Clash

  CLASH

  THE FIGHTER ROMANCE SERIES – BOOK 3

  By Alycia Taylor

  Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.

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  Read Part 1 - Pulse (The Fighter Romance Series - Book #1)

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Today would make a week since Paul took off to parts unknown to “protect” his sister and his nephew. Today would also make a week since I’d heard from him at all. He hadn’t sent me any clue as to whether or not he was okay. No texts, no phone calls. No reason to believe he was even thinking about me at all. Life went on though…and on. I trudged through the days, fending off more of my mother’s annoying questions while I had my oatmeal in the morning and as I suffered through dinner with her every night. She wondered why I wouldn’t just tell her who I was seeing. What was the big secret? I left the apartment for work every morning just wishing for a few moments of peace. Why in God’s name it suddenly meant so much to her whether or not I had a man in my life and who that man was, was beyond me. She was refraining from bringing up the dealer ex-boyfriend at least since the day that I yelled at her. I guess I should be thankful for small favors. Why she was still talking to him was another thing I couldn’t fully comprehend.

  This morning was no different than any other for the past week. I left the house with my head pounding and started to get into my car. It was such a nice day and I was so wound up that I decided to walk to work. I had a new client coming in today, but not until nine, so I had time. Maybe it would clear my head and once I got to work I’d be able to concentrate and not let all the crap running through my head take over. My new client’s name was Justin Dover….how ironic was that? Sometimes I wondered if the cosmos conspired against me for their own personal amusement.

  As I took off walking I realized that this was exactly what I needed. With each stride my mind became clearer, more determined to stop letting people move in and set up camp there. First it was Paul and then Mitch and Paul’s sister and now my mother. If I really thought about it, I had no problems that were my own. I have a good job a great place to live and if people would seriously just leave me the hell alone…I’d be doing great. As I walked I tried visualizing myself putting distance between them and the heavy emotional chain around my neck that they had all become. The sunlight was warm and inviting and made it easier for me to imagine the promise of a new day. I promised myself that I would attack this one day without giving consideration to a mother who could honestly care less about me, an ex-boyfriend whose name I would love to never hear again and a guy who I was beginning to think of as my boyfriend who hasn’t found the time to so much as call me in a week. I wish that I could entomb everything I felt for him behind a steel wall and throw away the key. It was unlikely that I’d ever see him again…or hear from him. It was fun for the week or two it lasted…

  Shit! There I go again. I started pounding my feet on the pavement in a rhythm. This was the path to my future. No looking back. I’m in command of it all…my mind, my body and my soul. I walked a little faster watching the city change with practically every step. My neighborhood is strictly working class…not poor but definitely nothing like the affluence I was seeing now, two blocks over. This neighborhood was an eclectic mixture of old money houses and upscale markets with smooth glass exteriors and fancy names that most people can’t even pronounce. They’re the kinds of places where the atmosphere smells like perfume and sounds like smooth jazz. The staff is well-groomed and they don’t wear spandex like we do.

  Two blocks later I begin passing the pawn-shops that have been operating since the things they now hock as antiques were new and where the liquor stores and mom and pop supermarkets elbow each other for space. As I passed the bowling alley that’s been closed for almost a decade now I realized that if a person were to only look at the lost souls who camped in the weedy lot out in back of it the would have no idea what the weather was like in our city. One man sat next to his tent wearing nothing but a pair of well-used boxer shorts and another sat about five feet away next to a cardboard hut wearing a camouflage army jacket, wool beanie and gloves. There were others, but this was the part of the walk when I reminded myself to speed up.

  I turned right on the next street I came to and made my way through suburbia. The houses all seem to be poured from the same molds and the lawns were exactly the same height and shade of green. I passed them with the gym looming in the distance and let myself wonder briefly if I would ever be a part of that kind of life…Would I ever live in a nice house on a nice street and drive a nice car. Would I have dinner every night with my nice husband and tuck my nice baby into bed at night? Or, was I destined to be alone, carrying around everyone else’s problems on my shoulders.

  I arrived at the end of the street and on the far side of the gym. I saw Mark getting out of his sleek black Camaro. I waited out of sight until I saw him disappear inside. I’d asked Jeff and Sam to take over his sessions. For some reason he had gone from Mr. Polite and Respectful to a horn dog in a matter of weeks it seemed. Maybe he broke up with his girlfriend or something…I had no idea. I also had no desire to go out with him, and even less to have to tell him no every single day. Since Paul hadn’t been around for a week, he seemed to be getting more determined.

  I slipped into the front door and clocked in. Debbie was at the desk. “Hey girl! You look all fresh and pink-cheeked. Are you having a good morning?”

  I smiled at her and said, “Average at best. The pink cheeks are from walking here.”

  “Oh you should have called me. I would have picked you up.”

  “It’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with my car. I just felt like walking. I needed to work off some frustration.”

  “Sexual…I hope?” I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mark’s voice.

  Before I had a chance to say anything Debbie said, “Knock off the sexually harassing comments Mark or I’ll have Sam show you the door.”

  Mark held up his hands, palms up. “Hey ladies, you know I was just kidding. I’m sorry, Jessie. I thought we were friends.” I ignored him and Debbie continued to glare until he went back out onto the floor and continued his workout.

  “Thanks,” I told her.

  “Hey girl, we’ve got your back. Quit trying to handle everything all alone.”

  “Everything?” Debbie sounded like she knew something that I hadn’t told her.

  “Victoria told me that she noticed you and Paul were getting close…now Sam said he hasn’t been around at all and he wasn’t even sure if he’s going to show up for his fight Friday night. I didn’t want to say anything because you haven’t, but I’ve been worried about you. Men can be such assholes sometimes. I know you keep your business close to your chest honey and I don’t mean to pry. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

  She was right, I hated for people to know my personal business, but it was nice to have friends who had your back. “I’m good. But thank you,” I told her. That was enough information. They could guess about the rest of it if they wanted to.

  “Just remember I’m here…we all are, if you need anything.”

  I knew she was more than just nosy. She was sincere and the people I worked for and with were the kind of people I needed in my life. I needed to work a little harder on cultivating those relationships. I thanked her again and went in the back to change my sweaty tank. After I got the washer fixed I left some clean ones in my locker, just in case.

  By the time
I was changed and wearing fresh deodorant my client, Justin had arrived. Justin’s twenty-four and he’s been running marathons since he was a kid. The advantage of that is of course that he knows his body by now and what it can do and what he needs to do to improve it. The disadvantage is that by the young age of twenty-four, his body has already gone through hell and back and since he wasn’t ready to retire, it was headed for more. Luckily for Justin he’s smart and he knows how important proper training is to keep him from dropping dead in the last stretch of a 30K run.

  “Hi Justin!”

  “Hi Jessie, how are you?” Justin was on the mat stretching. He has one of those long, lean runners body’s. It’s lean muscle though, when he stretches or tenses, every visible muscle in his body becomes perfectly defined.

  “I’m good. How about you?” He stood up straight and started stretching out his neck. He was taller than your average marathon runner. Most of the guys I’ve trained for marathons weren’t much taller than five seven or eight and weighed one-forty soaking wet. Justin was close to six feet and I’d be willing to bet he weighed in at one seventy five. That was okay though because like I said, he knows his body. He knows where he needs to push and today he was here to work on his quads. In a 30K race he was going to need more than speed and stamina on a cellular level. He was going to need a sturdy frame to hold him up.

  “Good,” he said, now stretching out in lunges. “Do you run, Jessie?”

  “Just for fun,” I told him. “I’ve never gone so far as to enter a marathon.”

  “You should try it. It’s really a lot of fun. It gives you this free feeling that you can’t describe, you have to experience. You have a runner’s body you know?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I didn’t want to discuss my body with him, even if it was a harmless discussion. “Are you ready to get started?” I could tell by the look on his face that he got it…I wanted this to be strictly business.

  “I’m ready,” he said.

  “So tell me what you’ve been doing for your quads.”

  “Mostly sprints and squats.” I nodded, that was a good start.

  “That’s good, but let me tell you the best way to train your body. The best way to train is to work through functional exercise. Do you know what that is?”

  “Sort of,” he said.

  “Well let me re-iterate it for you,” I told him with a smile. I’m fresh out of college. I like reciting the book stuff sometimes. “Functional exercise is any workout that imitates the movements that you perform every day when you’re at home or work…anywhere, really. When you climb a flight of stairs or just step up onto your porch at home or step up into your lifted pick-up…”

  “How did you know I have a lifted pick-up?”

  “Had you pegged for the type,” I told him. “As I was saying…Anytime you do those things you are more or less doing the same movement you do when you do step-ups here in the gym. Of course the step-ups are more exaggerated, but they’re the same. Make sense?”

  He grinned, “You’re telling me I’m going to do step-ups, right?”

  His smile was infectious. It was big and toothy and his blue eyes shone when he did it. I felt compelled to smile back. “Yes Justin, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I took him over to where I had the step bench set up and we started with just the barbell. I had him do a few reps just to get his form down. “Step up and use that leg in front to propel yourself up. Bring your back foot up and raise your knee up as high as you can. Good. Now, while you’re keeping the tension on that front leg, step that other foot back down. Good. Now we add weight.”

  We ran through a few sets of those, increasing the weight as we went along. Justin didn’t complain at all even though I knew by the final set or two his legs had to be on fire. When we finished, I had him walk it off for a bit and get some water. After about ten minutes of cooling down we moved on to barbell lunges.

  “Okay,” I told him, “Same premise but instead of step-ups, we’ll be doing lunges.”

  “We’ll?” he said with a laugh.

  “I pay my dues,” I told him with a laugh. “Okay, same thing, empty barbell first with one foot forward, the other back, both knees bent. Keep that forward foot parallel to the floor and don’t let that back knee touch the ground.” On this one as we added weight I could see him getting tired. I had to remind him a few times to pick his knee up and keep it off the floor. When he finished I said, “Good, walk it off and get some more water.”

  He did and when he came back he said, “So Jessie, do you like Need to Breathe?”

  I looked at him strangely. I was thinking “stalker.” How did he know that? I love that band…but how did he know? Was hanging out with Paul making me paranoid all of a sudden?

  “Um…why do you ask?” I said.

  He laughed, “Are you always so suspicious? You look like you just found the shrine of you I keep in my locker.” My eyes must have gotten bigger because he winked and laughed and said, “I’m kidding, Jessie. I asked about the band because they’re playing at The Greek Theatre tonight and I have two tickets.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “You have two tickets and the concert’s tonight and you don’t already have a date to go with? Why not?”

  “I was trying to work my nerve up to ask you.” Again, he had to say, “I’m kidding! I have two tickets, the concert is tonight and my buddy who was going with me cancelled last night because his girlfriend apparently objected to him going out with me…I can’t understand it. I’m a really great guy.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so paranoid. It’s been a weird couple of weeks. But I do see we’ll need to work on that ego too while you’re here. Need to Breathe huh? Wow…I actually love them.”

  “We can make a night of it. The concert starts at eight. I can pick you up at six and we can have dinner first…”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. Why hadn’t I just said no? The last thing I needed was more complication in my life. “Squats now.”

  “Ah, my favorite form of torture.”

  I smiled, “Mine too.”

  He picked up the barbell and said, “Front or back?” Sometimes squats are done with the weights on the shoulders and sometimes with them held in front of the chest.

  “Both,” I told him.

  “You do like this torture,” he said. I had him start with it in front. While he was working I was running all of the reasons why I shouldn’t go out with this guy through my mind. He was a client, I was physically attracted to him so time alone in close quarters might be dangerous…and most of all, he wasn’t Paul. What if Paul came back tomorrow? Would he even care that I’d gone out with another guy? What if I turned down Justin and sat around and waited for Paul…and he never came back. Shit! I went over the reasons I should go then. I had no idea if Paul would ever be back. Paul and I hadn’t gotten to the point of being in a committed relationship even if he did come back. Justin was really cute. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and that wholesome boy-next-door look to him. I absolutely loved Need to Breathe…And the final reason I should: At the very least, going out with this guy would get my mom off my back about my ex…maybe.

  By the time he was finished with the entire exercise, he was whooped. He got some water and walked around on the mats a bit before picking up his towel and wiping the sweat off his face. “So?” he said when he finished.

  “So what?” I asked.

  Shaking his head he said, “I think you’re into more than one kind of torture. So how about tonight?”

  “I guess…it might be fun.”

  “Wow, curb the enthusiasm.” Another good reason for going, he made me laugh. It was something I needed these days. There was nothing wrong with just going out as friends.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him, “I meant to say I’d love to go.”

  “Much better, but by the time I pick you up can you work on your inflection a little more? Put some real
feeling into it for me?”

  I laughed again. “I’ll do my best.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  While I finished my day at work I thought a hundred different times about calling Justin and cancelling. He had left me his number. I shouldn’t do this. I was still screwed up over Paul. I knew I was being ridiculous…Paul and I slept together a couple of times and we had shared some pretty personal stuff…but that didn’t constitute a relationship just yet…and I knew that, rationally. My heart however was telling me that I should give him the benefit of the doubt. He would be back and with that in mind, I should be loyal. I had to believe he really liked me. He had shared a lot with me about his life. I think a lot more than he chose to share with most people.

  I walked back home slowly, batting the pros and cons back and forth in my head as I did. The pros won out today and I convinced myself that since it was just dinner and a concert it didn’t have to be a date. It really could just be two friends hanging out like I said. After all, I wasn’t going to sleep with this guy tonight. Not that if I’d met him at a different time….Justin is a really hot guy. But once again, he’s not Paul.

  “Hey baby,” my mother and roommate greeted me as I walked in the door.

  “Hi Mom.”

  “How was the day?”

  “It was good. How was yours?”

  “I filled out a few applications online,” she told me, obviously proud of herself.

  “Wow Mom, that’s great. Where did you apply?”

  “Some restaurants,” she said, vaguely. I had no idea if she was really applying for jobs. She told me she did every day, but I couldn’t very well check out all of her stories. Besides, she probably wouldn’t stay single for long anyways and then she’d be someone else’s problem for a while. I know that was a terrible way to think of it, but she was my mother and this is who she is.

  “Good for you,” I told her, trying my best to sound encouraging. “Speaking of restaurants, would you like me to order something in for you tonight? I’m going out for a while.”