Pas de Deux: Part Two (A Cross and Pointe Novel Book 2) (11 page)

This time, Cillian did look up. He met Carl's eyes steadily. “Roger that. And trust me, I'm gonna do what I have to do to win.”

The unintentionally ominous tone in his voice seemed to echo over and over in the small room, and Carl cleared his throat, breaking the eye contact.

“Well, good to hear, Killy. You're gonna do great.” He glanced down at his watch. “Hey, I'm late for another appointment. See ya in a couple days, lemme know if you need anything.”

Cillian watched him practically run out of the office, a pure desire to win pounding through his body. Losing was simply not an option, especially now that he knew what Carl was up to.

The desire to win ebbed for a fleeting moment, and the pressure to succeed weighed down on his shoulders like a seventy-pound rucksack.

On Friday morning, Cillian pulled up to Sammi's apartment complex, hopping out of the truck to buzz the secure-entry door. A strange cocktail of emotion buzzed through his veins as he waited for her to unlock the door—nervousness, anxiety, anticipation, determination, and a healthy dose of fear.

This weekend, one way or another, was going to change his life.

The electronic lock on the door popped, and he pulled it open, taking the steps to her apartment three at a time. Adrenaline made him fly up the stairs in seconds, barely feeling the strain.

Amazing, since I didn't sleep a fuckin' wink last night...

Sammi was waiting for him, framed in the open doorway. The sight of her face and sweet, welcoming smile instantly helped put him at ease—and he realized how much he'd missed her. They hadn't seen each other since Sunday, though they'd spoken every day, as he'd been going into overdrive with final tournament preparations and she'd been pulling double-duty at the café to cover for Jazz, who was out sick with the flu.

Wordlessly, he reached out and pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her neck. Her body tensed with surprise, but her arms went around him, pulling him close.

“Are you all right?” Her quiet voice flowed into his ear as her lips brushed his lobe. Her arms tightened around him.

Cillian nodded, unwilling to let her go just yet. “Feels like I haven't seen you in a year.”

She chuckled, pressing her lips to his temple. “I know. But you're here now, and you get me for a whole weekend.”

“Sure do.”

“You sure you're all right?”

He sighed, finally releasing her and stepping back. He checked her out—she looked good in a casual dark gray tee, tight jeans rolled at the ankle, and sleek ankle boots. “You look great.”

“Thanks...” Sammi's brow furrowed as she studied him, worry reflecting out of her warm brown eyes.

He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear. She was never one to press, but his sidestepping of her question hadn't gone unnoticed.

“I'm all right. You all packed and ready to go?” He nodded toward a black duffel bag and an overstuffed tote at her feet.

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't push. “Yep. All set.”

Cillian shouldered her bags and she followed him downstairs to the truck. When he climbed behind the wheel, she pointed at one of the two steaming cups in the cup holders between their seats.

“Is that for me?”

“For you.” He started the engine and pulled off. “So who's takin' care of Rocky, since your family is coming to New York on Monday?”

“Mom's gonna come by and feed him every day until Monday, then she's gonna load him up with food right before they leave. He'll be okay for a day by himself.” Sammi leaned her head back against the headrest of her seat and grinned at him. “Why, you worried about him?”

Cillian shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Nah. Just wanted to make sure you'd have your little buddy to come home to, that's all.”

She laughed and sipped her drink. “Sure. It's okay, Cillian. You love him.”

“Yeah, right.” He tried to frown, but was unable to keep a smirk off his face. He made it to the Pike in due time and settled in for the three-hour drive to Albany.

“You work on your dance at all this week?”

“Not as much as I wanted to, but it's okay, I'm just perfecting it at this point.” She stretched in her seat. Cillian kept his eyes on the road but sensed from his peripheral vision that she was staring at him.

“You seem so focused,” she said. “You feelin' pretty good about this weekend? Nervous?”

“Little.” He shrugged. “Just wanna get it over with. Got a lot ridin' on this.”

“What do you mean?”

Cillian sighed. He'd never told Sammi the truth about what he'd discovered about Carl's plans for the gym, starting with the email he'd discovered in March.

“Carl's plannin' to close the gym.”

“What?” Sammi gasped. “How do you know that? He told you that?”

“I found an email in March from this company we ordered a shitload of equipment from. We had plans to expand the place, renovated that lot next door and everything. But the equipment never came. I sent the company an email to follow up and they told me Carl cancelled the order—said he told them as of June, it was no longer gonna be a gym.”

“Holy shit...”

Cillian gripped the wheel, glaring out the windshield. “I knew somethin' was up when I checked out the new place and noticed the wall between our place and the old lot was still up—and the walls had been painted. You'd think they woulda knocked the wall down first before installing the new floors and painting the walls.”

“What's he want to turn it into?”

“Heard him on the phone a couple days ago talkin' to someone, a contractor maybe. Kept referring to a 'club'. Guess he wants to throw a big grand-opening party over the Fourth of July. Buys me a little time, 'cause I guess the place was supposed to be done by mid-June.”

“You
cannot
let him get away with this.”

Sammi sounded so angry, Cillian glanced over at her. He couldn't help a little smile from tugging up one side of his mouth; her small fists were clenched, her brown eyes fiery.

“That's why I said I got a lot ridin' on this weekend. Grand prize winner gets the mil. First runner up gets a hundred large, second runner up gets fifty. It'll cost me fifty grand to buy out Carl's half.”

Sammi looked confused. “How do you have runners-up in a tournament like this?”

“Last three men standing get the money. It's usually winner-take-all, but the guy puttin' this thing on is independently wealthy and wants to spread the money around. More money, more fighters. More publicity for him.”

“You can't lose the gym—your family, your father, will be devastated.”

Cillian's jaw clenched. “I know.”

“You're gonna win.” Sammi nodded. “I have a good feeling about it.”

Cillian glanced over and smiled, but he was ready for a change of subject.

“Thanks. Enough about all that—it'll be what it will. How are
you
feeling about the trial?”

Sammi's face fell and she shrugged. “Been tryin' not to think about it. It gives me anxiety.”

Cillian took her hand. “You're gonna be fine.”

“I guess I'm like you—just want it to be over.”

“It will be, before you know it. You're gonna have your whole family there. And me. And we're not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Sammi said nothing, but squeezed his hand tightly.

He squeezed back. It wasn't lost on him how much they needed each other right now.

Fuck the gym, what she's dealing with is way more important. She said it's giving her anxiety...

“You still taking your meds?” Cillian shook his head. “Sorry if that was random. I was just...thinkin' about things.”

“No, I'm not taking them anymore, even though sometimes I want to. Like now.”

“What made you stop?”

“I just don't want to be hooked on pills.” She cleared her throat and glanced out the window. “And...you helped a lot with it.

He raised his brows in surprise. “How?”

“It's just—I feel
different
. Happier, when I'm with you. I feel like I can look people in the eye again, that I don't have to be scared that something horrible is going to happen to me every time I leave my house. You've made me comfortable with being me and...living.” She glanced at him. “I trust you. It's nice to feel like I can trust again.”

“I'm glad. I trust you, too.”

He played with her fingers for a moment, eyes on the road. “So, what is this? You and me. What are we doin' here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, us. Are we...together? Are we friends?”

“What do you want?”

“I asked you first. Just tell me. You wanna be with me?” He kept his eyes forward, holding his breath.

There was a long silence, long enough to worry him, and he glanced over at her. One of her hands cupped her forehead.

“What?” he asked softly. “Answer my question, Sam.”

“I don't...I don't know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“
This
.” She gestured between the two of them. “I haven't had a...boyfriend in a long time. I'm out of practice. I don't want things to get weird between us.”

“We're not kids, and I ain't into playing games. Look, I haven't had a girlfriend in forever, either. All I know is you're the only girl I wanna be with.” He shrugged. “That's it.”

She sighed, her hand tightening around his. “...Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I want to be with you.”

This time, Sammi was smiling when he glanced over at her. She shrugged sheepishly.

“So, now what?”

“Now, nothin'. We just live our lives and keep makin' each other happy. Except you get to officially boss me around now.”

“I always boss you around,” she retorted.

“Right, but now I'm obligated to actually listen,” he shot back. He smiled over at her again, then tugged her closer for a kiss. A sense of peace washed over him, crowding out the fear, the uncertainty.

Things might be okay.

Sammi's eyes widened as she followed Cillian into the lobby of the Hilton.

Already there were crowds of people gathered, holding signs, cameras, pictures. Cillian pointed out a couple of fighters he recognized to her as they signed autographs for enthusiastic fans. The fans were a mixture of all kinds of people of varying races and ages. There were middle-aged men wearing tournament T-shirts, teenage boys. Even entire families. There were also women.

Sammi tallied them with her eyes as she passed.
Lots and lots of women.

A small crowd of five or six in their mid-twenties caught her eye. They were beautiful, made up like stars, dressed in fabulous, trendy clothing. In between taking selfies, they posed for pictures with the fighters, flirted with them. Sammi saw a couple of them exchange numbers.

“Are they models or something?” Sammi asked.

Cillian glanced over at them. “I don't think so. I think they're just fans.”

As she and Cillian walked past them, Sammi could feel the heat of the girls' stares on her, and glanced their way. They were blatantly checking out Cillian and shooting curious looks at Sammi.

“Is that his chick?”

“I hope not.”

“Maybe just his fuck-buddy for the weekend.”

Heat instantly flushed her cheeks as she glared at them.
Do they think I'm a groupie or something?

Cillian ignored them completely, shouldering her duffel as well as his own, and walked straight to the check-in counter. He set the bags down and glanced at her.

“Ignore them,” he instructed her quietly. “Okay?”

She hadn't realized he'd overheard them whispering about her, and shrugged. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Mr. Ronan, I have one suite and two deluxe rooms,” the desk clerk said, clacking away at his keyboard. “The reservations were arranged by Mr. Carl Wilhelm—I trust that your accommodations will be satisfactory, but please don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything you need.”

“How close are the rooms?”

“The suite and the deluxe rooms are on the sixth floor, at the end of the hall.” The clerk slid them their keys and smiled. “I can have someone bring your bags to your rooms, if you'd like to go refresh yourselves at the bar.”

“No, we've got it, thanks.”