Knockout (Fighting For Love Book 1) (5 page)

Willow smiles gratefully at her friend, but her tone is serious. “Brunch tomorrow and I want a full de-brief on Grayson Fletcher.”

GRAYSON

He drives faster than he should, but he’s geared up, agitated. His whole body feels like it’s buzzing. Adriana. The girl from a lifetime ago, the girl who still haunts his dreams. Suddenly, she was there in front of him. He still can’t quite get his brain to believe that it really was her.

She looked amazing, like she always did. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore; she was most definitely a woman and an impossibly beautiful one at that. Her big green eyes framed in long black lashes still made him feel as if she could see right down to his soul, like she saw every part of him. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

He’d almost forgotten how tiny and petite she was, how she made him want to protect her, pick her up, and hold her close to him. He’d had to look away from her, at anything else, to stop himself from reaching out to touch her, to sift the hair that he knew was like silk through his fingers, and to trace the line of her full rosebud lips.

She must have thought that he was an idiot, barely able to string a sentence together when he saw her. She’d introduced herself, as if he may not remember her. How could she know that she’d been with him all these years, reminding him of what he’d missed out on, what he’d run away from?

Seeing her had done something to him. He rubs his chest absently. Talking to her, being close to her again, had made him feel like his heart was beating faster or perhaps that it had stopped altogether. When he’d shook her hand, he hadn’t wanted to let go. That was dangerous, he’d known that instantly. She was dangerous to him and him to her. His past was going to catch up with him sooner or later, and when it did it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Besides, it’s too close to the fight. He can’t afford distractions, he doesn’t need them, and Adriana coming back into his life is one big fat distraction. What they’d shared had been a lifetime ago; he had been a different person then, a kid, they both were. It doesn’t mean anything anymore; they hadn’t even had sex for Christ’s sake, he reasons. However, if that’s all true, then why hasn’t he been able to stop thinking about her for the past ten years and why is he shaking like a nervous kid?

Man up, Fletcher
, he tells himself.
Stop being a pussy. She’s just a girl, a girl that in all likelihood you’re never going to see again.
He ignores the dull ache that settles across his chest when he thinks about that and puts his foot down on the accelerator, driving faster away from her.

ADRIANA

Adriana lies awake, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the rattling of her ancient air conditioning unit. When she’d moved out of Willow’s amazing house and got her own apartment, she’d realized just how far her salary would go in the real world. The answer was—not all that far. That said, she loved that the place was hers and hers alone; it was her little oasis of calm. Willow hadn’t understood why she wanted a place of her own, but she’d respected Adriana’s decision, besides it wasn’t like she needed the rent money. Willow had even helped her paint the walls of her new place in bright blues and yellows, happy colors that reminded her of the photos that her father had shown her of Cuba.

Adriana used to wonder if that’s why her mother had left them, because Philadelphia hadn’t lived up to her expectations of what life in the US should have been. It wasn’t colorful or vibrant like Cuba had been. Not for the first time, Adriana thinks that her mom would have loved Miami. Perhaps she’s here, part of the immense Cuban community. Adriana doesn’t think all that much of her mother anymore. She doesn’t know enough about her to wonder what she’s like, what she’s doing, or why she had left her father and her when she was so young.

But tonight, it isn’t her mother who is on her mind; it is Grayson Fletcher, the man who kept her awake night after night, crying into her pillow. She’d resolved not to waste any more time thinking about him. She reasoned that since he’d left without a word, he didn’t deserve her tears. But here he was, ten years later, and the way that he made her feel hadn’t changed one bit. Just the thought of him makes her skin tingle. It’s like her whole body is more alive when she’s near him.

She replays their conversation in her head over and over, and each time she watches it unfold she feels more embarrassed. First, she had been unable to speak, then she had suffered from verbal diarrhea, all the while he had been looking around, clearly wishing that he was somewhere else, wishing that she had spilled her drink on anyone but him. She’d put him out of her mind ten years ago, and she can do the same thing again now. But when she closes her eyes, all she sees is a boy with curly hair and a smile that makes her heart skip a beat.

GRAYSON

Not even four hours of sleep, and Grayson is feeling like crap as West runs him ragged on the beach.

“I told you, you rock up with a hangover, you’re gonna regret it!” West shouts over his shoulder, as he cycles ahead of Grayson.

“And like I told you, I don’t get a hangover from two freakin’ beers, West.” Grayson breathes hard, as he struggles to catch up with the bike, knowing that his coach is cycling hard to stay ahead of him.

“If it’s not the booze, then where the hell is your head at, G? Because it’s not here, and it’s not on the damn fight, which is
all
you should be thinking about.” West shakes his bald head, but the anger in his voice is tinged with concern. “If you don’t win this fight, it’s more than just your rankings that are on the line. If you can’t pay him back, Grayson, then you know there’s going to be trouble.”

Grayson pushes on, ignoring the burning sensation in his quads as he sprints past West’s bike, channeling everything into the physical effort. He stops abruptly, leaning down and taking deep breaths in, trying to stop himself from vomiting from the exertion.

West pulls up beside him and lays a paternal hand on his shoulder. “I’m not trying to get your back up, kid. I just don’t want to see you ruin this for yourself, not when you’re so close.”

Grayson looks up at the man who has been more like a father to him than his own ever had, and he nods reassuringly. “I know, West. I’m going to get it done, don’t worry. Then, after this fight, Morrison will finally be off my back, for good.”

Just the thought of it was enough to make Grayson’s shoulders relax. Morrison had taken him out of the ring that fateful night and helped him make more money than he had ever seen before winning and throwing fights. But there was a price, there always was. As soon as West had discovered him in the underground ring and wanted to train him, for him to go legit, Morrison had gotten nervous. Grayson was his biggest moneymaker, and he wouldn’t let him go without a fight. Grayson was still trying to pay off the debt that Morrison had decided was a fair exchange for how much he’d “helped” Grayson. The money he earned from this next fight would be enough for his final payment, and then he would really be free.

“I don’t trust that motherfucker.” West’s voice is grim, and his expression is stern as he looks pensively out at the sea.

“You’re not the only one, my friend. But what other choice do we have?” Grayson claps West on the shoulder and heads over to the outdoor gym equipment on the beach before the conversation can go any further.

He doesn’t want to talk about Morrison, and all the emotions and memories that the name stirs up. As he pushes through the pain, doing one pull-up after another, unbidden a face comes into his head, the face that he couldn’t get off his mind all night. She is the real reason that he’d barely slept, tossing and turning until he’d figured it was pointless to even pretend that he was still sleeping. He wonders what she’s doing right now, wonders if she was glad to see him.

“What’s the matter, genius? You lose count?” West’s voice breaks through Grayson’s reverie.

He realizes that he’s dropped down from the bar and is just standing, staring out at nothing.
I really must be losing it
, he thinks. He forces the thought of Adriana out of his mind, focusing on the repetitive movements of the pull-ups, then push-ups, then crunches, then sprints and everything else West throws at him.

By the time they’re on their way back to Grayson’s house for a shower and a high-protein meal, the cafés and restaurants along the beach are starting to fill up with the brunch crew. The smell of scrambled eggs and toast reaches his nose, and he almost starts salivating. It had been a hard work out; he’d pushed himself even more than usual. It was the only way to get Adriana out of his mind.

“Grayson Fletcher!” The sound of his name being called makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around, shading his eyes from the sun, which is already blasting down. He almost crosses his fingers hoping against hope that it isn’t one of his one night stands looking for a re-match; he really isn’t in the mood to fight off the bimbo patrol today.

But instead of a silicon-pumped groupie, he sees a redhead waving at him from under an enormous hat and dark glasses that take up most of her face. He gets a wave of panic that she might indeed be someone he’s slept with, before she takes off the glasses and winks at him cheekily. He breathes an audible sigh of relief, recognizing her from the night before.

“Willow, right? Adriana’s friend.” Grayson takes a few steps towards her table, looking askance at West who throws him a knowing glare and waves him on.

“That’s right. How you doing? Take a load off.” She points towards an empty seat opposite hers.

“Thanks, but I’m kind of sweaty and gross, I wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite.” He throws her his lopsided charming smile, before the panic rises up in him again. “Is Adriana with you?” He wonders if he sounds as desperate to Willow as he does in his own head.

Willow gives him an appraising look from behind her dark glasses. “Would it be a good or a bad thing if she were?”

Grayson frowns at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m trying to figure you out, Grayson Fletcher. Your reputation precedes you. You’re the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, but the way you looked at Adrie last night tells a different story.” Willow lifts her glasses and pins him with a direct look. All traces of the charming PR girl are gone, replaced by a woman who means business. “You’ve hurt her once already, if you have any plans to do it again, then you should leave now.” She settles herself back into her seat and picks up her menu. “Now, what’s good here?”

Grayson looks at her with his mouth open. “You’re the one that called me over here, and now you’re warning me off Adriana? How does that make any sense?”

“Like I said, Fletcher, I’m trying to figure you out. Adriana is a very dear friend, and I’m working out if you deserve her.” Willow doesn’t even look up from the menu she’s perusing as she says the words.

“Deserve her? Did I miss something? We haven’t seen each other in close to ten years!” Grayson realizes that his voice is getting louder, but he can’t seem to contain his frustration.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Fletcher?” Willow asks the question in the same tone that she might use to order an orange juice.

“Oh my God, you’re early! What happened? Did the world as we know it turn upside down? It doesn’t matter; I don’t care; All I care about right now is breakfast, I’m starv—” The moment Adriana takes in Grayson standing in front of Willow is written plain across her face, and she literally stops dead in her tracks, blushing to the ends of her jet black hair.

ADRIANA

She pulls at the old denim shorts that she had thrown on, almost unconsciously, feeling dangerously underdressed around him. “Grayson.” She breathes his name out before she pulls herself together. “What are you doing here?” She tilts her head taking in his running shorts and top plastered to his sweaty body. He looks sexy and masculine, and she feels herself clench her thighs together automatically.

“Adriana.” There it was, that damn musical way that he said her name. “I was just out running. What a coincidence seeing each other again, right?” He shifts his weight from one foot to another like he’s uncomfortable.

Adriana wonders to herself why he keeps sticking around if it’s so unpleasant for him to be in her vicinity. “Yeah, what a coincidence.” She sneaks a look at Willow who is being uncharacteristically silent, burying her face deeper and deeper into the menu. “After all these years living in Florida and never seeing you, I’ve run into you two days in a row.” She wants to slap herself on the forehead for stating the obvious.

Grayson looks at her and then focuses on something just behind her left shoulder. His insistence in not looking at her is starting to make her wonder if he has a problem with his eyesight or if he thinks she was hideous. “I’m sorry I had to leave last night; I had an early start.” He gestures towards a man on a bike on the other side of the street.

“Is that your coach?” Adriana nods towards the bald man who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but under the burning morning sun. That head must burn like a furnace under this sunshine. He could probably use some shade.” She waves at the man, and he makes his way over hurriedly, standing underneath the restaurant’s canopy, grateful to be out of the sun. Poor guy, he had just been waiting for an invitation.

“Thanks, I was starting to wonder if Grayson here was going to wait until he could cook his morning eggs on my head.” He rubs his reddening bare head.

“We should try that some time!” Grayson smiles at his coach, and it’s the first genuine smile that Adriana has seen from him. It conjures up memories that she has to stamp hard on to keep at bay.

“I know the feeling, my pale friend. I fry like a chip in this godforsaken place.” Willow gestures to her enormous hat and glasses in explanation.

“Why do you live in Miami if you don’t like the sun?” Grayson frowns at her as if she were an unknown species.

“I didn’t say I don’t like the sun; it’s the sun that doesn’t like me so much. We’re not all blessed with Adriana’s genes.” She casts a rueful eye at the tanned legs poking out of Adriana’s shorts, leading Grayson’s gaze towards them. He stares at them for a beat and licks his lips, a sensual gesture that Adriana can feel in her very core.

He shakes himself out of wherever his mind had gone and snaps his attention back to his coach so quickly that Adriana wonders if she had imagined the whole thing. “West, this is Adriana and Willow. Adriana and I went to high school together.”

She reaches out her small hand to shake West’s large one. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“Sir, isn’t that what pretty young things call old men?” His eyes crinkle as he smiles jovially at her, and Adriana can’t help but smile right back. “Just call me West.”

“Alright, West.” Adriana beams brightly at him.

“Be careful who you bat those beautiful eyes at, Adriana, you’re likely to stop traffic.” West stares into her green eyes intensely, like they’re something he’s never seen before.

“Thank you.” Automatically, she looks down at her sneaker-clad feet, embarrassed at the compliment. When she looks back up, she notices that a shadow has passed across Grayson’s face, like he’s mad about something.

“You can let go of her hand now, West. She’ll probably be needing it back.” Grayson looks pointedly at the hand that West is still holding until his coach shrugs at Adriana and releases it.

Adriana tries to figure out what that was all about and sees that Willow is giving Grayson a similar look of curiosity.

“I guess we should get going.” His voice is gruff, as he motions towards West.

“Sure.” Adriana tries to ignore the feeling like she’s just been kicked in the stomach. “It was good to see you, Gray.” It’s the first time she has called him by his nickname, and she had said it more tenderly, more intimately than she had intended. But she couldn’t help it, it had reminded her of all those walks, of all the talks they had, the memory of his hand on her shoulder as he guided her home.

“You too, Adrie.” Her name is soft on his lips, and she feels her whole body warm at his words.

As he turns to go, West throws him a look that she can’t quite identify. “Ladies, it was a pleasure.” West nods to them both and fixes Adriana with a look. “Hope to see you again soon.”

As she watches Grayson start to walk away, she has to stop herself from taking a step towards him to say…Well, that was just it. What was she going to say? Even she didn’t know. All she knows is that thinking she might not see him again, that he might walk out of her life a second time, is more painful than she can put into words.

All these thoughts are circling around her mind, as Grayson comes to a stop and turns around to face her again. His brow is furrowed, like he’s frustrated or angry. She wonders if there’s ever a time when he doesn’t look like he’s conflicted about something. It’s that same look that he’d given her all those years ago, like he was fighting with himself about something.