Scottish Romance: Highlander Romance: Highland Whisper (Scotland Romance) (14 page)

She could agree that mixed martial arts was a good way to release aggression, assuming that it wasn’t the cause of the aggression—as was the case with Heather frequently.  But she wondered if that was all he saw in people, or thought he saw in people.  Did he truly think that everyone was simply aggressive inside? Or was that the interviewer twisting his words. 

Nevertheless, he had won a big championship last night.  Heather was almost surprised to see him in the gym. 

“Congrats,” she called out.  They were all of five people in the gym.  She didn’t feel weird speaking out to him.

He looked at her and she thought she saw the faintest traces of a smile on his lips.  “Thanks,” he said gruffly.  He studied her for a minute, as if trying to see if he remembered her from somewhere.  No recognition sparked on his face.  Heather sighed.  She should not expect anything more from the state champion.  He would surely go onto the next competition soon.  That was probably why he was back in the gym today.

Cam turned away first, going back to limbering up.  Heather aimed a couple more punches at the punching bag and then went over to work on keeping her core built up. 

She found herself upset that Cam hadn’t really noticed or recognized her.  The logical part of her brain reminded her that he probably saw loads of people in any given day and probably only remembered the names of his immediate family, close friends, and handlers if they stuck around long enough.  He probably also had had too many concussions over his career.  Heather knew she had sustained a few.

But the less rational part of her brain wished that he would notice her.  It might provide some sort of consolation for staying put in this life path.  More than being in the one element where she wasn’t clumsy.  More than having a career that didn’t have her sitting sedentary at a desk for eight or more hours a day. 

Then, because it was in her nature, she rammed her foot into a piece of large equipment.  Her gym shoe only caused her foot to bounce back, and thankfully there wasn’t any pain.  It would have been worse to run her shin into something. 

She hoisted herself up onto the equipment to do some leg lifts.  Those would be followed by sit-ups, then extensions, then trunk-twists, then a five-minute plank.  Or more if she could manage it.  It was important to have a strong core.

But were the abs worth it? Was beating people up worth it? Were they worth the concussions?

Was quitting worth the argument she would have with her father?

Those were the thoughts that plagued Heather as she worked out.  When she finished up, she went home to shower.  The gym was re-caulking the showers in the girl’s bathroom, which meant there were less operable showers at the moment.  Not that it mattered, Heather didn’t mind driving home sweaty, just so long as she got to shower right when she got home. 

She told herself she would sit and do nothing else besides play video games and eat at the requisite times for the rest of the day.  Anything to get her mind off of fighting. 

She had a regional meet coming up that she really didn’t want to be thinking about. 

Cameron received the expected amount of flak from his comment the previous night.  He got labeled as someone who assumed everyone was aggressive and there were numerous articles labeling him as cold and unfeeling behind his already brutal exterior.

Cameron wasn’t sure where to begin to correct the misplaced assumptions, if he would bother to correct anything at all.  His true fans would not leave him.  And everyone else would stay away.  Cameron wasn’t out to make enemies. 

“Cameron!”

Cameron turned to see the owner of the voice.  It was another MMA fighter, Brenton.  He was known as Brawler in the ring. 

“What’s up, man?” Cameron asked.

“What’s this you talking about everyone being aggressive all the time?” Brenton asked.  “I pride myself on being a loving and caring individual and here you are saying that all of us are just aggressive people who fight because of that.”

“That wasn’t what I meant…” Cameron mumbled.  What he wanted to continue with was that he meant that martial arts, or other forms of sport fighting were a good way to let out aggression, but there were of course other ways to do it.  But he wasn’t sure how he could articulate that in a way that would not further entice Brenton’s anger. 

Maybe he didn’t mean that people were aggressive at all.  Or that not all people were aggressive.  He frowned, not even knowing what he meant about it anymore.

“I don’t even care what you meant anymore,” Brenton said.  “The damage is already done thanks to you.  Now I have an image to repair.  You best be glad I’m a weight class above you otherwise you’d hear my aggression being let out loudly as I beat up your face.”

Cameron’s eyes darkened.  That was bully talk.  But going up against Brenton wasn’t a smart idea given how much Brenton outweighed Cameron.  It would just be another case of big guy picking on the little guy. 

There had to be a better way to deal with him.

Brenton wrinkled up his nose at Cameron, spat on the ground, and then went to go work out on his own.  Cameron kept his distance.

Maybe he needed to find a new way of fighting the bullies.  Or, in the very least, find an additional way to fight them.  Cameron might be proving Brenton’s point if he took out his anger at Brenton at some other dude in his own weight class. 

Cameron finished his workout and then called his manager on the way home.  He described what had gone on with Brenton, and asked if there was anything he could do to fix what he’d said earlier and make the media quiet down about the whole thing.

“Maybe you should pick up a calm hobby,” his manager said.  “Like cooking or playing a musical instrument.  Something to show that you have a nice side.  You could always go the community service route—the press loves that.  Go plant trees or pick up trash on the beach or something.  Heck, getting a girlfriend would probably help.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow at the last suggestion, even though his manager was unable to see it.  Cameron didn’t see how getting a girlfriend would help.  Planting trees would surely be easier.

“Thanks, man,” Cameron said.  “I’ll try one of those.”

Four hours into playing, Heather was two levels higher and had cleared three areas.  She had completed two separate side-quests and was contemplating the idea of a relaxing bath. 

She wanted to clear her mind.  While the video game was effective in keeping her distracted and allowing her time to decompress, she needed to completely clear it.

Because, at some point, during the day, she had become attached to the idea that she needed Cam the Crusher to notice her.  Because if he would just notice her, maybe she would have something going for her in MMA.  She needed a better reason to stick with the sport and this just may be it. 

Except, at the same time, the whole idea seemed rather pointless.  If she wanted to quit so badly, she should just quit.  She could get a job waiting tables until she figured it out.  She shouldn’t need a man’s approval to keep doing anything, whether it be her father’s approval or Cam the Crusher’s.

But there was something about Cam that intrigued her.  Something in that mind of his that she wanted to unlock, to understand.  She wanted to know what was underneath that aggressive exterior of his.

Because if he could put on such an aggressive act and fight all the time, embodying everything that Heather hated about what she was currently doing in MMA, if he could do that and be only that, then there was no point for Heather to stay in the sport.  But if she could uncover something else underneath, then perhaps she could find the hope to continue on with the sport.

It was decided then.  She needed to get Cam to notice her. 

That settled, she went to go take a bath, stubbing her toe on a bookshelf on her way there. 

It took Heather a couple of days to work up courage to go up and talk to Cam.  They were working out at similar times at the moment, so it made things slightly easier.  He came in about halfway through her workout.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t really anything Heather could do in the gym that would be so extraordinary as to draw Cam’s attention.

So she would have to talk to him. 

After reconsidering many times, Heather finally made it over to Cam.  She didn’t pride herself on being able to talk to people well, so she hoped this didn’t backfire. 

“Hey, Cam,” she began, walking up to him where he was lifting weights.

“Hmm?” he asked.

“Do you do anything besides your training for fights?” she asked.

Cam put the weight he was holding down to give Heather his full attention.  He had the same look on his face that he had had the other day—confusion as to why she might be talking to him and trying to recognize any reason why he might know her face.  Heather did her best to not look disheartened. 

“Are you saying I’m in here too much?” Cam asked.

Heather frowned.  That wasn’t what she meant at all with her question.  “No,” she said.  “What I’m trying to ask is if you have any hobbies.”

Understanding washed over Cam’s face.  He stood up straighter.  “Well,” he said.  “I’m trying to take up cooking.  My manager says I should take up some sort of community service like picking up trash, but I haven’t done that yet.”

What Heather processed out of that was that he didn’t have very many hobbies.  He didn’t do much else than fight.  She had been afraid of that.

Perhaps she should try and get him into a hobby.  Just because he didn’t have a good one yet, didn’t mean he was incapable of having one. 

“Do you play any video games?” she asked, on a thin stretch of hope.

Cam shook his head.  “The fighting ones are never realistic.”

Heather resisted the urge to smack herself in the forehead.  Was that really his excuse for not playing video games?

“There are other video games besides fighting ones,” Heather said.  “Racing games, RPGs, first-person shooters, and plenty others…”

Cam shrugged.  “Look, I’m not interested.  I need to pick up a hobby that’s constructive or whatever—something that’s good for my image.  I don’t think video games fits that bill.”

Heather frowned.  “Does this have anything to do with your comment after the tournament last week?”

Cam flushed.  “Maybe a little.”

“So all you’re really into is the fight? You don’t have a life outside of it?” Heather asked.

“I didn’t think I needed one, if I’m being honest,” Cam said.  “When you look and fight like I do, I would have thought I had it made.  But then some reporter goes and messes it up.  I hate the paparazzi.”

Heather shrugged.  She wasn’t a good enough fighter to have to worry too much about the publicity. 

“Well, good luck with cooking,” Heather said with a sigh.  She was about ready to turn on her heel and leave when Cam stopped her.

“Do you have a life outside of the fight?” he asked.

The words seemed too profound coming from him.  They hinted at something beyond his rough exterior. 

“I wish I did,” Heather said, turning to look away from Cam again.  “I’m just trying to find it.”

She walked away after that, no longer wanting to continue the conversation.

After the girl left (Cameron wished he had gotten her name, or remembered it, but he didn’t), he started to think about what she might have meant by everything she had gone on about.  It almost sounded like she was trying to start a friendship, asking about hobbies and stuff.  But at the same time, there was some element of dislike that she had had about her that Cameron had no idea where it came from.  What was she getting at?

Cameron thought hard about the girl, trying to remember anything he might know about her.  She was another MMA fighter, though, he couldn’t remember if she was good or not.  The women didn’t fight like the men did, so it was honestly hard for Cameron to tell either way.  He knew nothing else about her.  He knew that she came to the gym, trained, and then left.

Maybe he should get to know her.  There was a small part of him that was slightly interested in playing some video games.  He hadn’t lied though when he had said that the fighting games were not accurate. They fit no particular fighting style and were mostly all about something too far from reality.

Cameron still wasn’t sure if playing video games would help repair the image he had shattered.  But maybe playing RTPs—or whatever she had called them—would be fun.  Cameron wasn’t sure how to go about getting any of them though.  He had the money, but did he not also need to buy something with which to play the game? He could do that too, he supposed.  It was his money, he could do what he liked with it.  But there were so many video games out there.  He had literally no idea where to start.  As someone who never played video games much as a kid, Cameron was clueless.

But something else that his manager had talked about was stuck in his mind.  His manager had suggested that maybe getting a girlfriend would help his image.  Cameron knew that getting a girlfriend was harder than just deciding that some girl was going to be his girlfriend.  Cameron didn’t know anything about the girl.  He didn’t even know her name.  But he saw her on a more regular basis than he saw any other girl. 

Fantasies of suggesting that he was going to play video games with her and her instantly falling for him and all of his troubles disappearing flitted across Cameron’s brain.  But he knew it didn’t work like that. 

But, he supposed he could say that he had changed his mind about his interest in video games.  At the very least, Heather might point him in the right direction. 

He wished he was better at cooking.  That would solve multiple problems.

Why did planting a tree and having people notice him have to be so difficult?

Heather stumbled and nearly fell flat on her face the next day when she walked into the gym.  She swore internally and kicked the step she had tripped on for good measure.  She knew that step was there.  Sometimes she just misjudged it. 

She went over to the mats to stretch and limber up before she started working out and training.  A text from her father reminded her that she had a meet next weekend and she needed to be prepared.  She was going to a practice fight the following night and the night after.  And the night after that.  There wasn’t much more she could do.

Her goal once she was there would be to try and find the good in people.  Find the reasons to stay in this sport.  Find what lay beyond all the fighting and competing.  Heather wanted to find that reason.  Just because Cam had been a failure, didn’t mean everyone else was. 

Heather limbered up and went over to the punching bag to get her daily striking requirement in.  She was thirty or forty punches in when none other than Cam approached her.

“Um, hello,” he said.  He looked awkward.  Heather didn’t hold it against him.

“Hello,” she said.  “Can I help you with something?”

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Cam said.  “Do you think you could maybe show me some video games? I guess I am sort of interested after I thought about it a little.”

Heather’s hands dropped to her sides as her surprise grew.  That wasn’t what she had been expecting.  She smiled to herself a little bit.  Maybe he wasn’t so bad.  Or maybe he was trying.  It was something.

“Sure,” Heather said.  “I have some free time this afternoon.  Do you want me to, like, go to the store with you or something? Do you want me to just give me titles of ones I like? There’s a number of ways we could go about doing this.”

Heather had to curb herself before she went much farther.  She didn’t want to scare Cam away too early.  If he was making an effort, she had to not stomp all over that before they got anywhere. 

“Actually,” Cam said.  “I was kind of hoping that maybe you would let me come over and try out some of the ones you already had? Or maybe you could bring them over to my place? I wish there was some public place that we could do this so you wouldn’t think I’m being a creeper.  But even I know that they closed down the arcade in the mall.”

Heather nodded in agreement.  She had been saddened when that arcade had closed down.  She had tried to get ahold of a couple of the consoles, but was unsuccessful in her attempts.

“I suppose you could come over to my place this afternoon,” Heather said.  Cam admitting that he didn’t want to be a creeper about the whole thing somehow made it a lot less creepy.  Even still, Heather was confident she could take on Cam if something went wrong.  Sure, he outweighed her, but she knew of ways to get out of such situations if something went bad.  Worst case she could wriggle herself out of the situation and call the cops if it got that bad.

But the odds of it getting that bad were really slim. 

“I could show you a few types of video games,” she continued.  “If that’s what you want.”

Cam nodded.  It was pretty enthusiastic nodding if Heather thought about it.  She wondered what had changed about him and his disinterested attitude the day before.  No matter.  He was interested now, and that was what mattered.

Heather went up to the front desk of the gym and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.  She wrote down her address and gave the piece of paper to Cam. 

“This is my address.  Come over at any point after two, okay?”

Cam looked the address over, then he looked back up at Heather.  “Sure.  Also, can I get your name? You might have told me, but I’ve forgotten it.  Sometimes my memory’s not that great.”

Heather found herself laughing.  Not mean laughter, just nervous understanding laughter.  “My name’s Heather.”

“Cameron.”

“I knew that,” Heather said.

He had introduced himself as ‘Cameron’ though, not ‘Cam.’  That was good to know.  Heather would need to make that adjustment.

Cam—Cameron—nodded and left Heather to her workout.  The workout went surprisingly smooth and her spirits were lifted through it. 

Cameron triple-checked the address that Heather had written on the piece of scrap paper.  Her handwriting was interesting.  The numbers were all very neat and aligned.  Her five looked like it could have been typed by a computer and her zero had the little line through it to distinguish it from a capital ‘O’.  The letters, however, were less neat.  They were flowy, one letter flowing into the next.  Not quite cursive, but some mix between cursive and print.   Her lowercase ‘S’s were actually cursive and Cameron suddenly understood why the cursive ‘S’ looked the way it did.  She hadn’t bothered to write out the state, only the zip code after the city.  Not that the city would have been necessary either, but that was beside the point.

The address on the paper was the same as the address on the house in front of him.  Heather lived in a quaint neighborhood.  The house she owned was probably no bigger than a two-bedroom house.  Cameron’s own place was an apartment-style flat.  He didn’t need to take care of a yard or anything like that.  He didn’t have the time, nor did he care about that sort of thing.

However, either Heather cared enough about her yard to keep the leaves raked and the grass mowed, or someone else did it for her.

He told himself that he had done enough staring and he got out of his car.  He walked past Heather’s car, a Volkswagen Beetle in that pale blue color that the newer models came in.  It looked really cute and well cared for, obviously different next to his mostly beat-up silver Honda Civic.  Then again, Cameron liked driving around something that wasn’t ostentatious.  It was unassuming, which made staying unrecognized on the street easier. 

Cameron went up and rang the doorbell.  It only ‘dinged’, it didn’t ‘dong’ afterwards. 

Heather was quick to answer the door.  Had she been expecting him to come at this time? Or had she just been close when he had rang the doorbell?

“Hey,” she said.  “Come in.”

She led Cameron in and he found himself in what should have been a front room or a living room.  Except it was full of exercise equipment. 

“This is my gym,” Heather said.  “Not all of the equipment could fit into any other room and I wasn’t going to split it between rooms.”

Cameron nodded in understanding.

The kitchen was right next to the gym.  Heather didn’t point it out to him.  Instead, they went to a room across from the kitchen, which was obviously the room she was using as a living room.  There was a couch, a recliner, a simple coffee table, and a very large entertainment center.  The room was obviously intended to be a bedroom.  One of the closet doors wasn’t slid all the way shut and Cameron could see a bookcase with DVDs or maybe more video games on it. 

Heather flopped down on the couch and gestured that Cameron sit in the recliner. 

“Oh, do you want anything to drink?” she asked.

Cameron was a little hesitant to answer at first.  He didn’t drink soda or alcohol or anything.

“I have water and a red sports drink left,” Heather said. 

“Oh, water’s fine,” Cameron said.  He was pretty sure he had already replenished his electrolytes. 

Heather bounced back up from the couch and went over to a mini fridge in the corner that Cameron had initially overlooked.  She grabbed two waters out of the fridge and handed one of them to Cameron.  She opened the other one for herself and drank a third of it in one swig.  Cameron sipped at his. 

“So what would you like to see first?” Heather asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Cameron replied.  “I’ve only ever played a few fighting games and I didn’t like any of them.”

“Okay, well do you want to play something with a story, with a whole ton of shooting, or perhaps a racing game? I think I’ve got some strictly puzzle games too.”

It amazed Cameron that there were so many types of games.  It amazed him even more that Heather could forget if she even had specific games or not. 

“I think a story game would be good,” Cameron said, trying to pick a type of game that Heather would appreciate him for.  Or should he have said shooting? He had no idea.

“Okay, I’ll show you this one then,” Heather said.  She pulled a case off of the entertainment center.  The front of the game featured about five people.  One of the people had a sword, another a staff, someone else had a musical instrument.  The game sparked no recognition in Cameron’s mind.  But it wasn’t like he watched commercials often.  He also ran an ad blocker on his computer’s browser and ignored any ad that showed up on his phone.

Heather popped the game disc into one of several systems that Cameron could see.  Two of them were black.  One was white. Another was purple, and another one was green.  He had no frame of reference.  He vaguely remembered some of the fighting games he had played when he was younger being played on a grey colored system.  Heather didn’t appear to have one of those.

The game loaded up.

“So, do you want to start the game fresh?” Heather asked, holding a controller in her hands.  “Or do you want me to load up one of my games and run around for a bit so you can see what it’s like?”

“First you show me, then I’ll decide if I want to start it or not,” Cameron answered.

Heather shrugged.  “Fair enough.”

Cameron was surprisingly not bad at video games.  This was a bit of a relief to Heather.  Rather, it was a relief that he seemed to be enjoying himself.  The situation was so normal to Heather it was like there was a weird weight on her chest with all the normalcy.

Two twenty something year olds sitting and playing video games. 

Cameron was also incredibly attractive, Heather found herself thinking.  He also chose all of the very kind choices for dialogue options in the video game.  They were not always the ones that did the best for the story, but Heather didn’t want to tell him anything and spoil his experience.  But the choices he made were just all of the kind ones.  That gave Heather hope for whatever was underneath his tough guy act.

After several hours of playing, Cameron put down the controller.

“Is there something that I could play that doesn’t involve me thinking too much? All of this talking and trying to figure things out is great and all, but I’m tired.”  He laughed nervously.

“Yeah, I’ll grab a racing game,” Heather said.  She took the controller from Cameron, but she didn’t even put a different disc in.  She just went to her game system’s menu and loaded up one of the preloaded games.  One where they would race hovercraft, where the controls were simple and intuitive. 

She handed Cameron the second controller and pointed out which buttons did which action.  Then they started to race.