Fighting to Stay (Fighting Madly Book 2) (18 page)

BOOK: Fighting to Stay (Fighting Madly Book 2)
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“You have to be quick to get to me.” My voice is deep and dry but it doesn’t stop the corner of my mouth from turning up but my eyes remain closed.

“You suck balls, mark my words, one day I’m going to get you.” Hadley places a kiss in the center of my chest.

“One day isn’t today.” I open my eyes, refreshed and more relaxed than I’ve felt in, well, ever.

Hadley props her face under her arm, her eyes shine so fucking bright. “So you know all those times you called me when I was gone?”

“You mean me going borderline crazy? Yes, I remember.”

“I had this phone I forwarded all your contacts to.”

“You are a sneaky woman.”

“I am. Anyway, I threw it away yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Because I don’t need to hear how much you want me back because you got me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Good thing most of them were drunk dialing but some of those I put a lot of effort into. I mean not poetry shit but they got pretty deep. But she’s right. I got her.

“Let’s do something fun and go ride some four wheelers today, get muddy and have fun.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ve been a few times with Matt’s whatever she is called…It’s fun.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“And one day I want to move away from the city, not too far away so it takes hours to get to the mall, but far enough to have land to get more dogs, and not neighbors.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You gonna say anything but ‘oh, yeah’?”

“Nope you could ask me to turn and cough right now because your tit is on my chest and that’s all I can think about.”

A smack on my chest and the laughing from Hads makes it even worse because now her tits move with it. “Always with your dick, you know we are going to do it at least two more times before we leave this bed.”

“I know.”

“You know this doesn’t mean I’m moving in with you.”

“I know.”

“And you know my rule for seeing each other every other night is still in effect.”

“I know.”

“Reed?”

“Yes, Hads?”

“You know I love you and this time it’s forever?”

My fucking face is going to break if I keep this smile shit up. “That’s fucking right.”

Forever, like I would give her any other option for that shit.

She’s it. Forever and fucking always. Madly. Two sparrows and all that mess. Naked, no tits, clothes, dirty, smelly, she’s it. We are just fighting to survive life and doing it next to each other.

 

 

The days of wondering if Reed will be in my life, in my heart, are long gone. He’s it. I was only nineteen, young, a sophomore in college, and never knew what love was when I met him. I remember the exact moment the butterflies entered my stomach for the first time. And each and every time after that they would flutter just when I thought of him. The first kiss, the first date, the first fight, I remember it all. I would daydream for hours, in class, at work,
anywhere
about what our future would be. Those ideas were filled with no angst, no fights, no other people sharing in our
bad
because nothing could tear us down. We were strong and tight to fit, and what we had was intangible to others around us. Invincible.

When I laid my head down at night, closing my eyes and falling asleep never came slow because my life was better than anything my wildest dreams could come up with, because he was my world, I revolved around him. He revolved around me.

Reed was rough around all his edges, and the opposite of my preppy high school boyfriends in all ways. His tattoos, his life growing up, his career choice, all incredibly different. But it never mattered to me. I didn’t ever care when it came to him. He threw the rules out the window with each touch he shared, with each smile he gave me, with every longing glance he offered.

I loved him.

He loved me.

We loved each other. Without reason.

Then life got in our way, and that same love that had lifted me up stomped me to the ground. Later, when we were away, lost to each other, I thought we never would get back, never be one unit again. The twists and turns of our lives away changed us in a way I didn’t see coming, because we were both going ninety miles an hour in the opposite direction with no way to stop. But we did, or I did. I hit the wall dead-on with no brakes. Crumbled to the floor in the wreckage of truths being untold. Nothing left of any of the dreams of our future I’d pictured in my younger, naïve days, because I knew
tragedy
, I knew
pain
, I knew what
missing
really means.

But our love never died, it only grew.

Each day that came and went, Reed stood not in front of me or behind me, but right next to me while I picked up the pieces to make myself whole again. Some of those pieces I picked up were because of him, some were because of me. Some were because of outside influences. Yet he accepted me for all the things I hated the most. And I fell deeper.

Because he loved me, for me.

And I loved him. Again. Without thinking.

We both knew where things went terribly wrong, and we were determined to change how our fate played out. Only fate doesn’t work that way. You can’t mess with it, you can’t veer from its path without it coming back to show you who’s the boss.

Now, two years later, with my love for him still threaded in every part of my being, fate shows back up laughing, mocking us with each turn I take.

I stare into those hazel eyes—
his
—and see not a speck of living beam back at me. I know this is because of how things played out, how we wanted to change our plan in life. Only this time, I have something bigger, something to prove to fate—that we are right together.

And now my time has come to be here for Reed, to be his shoulder, to hold his hand, even with every push and shove he gives me. I will be there for every step he takes.

Because that’s what loving someone
madly
really means.

Fuck fate, Reed is mine.

 

I close my laptop, my phone under my ear on hold with the distributor for yet another mess I have to fix. Hoots and hollers from the gym travel their way in here mixing with the words on the other end. I stand and glance out my office door to see a mix of Reed and Lance on the mat twisted in wrestling moves. I smirk. Lance will forever try to take my man down in the cage. Only problem, it’s never happened and never will. Reed will always be the beast over him.

When I left the rehab center, Reed held onto every promise he gave me. We dated like the normal couple I always wanted: movies, coffee, and bowling. We did it all. He even entertained my urge to have more time outdoors getting dirty and bought me my own four-wheeler for Christmas. The old Reed would have been annoyed, that I wanted it slow. I mean, we moved like a snail going uphill and to the point it was painful for us. But he wasn’t annoyed, he wasn’t pushy. Reed took my hand, and went as slow as I needed. He tries to save face when I brag to our friends about how patient he was with me, by telling them that he was only nice and sweet to get back in my pants, but that’s a lie.

Reed did it for me, because it’s what was best for me.

Three months ended up being enough. The kisses at my door weren’t coming close to satisfying the urge in me, and it turned out one flip of a towel was all it took to welcome him back into my bed. That night was as close to perfect as it could be. We spent it wrapped in each other’s arms, exploring the new us, the new heights of us. I thought by the time the sun rose the next day, my stuff would be in boxes and movers would be halfway done moving me back into his house.

Nope. He still waited. Put off until I was ready. Until the constricted hold I had on the rules I’d placed diminished. Even if it caused him a crazy set of blue balls most days.

One morning about a month after our night in bed, I was rushing around his place to get ready for work and realized I was putting off the inevitable when I forgot my work shoes. We made the choice to move into his house. Together. No pressure over our heads, not one fight over it, only communicating what was right for us. Pie charts and list with pros and cons might have been made. But the important thing is we did it side by side.

Reed was going to throw the towel on the cage for me, abandon the thing that pulled us apart to begin with. He repeated to me over and over, he was okay to wash his hands of it, but it’s him. Riker’s in his soul, and I love that part of him just the same as Reed. So with one giant push from me, he stepped back in.

Guns blazing.

It was a tough and rough road to get in the league’s good graces again, even longer to get fights worth his time and effort, and he had the suspension hung over his head. Not to mention the fines he had to pay were insanely enormous, but he didn’t back down for that challenge and hit it head on. The league lacked the exposure he gave the sport, and once his fans got wind of a comeback, they couldn’t turn his pleas down even if they wanted to. He’s the bad-ass Riker, and he plays that part so damn well, what’s not to want?

Reed wouldn’t dare speak the truth to me, but the way his face lit up after his first night back in the cage, said it all.

He loves that cage almost as much as he loves me.

Now his year-long hold from winning championships is up. He’s training for his chance to take back the belt, the belt he’d handed over in order to be there for me, and now he’s ready. It’s only the start of the second week into camp and he’s on fire. Morning, noon, and night he trains. Each and every time he does something new, it’s fluid like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He makes it look like an art. Maybe it’s been like that with other camps, only this time, I get to see all aspects of it.

My time as a nurse was gone even with my rehab time. I’m too big of a liability for hospitals to insure, and I accepted that long ago. Working with my father or brother isn’t an option. I haven’t forgiven or forgotten; the pain is just too deep for me to completely let go yet. My father and I only speak when we are thrown into a situation that calls for some type of communication, and Mark is too skittish with me just being present in the room to have anything meaningful happen between us. That type of awkwardness on a day-to-day basis is a dark cloud over my happiness.

I spent some time in therapy even after rehab, opening up more, digging deeper into what makes me tick. That time was well spent. It opened my eyes to even bigger things, bigger mistakes I was still making. Helping others helped me so I volunteered on the foundations my mother had been on the boards of, and each function I had a hand in planning, each raffle ticket I sold, it brought me a sense of peace from missing my mother.

Yet I still yearned for something
just for me
, something to ground me, something well…not to help me become a better person, not to hide the grief from a missing loved one, but for fun. Honest-to-goodness fun.

Things fell into my lap when Reed came to me with an offer, when he stepped back to handle the incident with me. He needed a steady flow of income, so time was focused more on his own clothing line and it blew up, carried not just online, but in department stores all over the world.

When training began again, the time he spent on his line became a back thought, and the pile of paperwork that he couldn’t do grew higher each day. One night after a day full of practice and hours spent in his office playing catch up, he climbed in bed with the offer to take over as his managing partner. Reed looked pitiful all stressed and the offer was insistent and I said yes immediately. I didn’t think I would enjoy it, and I only accepted it to keep my hands busy, but I found my niche, my place in my new life. And sometimes I think I enjoy it more than I ever did nursing, I’m eager to get to my desk each morning, to see what waits for me, love seeing a design come to life, I relish figuring out how to make something from nothing. And the view from my desk offers some amazing eye candy daily, which could play a role in it, too.

Only a tiny one, though. A teeny tiny one.

 

“Hads! Get your cute little ass out here and show Lance up, because he keeps spitting shit that you can’t do the spin move from last night.” Reed’s deep voice echoes off the cement walls of the gym, causing all the guys’ heads to whip my way.

I narrow my eyes his way as I mumble a goodbye to the distributor and my cheeks burn red from the outside attention. “Can we not do it with the audience?” I step out of my office, my arms crossed over my chest. He knows I hate when he pulls this card in front of everyone.

Reed lifts his arms and grins with shining pride. “Where’s the fun in that? Show these lazy fuckers my girl is better than any of these fools.” He looks at all of them and beams. “I’m fucking telling you guys. Don’t mess with shorts girls like my girl here. Yes cute as shit, but they are ninjas and perfect height to head butt in your balls. And Hadley can do just that to me. Still can’t get me to tap out though. Isn’t that right, babe?”

When the night of my meltdown came up with Graham for what seemed like the billionth time, I brought up the punching bag and how it calmed me down and the idea sparked in his head to start it on a regular basis. I wasn’t given a chance to entertain the idea for more than two seconds. The words were barely out of my mouth before Reed dragged me to the gym. That night, Reed didn’t baby me, didn’t hold his skills back. He flipped me, laid me flat on that mat more times than not, but beneath the bruises and sore muscles, a passion was born.

Before the sun has a chance to rise in the mornings, when no one else is around, Reed trains me in all things, and each night after the last member leaves I take what I learn out on Reed. He’s badgering me to get in on a women’s league, but I’m afraid if I do that it won’t be my outlet, it will become a chore or job. It helps ease my demons from rearing their heads, and it provides the physical strength to be able to fend off attackers if I’m ever in a situation again. That is why I do it.

I take a deep breath as I move through the gym. The fighters’ gazes follow me with each step I take, yet with giant smiles on their faces that cause the nerves in my belly to dance around. I focus on each move of my legs, and the steps leading up to the cage creak as I walk, ignoring all the men surrounding the chains. Lance slaps Reed on the back and bumps into my shoulder as he passes me, a huge grin playing on his face, too.

“Mm…what in the world is going on, and why do all these men seem to think I’m a big piece of meat?”

“Not a clue, now let’s shut them up with your mad skills. That I taught you.” Reed’s voice is strong, confident but his normally olive skin is ghostly pale. And his hazel eyes aren’t meeting mine as his muscled arm grabs my body and hooks his hip, flipping me slowly to the ground.

Reed locks my head on the other side of his and twists my left arm behind my back, trapping me against the coarse mat. His rough cheek grazes over my ear, sending chills down my neck. His breathy words are the only thing I hear, the only thing I want to focus on. “You know I love you fucking madly, Hads. We’ve been through some shit. Lots and lots of it. And we only came out on the other side ever stronger.”

“I know,” I say, my words bouncing off the mat.

The stark coldness of something slips on my finger, on
that
finger.

“Marry me,” he says, flat out. He doesn’t ask. Reed tells me. Straight and to the point. So like him.

And everything but my mind stills.
Is it too soon after what we went through? What about having children? My family isn’t our biggest fan. Could we make it? I still have shit wrong in my head. More and more doubts cloud a moment that should only be our joy.

Reed’s restraint loosens and he flips me over effortlessly, his hard, callused fingers touching my face, his eyes locked on mine. “Hads, I know your brain is freaking out, doing that over-thinking shit it does. But it’s time to do this, to make it real. Your last name needs to be Collins. Things need to be dealt with, we finally go get you checked out to see if I can put babies in your belly, or we start the adoption process. Either way, we are going to find out. I fucking love you, all of you. So let’s do it. The real deal and all.”

“Yes.” I glance down at my finger and the shiny, wrapped diamond band. It’s simple and so utterly my Reed. I lift my face meeting his lips. “You are insane.”

“Tell me something I fucking didn’t know. And this is for me.”

“Huh?”

“The ring is for me, you know. It’s sexy as hell, too. It’s a huge sign for all those losers to step the fuck back and stay away from my girl.” His voice is so damn breathy and I know he means it. Reed’s color is back, his eyes light so brightly, and that smile of his hits me deep in the pit of my heart. “And I wasn’t asking, but glad you said yes. Makes it a lot easier for me.”

“What would you have done if I’d said no?” I push up, propping myself with my arms, my grin plastered on my face. Damn thing may never fall.

“Babe, let me just say some duct tape in a basement with no windows was the tamest idea I had.”

“You would have kidnapped me?”

“Fuck, yes.” His face is dead serious. Not one muscle moves to show he was joking.

“You really would?”

“You know it.”

Why am I even shocked? Not a clue. Reed has me on lockdown in the best way possible. The thought of me leaving him again, or the thought of some kind of bomb being thrown to destroy what we built, freaks us both out. We know what it’s like to lose each other, to have our soul so depleted it’s gone. How hard we had to claw our way out of the ditch to be back into each other’s hearts, to never want to jeopardize it again.

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