Crazy Baby (15 page)

“Did I do that? Sorry. Not paying attention, I guess,” I say absently.

“Still thinking about Andi?” she asks, her smile fading.

“Yeah. I am. I apparently can’t just turn off my feelings like I thought I could.”

“Being alone makes it worse, Luke. You need to be around people, have a good time, enjoy the company of someone else,” she suggests.

“Maybe you’re right. My way definitely isn’t working.”

“So, does that mean you’ll consider spending time with me?” she asks sweetly.

“Sure,” I hear myself reply. I’m not sure where that came from, but I’m ready to get rid of this pain in my chest. One way or another, I will get over Andi Morgan.

“That makes me so happy, Luke!” she exclaims and wraps her arms around my neck.

My arms go around her waist as we hug each other, right here on the Strip in front of everyone. She pulls back slightly and places a soft kiss on my lips. I’m shocked at first and instantly feel guilty for cheating on Andi before I realize I’m not cheating on her. We split up, and I haven’t heard from her since.

When Syndi’s lips find mine again, I gently push her away. “We have to work together, Syndi. I’m not sure this is the best idea.”

It’s not the best idea at all. But part of me wants to take her back to my hotel room and fuck her until I forget about Andi. I’m beginning to think that’s the only way it’ll ever happen, and I’m not even convinced that’ll do it. Andi moved into a part of my heart that no one has ever occupied before. I seriously doubt anyone else ever will.

“Let’s go to my hotel and have some dinner,” I suggest and she readily agrees.

As we’re walking briskly through the lobby toward the restaurant, one of the desk clerks gets my attention.

“Mr. Woods, this package arrived for you today,” she calls out.

“Thank you,” I say as I take it from her. Tearing open the padded envelope as Syndi and I continue walking, I hold my hand out and dump the contents into it.

The heart pendant that was part of my Christmas present from Andi is the first item out of the package. My world stops when her engagement ring drops into my palm. Closing my fingers around the sentimental tokens, I bring my fist to my forehead. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to block the pain that shoots across my chest. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t even help in the least.

There’s only one thing I can get lost in now, and she’s standing right beside me. My head is screaming “
Fuck it”
while my heart is screaming “
Don’t do it
.” My head wins this battle.

Grabbing her hand, I pull her into the open elevator without asking, without telling, without even sparing her a glance. I’d never admit this aloud, but I’m afraid if I look at her, I’ll see Andi’s face instead. Angrily, I push the button for my floor before turning toward Syndi.

Pushing her against the wall without warning, I crush my mouth to hers and take full control of the kiss. As I forcefully brush my tongue against the part in her lips, her body instantly becomes pliable under my hands. Her lips part with a soft moan, and I slide my tongue inside her mouth. Her nails scrape along my scalp as she runs her fingers through my hair.

Moving my hands down, I cup her ass cheeks and press against her tighter. When we break the kiss, her eyes are hooded, her chest is heaving with increased respirations, and her lips are slightly swollen from our public display of affection.

“I think we need to take this somewhere a little more private right now,” she whispers seductively.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I growl as the elevator doors open. I take her hand and half drag her to my room.

“Hope you don’t have to be anywhere tonight,” I state matter-of-factly.

Her answering smile irks me. Andi would’ve put me in my place for saying that to her.

LUKE

April

The magazine cover with
him
as the sexiest man alive was bad enough, but the spread of pictures of
them
as a couple inside are enough to make me a homicidal maniac. Jealousy eats me alive inside to the point that some days I can barely function. I can’t get my mind off of Andi no matter what I do.

My relationship, for lack of a better word, with Syndi had been difficult to manage. The day I got Andi’s ring and necklace in the mail, I really lost my shit. As in off the fucking reservation lost it. When I got Syndi back to my room, the drive for revenge and the need to push Andi as far from my mind as possible resulted in a night of sex.

Followed by a month and a half of feeling guilt and regret over it.

The next day in the gym, Joe gave me the best directive I never thought I’d be glad to hear. My fight was one month away. To build up my testosterone, my frustration, and keep me solely focused on fighting, sex was totally off the menu.

Thank God for small favors.

I’ve been able to use this excuse to keep Syndi at bay. After that one and only night together, she became annoying and clingy. When Joe banned her from stepping foot into the gym, I had suspicions that he was on to me, but I never asked and he never volunteered the information. Fine by me—the less I know, the less I have to lie about it. If I ever find out for sure, I’ll have to buy him a nice thank-you gift. Like a new house.

“Luke,” Syndi whines my name. “How would Joe know if you had sex?”

We’ve only covered this every day since he laid down the law to me. “Men know, Syndi. For most men, including me, sex is a stress-reliever. It calms us and makes us all cuddly and shit. Going without sex is frustrating as hell. There’s no release, nowhere for all this testosterone to go, and it makes me mean and cranky.”

“Like now?” she quips.

“Exactly. Now stop asking me and reminding me of what I can’t have.”

“But I’d let you have me,” she purrs seductively.

“If you can’t support my goals, you’ll have to leave,” I snap.

To be fair, if Andi were here asking me for sex, I wouldn’t have the willpower to tell her no. Fight be damned. But sex with Andi always revved my engines up even more, made me crave her more, and made me more of a beast.

This train of thought makes me feel bad because I realize I’m constantly comparing Syndi to Andi, and Syndi loses this battle every time. I’ve tried to tell her multiple times over the past month that our one night together was a mistake and it won’t happen again.

When I say I tried, I mean, I bluntly told her. The problem is, she doesn’t give up. She won’t stop pursuing me regardless of how I explain it to her, what words I use, or how I say it was a mistake to start something I can’t finish. I’m not over Andi in the least bit. I lied to my heart the night I thought I could forget her by sleeping with Syndi.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly apologizes. “I know it must be hard for you.”

Just when I think her words are sincere, again I catch the glint in her eyes and the smirk on her face. Her last sentence was another pathetic attempt to entice me. This is one of those moments when I can see the wreck happening in slow motion, but I can’t do anything about it. The aftermath may be similar to an atom bomb exploding.

“That’s it!” I yell. “Get out of my room right now. I’ve had enough of your bullshit. I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried being blunt, and now I’m just going to be fucking mean.

“Our one night of fucking was a
mistake
. A huge one. I had no business starting anything with you, and on some level I think you know that. We both took advantage of it, but now that’s over. Even if I were allowed to have sex right this very second, it wouldn’t be with you.”

“Wow,” she says, her face registering her total shock at my words. “That no-sex rule really does make you cranky.”

There’s no way this girl is that fucking dense. No way. I walk off, shaking my head, and close the bedroom door behind me. Taking a step away from the door, I quickly move back and lock it immediately before she tries to open it.

“Time for you to leave, Syndi,” I call through the door. My anger and frustration are still seething through every pore of my body.

“Okay, get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning,” she calls back sweetly. Like I didn’t just tell her to fuck off and leave me alone.

Walking into the bathroom, I growl loudly and look for something to punch. There’s nothing here that I can take my frustrations out on. I have to let them fester, build up to epic proportions, and release them all at once while I’m in the ring. At this rate, I will utterly obliterate my opponent next month.

Pacing in one direction, stopping to jump up and down on the balls of my feet, then turning to pace in the opposite direction, I do this over and over to try to release this pent-up anger. When my phone rings, I nearly rip the denim off the front of my jeans as I snatch it out of my pocket.

“Woods,” I bark into the phone.

“Luke, this is John Lane. I work for Charlie Russell, and I’ve been assigned to you as your assistant until the fight is over,” the deep voice on the phone explains.

“What? Why would I need an assistant?” I ask, bewildered.

“For the next month, your schedule will be eating, sleeping, and drinking workouts. You won’t have the time or energy to handle your day-to-day responsibilities on your own. Trust me,” he chuckles.

“And what are your job responsibilities, exactly?”

“They’re extensive. I handle everything from making sure your laundry is done and paying your bills to being your nutritionist and making sure you’re eating healthy at every meal,” John explains. “I also keep unwanted guests from bothering you when you should be resting.”

“You must have talked to Joe,” I chuckle.

He laughs along with me. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”

“Sounds great. When do you start?” I ask.

“Tomorrow. You’ll move to a two-bedroom suite in the morning so I can monitor your health and needs continuously until the fight,” he explains.

“That seems a little overkill for an exhibition fight,” I challenge.

“It seems that Charlie and Artie think you’re ready for more than an exhibition fight. They’re convinced you can handle a real match, and they’re trying to convince Joe of it. I’ll be there to help assess the feasibility of it.”

“You have fight experience?” I ask.

“Yes, I used to be a fighter. My hand was badly injured in a fight and I had surgery. Adding insult to injury, the surgeon made a mistake that resulted in a permanent complication. No more punching with that hand,” he recites, as if he’s told the same story a million times.

“I’m sorry to hear that, man. I’m looking forward to working with you. Be good to have a bouncer around here,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Yeah, I hear you need one, Luke,” he laughs. “I’ll guard the door for you. Oh, and I’ll have to cancel any interviews, photo shoots, or anything else for the next month. I’d like to keep this time as a no press access period, as much as possible.”

“That sounds perfect, John. Hell, I’m ready for you to move in right now. I have a king-size bed. Plenty of room for you to sleep here tonight.”

This earns me a hearty laugh, and I can’t help but laugh with him. “I’ll have to pass on that, Luke. You’re a rumor magnet. Can’t have my
ladies’ man
image tarnished by your eager paparazzi.”

“Fair enough. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, John.”

“I’ll have you moved to your new suite before you get back from the gym in the morning. The bigger ones have better kitchens. Convenient since you’ll be eating in for the next month.”

“Sounds great. I may have to look in to keeping you around a lot longer than a month,” I laugh.

“If Charlie or Artie back you, that can be arranged. I work for them.”

Hanging up with John, I quickly shower and climb into bed. The last thought I remember having is of Andi. Like it is every other night before I fall asleep and every morning as soon as I wake. Since I’m up before my alarm sounds, I dress and decide to leave for the gym early.

When I walk in, Joe is talking to another guy who just arrived and showing him around the facility. Knowing it’ll be a while before I can get to him, I put my earphones in and hit the treadmill for my morning run. Glancing up to see where Joe is, my eyes land on the TV in his office. I really fucking hate that this treadmill is directly in line with it.

I can’t
not
look, I can’t tear my eyes away, and I can’t stand the image that’s become a permanent fixture ever since that magazine named him the sexiest man. The first picture is of him, lying back on a fuzzy white blanket, and obviously very barely clothed. The next picture, which is obviously a computer-generated rendition of a fake magazine cover, is one of Andi and Travis together. The banner across the front of the fake magazine reads
“World’s Sexiest Couple.”

When they put Andi and Travis’s faces together and make images of what their babies would look like, I jump off the treadmill and stalk toward the TV. A familiar voice stops me just before I get to it and rip it off the wall.

“Luke. Don’t be a dickhead to the TV. It didn’t do anything to you,” Brandon calls from behind me.

When I turn, he’s smirking knowingly at me. “You know me too well, bro.”

“That I do. That’s why I’m here. This has gone on long enough. It’s time to get your head screwed on straight.”

“You here to babysit me, big brother?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he grins. “I’m staying here with you until just after your fight. Then I’ll have to head back and work like the boring people have to do.”

Giving him a scrutinizing look, I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you really here?”

Brandon sighs, knowing that I know damn well he didn’t just show up on his own. “Mom’s worried about you and Andi. She’s afraid you’ll do something stupid and lose her forever. I’m supposed to mediate and get you two back together.”

Placing my hands on my hips, I draw in a deep breath and count to ten. It doesn’t work. “I appreciate the concern, and the confidence in me, but there’s nothing to work out with Andi. You just saw the pictures of her and Travis,” I say, pointing at the screen.

“I saw the media playing up their duets and what everyone wants to see happen. I saw an attempt to sell more of their music. What I haven’t seen, or heard, is Andi confirm any of this is true.”

“She hasn’t denied it either,” I spit out.

“Ah, but she has. Hasn’t she?” Brandon levels me with his prove-me-wrong look.

“Of course she denied it—
to me
.”

“Isn’t that what matters, Luke?”

Joe approaches as I’m staring at Brandon like a shocked idiot. He’s really defending her to me?

“Why aren’t you working out, kid?” Joe bellows.

“Joe, this is my brother, Brandon. He just flew in from Atlanta to spend the next month with me before the fight,” I dodge his question.

Joe and Brandon shake hands, and just before Joe can grill me again, I change the subject.

“Joe, I got a call last night from John Lane. He’s moving my stuff into a two-bedroom suite as we speak. Apparently Charlie and Artie are planning a different kind of fight for me next month. Know anything about that?”

“Those sons of bitches,” Joe growls. “I haven’t agreed to any of that yet. If they think they’re just moving in on you without my agreement, they can fucking think again.”

Joe snatches up his phone and quickly dials a number.

“Joe, it’s barely past five o’clock in the morning,” I point out.

“Charlie’s slept long enough,” Joe snarls. “Charlie. What the hell are you doing trying to take over my fighter?”

Joe points to the treadmill, and I walk back to finish my cardio workout. Brandon heads to the hotel to check in and take a long nap while I work my ass off. It’s really good to have him here. I already feel better knowing he’s here and he has my back—whether I’m right or wrong. He’ll tell me, he’ll help me, and he’ll be fair about it.

For all the sibling rivalry we’ve had in our lives, he’s proven where his loyalties lie.

With Andi.

Fine. He’s always done what’s best for me, even if I’ve always questioned his motives. Time to man up and admit the truth. After I show him the photos, if he still thinks Andi’s innocent, I’ll have to seriously reconsider my assumptions. If he agrees with me, I’ll know I made the right choice, and I’ll leave her behind me for good.

After my workout is finally over, I head back to the hotel and find my new suite is already in order. Brandon’s crashed on the couch, and the man I assume to be John is in the kitchen when I walk in. He’s definitely a former boxer and he still keeps himself in shape. Another heavyweight, he still has that killer countenance about him. He’s tall and muscular with short blond hair. 

Approaching him, I extend my hand. “Luke Woods.”