Page 45 of Crazy In Love (Love & War #2)
CHRIS
It takes another seven days before Cliff returns to the gym. Seven whole fucking days, like he knew he had a target on his back and a day of reckoning, just waiting for him.
But he doesn’t know.
He can’t know.
Because Fox decided the things we do behind closed doors will stay behind closed doors.
“The fuck, Coach?” Cliff stumbles back a half-dozen steps, dazed and spitting blood onto the canvas by my feet. “You on the juice this week, or what?”
“Keep it clean,” Tommy grumbles from outside the boxing ring. He stares at the side of my face, waiting for me to look. But dammit, I won’t. I refuse. “Keep it legal.”
“What’d I do wrong?”
Rage makes me a sloppy fighter. The fear of losing access to Fox makes me a shitty grappler. Yet, I charge forward anyway, arms wide and fury my constant companion, only for him to skid out of my way, so I slam against the ropes.
“Coach! The fuck?”
“He’s just working through some stuff,” Tommy teases. “You either fight, or you step off the canvas. Because he’s not all that reasonable right now.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I turn and bounce on the balls of my feet, dragging my hands up to protect my face. And because Cliff is a pussycat, I stalk forward and force him to engage. “Tommy’s not coaching at this point. He’s spectating. Focus on me, Cliff.”
“I am focusin’ on you!” He skips left, running from my advance. “But I’m not entirely sure why it feels like I disrespected your momma or something. One: you don’t even like your mom! And two: I didn’t say shit about her.”
“It’s about Fox Tatum,” Tommy sighs.
Her name on his tongue is like fire in my veins. Like an elastic band snapping. I swing my gaze across to him and snarl.
“What?” He throws his hand up. “You’re not gonna say it, so I will.”
“Fox?” Cliff is a wily fucker; he uses my distraction and lands a left jab against my jaw that has stars bursting in the corners of my vision. “I told her I was heading out of town for a few days. She said it was cool if I finished the bathroom once I got back.”
Tommy snickers. “This ain’t about the bathroom, dude. This is about so much more.”
“What more?” He ducks and runs, escaping my roundhouse kick by the skin of his teeth. “Dude! What more? I didn’t do anything!”
“You’re interested in her?” My lungs long ago stopped working properly, and my brain…
well, shit, I think I left that at Tommy and Alana’s kitchen table.
But muscle memory, at least, is something I can count on.
I rush Cliff against the ropes and throw him to the ground, the floor rumbling under the weight of our combined four hundred pounds, and because I can, I scramble over his back and wrap my arm around his neck.
“This is a stand-up fight!” Tommy growls. “Chris! We’re not grappling.”
“Fuck we aren’t.” I crush Cliff’s larynx and murmur by his ear. “You like Fox Tatum?”
“I mean…” He taps my arm—which should be the end of the fight. But alas… “Yeah. She’s cute, right? And she’s nice as hell. What’s not to like?”
I slam my free fist against the side of his face. I’m a bastard, I know. “Wrong answer, son. You like Fox Tatum?”
“Christian!” Tommy rattles the ropes. “He tapped!”
“I thought I liked her!” Cliff’s voice crackles under the pressure of my arm. “Guess not?”
“You guess?” I hit him again. “You sure about that?”
“I know!” He tries to slide his fingers between my arm and his neck. Anything to break my hold. “Dude!” Panicking, he kicks his legs out. “I know! She’s a monster. She’s horrible. Didn’t you hear? ”
“Chris!” Tommy climbs into the ring and presses the bottom of his foot to the side of my face, pinning me to the canvas. “Let him go.”
“Let me go!” Cliff snarls. “Fuck!”
“You’re not interested.” I release him and flop to my back, dropping my arms wide and splaying my legs open. All so I can lay here and rot in my own sweat. “Not interested.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Coach.” Cliff rolls to the other side of the ring, heaving for air and massaging the front of his neck. “Was that attempted murder?” He swings desperate eyes up to Tommy. “That was attempted murder!”
“Nah,” Tommy growls, “just an idiot, completely incapable of regulating his emotions or speaking like a fucking adult.” He stands over me, his lips peeled back in a sneer. “You could catch charges for that shit, you know that?”
“It was a fair fight.” I drag my hands through my hair and use the heels of my palms to crush my eyes. “We were sparring.”
“It’s not a fair fight if your opponent hasn’t consented to ground and pound, dickhead. You were supposed to be boxing. Legs are for standing, not for kicking.”
“I’m not actually gonna snitch.” Cliff spits again, so the splash hitting the canvas becomes my punishment. My brain, attaching itself to that one, filthy noise. “Physically, I’m fine. Kinda got my feelings hurt, though.”
I lower my hands and glance across to find him sitting in the corner, his back pressed to the post and his elbow perched on one raised knee.
“You have a problem with me, Coach? I expect you to be man enough to say so to my face. You wanna kill me and call it sport? That’s cool, too. But give me a head’s up, so I can pull out the razor blades and hurt you, too.”
“You’ve been stewing on this for a fuckin’ week.
” Tommy lowers into a crouch, shaking his head from side to side.
“You and Fox are nothing. You say you aren’t interested.
You act like she’s your mortal fucking enemy every time you’re in the same room.
But at the mere mention of Alana setting Cliff and Fox up on a date, you’re out here ready to sit behind prison bars? ”
“That’s what this is about?” Cliff exclaims. “Alana said she was gonna set me and Fox up? Wait.” His eyes brighten, and his lips curl into a smug smile. “Fox is interested in me?”
“You mother?—”
“Dude!” Tommy grips my shoulder and pins me to the floor. Then he shoots a dangerous glare in Cliff’s direction. “Use your brain! I’m trying to save your life here.”
“That was my bad. My bad.” Laughing, he climbs to his feet, stumbling and swaying, and when he has no other choice, he grabs the ropes and waits for the world to stop spinning. “I’ve been outta town, Coach, so forgive me for taking a fuckin’ second to realize you and Fox are an item.”
“We’re not an item!”
Tommy drops to his ass. “They’re not an item. Allegedly.”
“Oh…” Cliff frowns. Then, “Ohhhh! Alright. This is one of those opposite-day things. You and Fox are not an item, but when you hear about Fox and me maybe becoming an item, suddenly your brain snaps and homicide becomes your fun new hobby.”
“Pretty sure they’re together in secret,” Tommy scowls. “And they’re taking advantage of Alana’s exhaustion to hide it from her. But I see it.” He brings his glaring stare down to me. “I see you.”
“You said it would be a good idea for Alana to set them up!”
“Aw, you did, Boss?” Cliff swaggers closer and offers a fist for bumping. He waits… waits… waits some more. “No?” He puts it away again. “Well, I appreciate your vote of confidence, anyway.”
“Either own this mess, or don’t,” Tommy snaps. “You want her or you don’t. You don’t even have to tell Alana—in fact,” he adds viciously, “I forbid you from telling Alana. But for the love of God, figure this shit out soon so you and Fox know where you stand.”
“We stand nowhere! We aren’t together.”
“So that makes her a free agent, then?” Cliff takes a long step back. “Hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically,” Tommy continues, “ someone’s about to get their heart broken.
Because my baby brother beds a broad, then hand delivers her with a pat on the rump and a good luck when, later, she’s getting hitched and invited him to the wedding.
You spend time with a woman, and then you move on.
You have entire, respectful conversations with her and her new beau when you cross paths on Main Street, easily done because feelings were never involved.
But now Fox is in town, and you’re ready to destroy a friend when he didn’t even ask her out yet! ? What the fuck is that?”
“I was in a fight all week, and I didn’t even know it?” Cliff whistles. “ Jaysus , Coach. I swear, I felt my ears burning while I was away. But I never would’ve guessed why .”
“You told me you weren’t interested.” Tommy grabs my face and forces me to meet his eyes.
“I asked you point blank, asshole, and you told me you had absolutely no interest. Not only that, but you said how she’s a pain in your ass, a high-maintenance broad, and you’re basically counting down the minutes till she goes back to New York. You lied to me.”
“I am counting down!” I slap his hand away and sit up, resting my elbows on my knees and letting my head dangle between my shoulders.
“I’m counting every fucking second, knowing June fourteenth will get here before I’m ready.
I’m counting down, knowing that when she leaves, she’ll go without so much as a backward glance. ”
His eyes soften. Worse, his breath comes out with a sigh that tells me everything I need to know.
Sympathy. Sorrow. All the same shit he felt for me for the first eighteen years of our lives.
“You went and fell in love, didn’t you?” He shakes his head in my peripherals, figuring out what I already know.
Fuck. “Whatever arrangement you have, whatever it is she wants, you agreed to keep it on the down low. Now you’ve tossed your heart in the ring, and your temper rides on every other decision you make because you’re terrified that someone else is gonna slide in and take her. Does she not feel the same way?”
“Does she love me, too?” I choke out an aching, almost delirious laugh. “Nah. She’s untouchable. She’s in it for fun and for something to do in the dark. She’s counting down the seconds until she gets on that plane and flies back to New York, too, but for entirely different reasons than I am.”
Cliff grunts, resting his chin on his chest in commiseration.