I think the fighting media has even gotten tired of his whiney voice.
We have to cut some promos in next week about the fight coming up and I just do not have the patience for it. I want to talk some shit back, not with pitiful words but with my fucking fists.
I am going to punish the little fucker. I haven't seen Avery in over two months. I haven't felt her warm body in my bed. I haven't been able to pin her down on the mattress and fuck both of our brains into the fucking oblivion this whole fucking time. I haven't heard her voice, this has been fucking hell and miserable.
Before Avery, I wasn't the best of people. I was the quintessential bad boy. I filled the lonely spots in my life with lots of women and lots sex. Most of the women I was with were there for a little while, and then gone once they figured out I wasn't a free ride and training came first. Well hell, I think I even told most of them that training would always come before them.
The house is empty now, most of the guys who were always stopping by to hang out are gone now. I just don't have the state of mind to party. I was beginning to think I liked the idea of settling down with Avery. I liked movie nights and cuddling on the couch while Sebastian snoozed on our laps. Shit, I was even getting ready to give up the bachelor look in the living room and have Avery help decorate the home she would be living in.
My days are filled with training and my nights are filled with either working on the house or harassing Dad. I’ve taken up repainting the house, something I’ve always put off, something I could never find the time for. Well now I’ve got fucking time. I’ve got time to paint. Time to think. Time to drive myself fucking crazy. This shit is killing me. I fucking miss Avery.
Her hair is everywhere.
Chapter Twenty-One
Avery
I wish Chase would stop texting me and asking me if I’m okay. Every time he does, I’m far too tempted to ask him to come back. Far too tempted to tell him I’m a dumbass and I don’t deserve him but I want him. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for being an ungrateful bitch. But I don’t tell him that because that would be selfish of me to do.
Especially since what was supposed to be only two weeks working for Ethan has somehow morphed into six.
I can’t find another job. Lord knows I’ve tried. I’ve put in applications across the city, anywhere and everywhere I can but no one is calling me. Ethan must somehow be behind it. He must be doing something to sabotage me, but I have no evidence to prove it, nothing but a gut feeling. It just makes no sense. I’ve applied everywhere, for anything and everything. I have absolutely no problem cleaning toilets or walking dogs. Whatever Ethan is doing, he’s insured that I’m stuck with him. It sucks.
Working for Ethan, it’s not awful in and of itself, it just feels weird. I rarely have to do anything business related. He has me doing mostly small errands such as taking messages that come through the phone he gave me and picking up his coffee and dry cleaning. Mostly though Ethan requests I spend my time with him assisting him in the gym and watching him train.
I feel like a traitor doing it even though we’ve been friends before I ever heard of Chase. There’s just something about watching Ethan train for his match against Chase that eats at my soul. Like I’m literally selling out. So every time Ethan asks me to go to the gym with him I try to find a way out of it.
Today he wasn’t buying my I have a headache excuse. He needs me to bring him his favorite blue hoodie he left in his office then he needs me to drive him home when he’s finished this evening. So, until I can find something else that will pay me enough to make rent, I have to do what he asks of me. I drive the company car he’s assigned me over to his office, pick up the hoodie he left right next to some chick’s nasty panties on the floor and drive it over to the gym.
“Avery,” Ethan greets me with a smile as I walk through the gyms door. “Watch this!”
He does his one armed pushup trick and I do my best to smile and pretend I’m impressed. I’m not.
“That’s awesome,” I say and walk over to my usual bench. I wave his hoodie at him and take a seat.
“I’m up to fifteen,” Ethan grins, hopping to his feet. He grabs a towel, wipes the sweat from his face and walks over to me. “Thanks for picking up my hoodie, you’re the best.”
I reach down and grab his water bottle, handing it up to him. We’ve made a little routine of this. “No problem,” I fib and check my phone for the time. “How late are you planning on staying tonight?”
“You got plans tonight?” Ethan asks without answering me.
I nod, glancing up at him. “Yeah, I’ve got to study.” I always have to study.
“Study while I finish up. Then we can grab some dinner.”
I make a face and he laughs. I hate trying to study here. It stinks, it’s noisy, and distracting. And no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get comfortable. Ethan is supposed to be training but it feels like his eyes are always watching me, especially when I’m trying to focus on whatever book I have in my lap. And when I put my headphones in to drown out the noise, I swear he’s talking about me to his friends that hang around like groupies.
Ethan drops his hand to my shoulder and gives me a little squeeze. I bite my lip to keep from slapping his hand away. “You know, I could cut out early for you.”
“Oh?” I ask, probably too eagerly.
“Yes,” Ethan says and his lips spread into a slow smile. “You can study at my place. We can pick up some takeout and play some Rabid Zombie Hunters. Sound good?”
I frown at Ethan and shake my head. Before I can even tell him why I don’t want to hang out with him, he starts getting upset. His face turns red and his brows pull together. “Why not? We never hang out anymore.”
I sigh, “I’m tired from school and work.”
“Am I working you too hard?” he asks, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “Do you need more time off?”