?”

“At a gym that everyone at Lake Lane goes to?”

He narrowed his eyes.

I challenged him with the same expression.

“You’re watching me.”

“I was debating on if I wanted to say hello.”

“Okay.” He crossed his large arms across his broad chest, smirking down at me. “Now’s the chance. Say it so I can get back to my workout.”

I stepped away. “Why did you tell me to come over if you were just going to be a dick about it?”

That made him chuckle. “Oh, I’m being a dick?”

“Uh, yeah. A small, ugly, hairy one.”

His mouth twitched. He fought a laugh as he picked up the dumbbell again, raising it above his head and pumping. “Get your hello out and go about your way, Snoop.”

“What does that even mean?” I folded my arms.

“Means you’re nosy. Ask too many questions.”

“How?”

“Like now.” He grinned.

I wanted to slap that cocky grin right off his face. “Well, now I don’t
want
to tell you hello since you’re being an asshat.”

He dropped the weight, gluing his hands above his hips and moving forward. I caught a whiff of sweat, his natural scent, and a touch of deodorant. He smelled good, like a green forest with pine trees, and my insides rolled, throat thickening as he closed the gap that was between us.

“I’m kidding, Snoop.” He dropped his eyes to my feet again. “Why would you wear those here?”

I didn’t want to give him the same answer I gave Kylie, so I said, “I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on working out too hard. Plus, my friend dragged me here. Didn’t have much time to get ready.”

BOOK: Doomsday Love: An MMA & Second Chance Romance
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