There's an ache in my chest. Unthinking, I start to rub it. It suddenly feels hollow and cold.
Thanks for the dick, but we're done here.
Thanks for the dick? Is that all this was? A fuck?
How could she think we were just fucking? Last night was like nothing I've ever experienced before. I've never felt so connected to a person, or so obsessed with their pleasure. I almost fell to my knees when she stood naked in front of me yesterday, beautifully clothed only in moonlight. In that moment, I would've given her anything she asked for—my only thought was to make her happy. I could've skipped the orgasms and been just as happy doing anything she asked of me.
I don’t think it’s ever been just fucking. How could I have misread the situation so badly?
I shake my head with a frown, trying to physically straighten the muddled thoughts in my brain into some kind of order. Why does the thought of not having Remy around make me feel worse than a fifteen-pound weight cut the day before a fight?
I feel dizzy, like I might pass out. I reach for the banister to steady myself as I start to sway. I realize then that I've never before wanted to be more than a booty call to anyone. These thoughts of wanting to keep her, of getting jealous when someone else pays attention to her, of wanting to see her smile and feeling lighter in my own body when she does—these are all brand new thoughts to me. And it never fucking occurred to me that she might not feel the same way.
Jax walks through the front door and finds me wide-eyed and glued to the spot, gripping the banister with white knuckles. "Whoa, dude, what the fuck?” he cries. “You look like you just saw a ghost. What happened?"
I shake my head with a frown, once again trying to organize my own clusterfuck of thoughts. I let go of the banister and shove my hands into my pockets with a cough.
"Nothing, I just got a big fight offer," I lie quickly. "And then I had to turn it down."
Okay, so not a complete lie, just a few days late with the news.
And yes, a little lie about why I'm white as a sheet right now.
"What?!" Jax yelps. He braces his hands on his hips and aims a very angry frown in my direction. "What do you mean you turned it down?!"
I nervously run my fingers through my hair, turning my gaze to the ceiling. "They finally offered me Jenkins," I admit. "But I had to turn it down because I'm already scheduled to go to Myrtle Beach with Mom for her 50th birthday weekend. I tried to make her understand how big an opportunity this was, but she couldn't let go of the idea that I was picking fighting over her. She practically burst into tears when I mentioned not going." I wince at the memory.
Jax mutters a curse and starts pacing the hallway. "How does your family not understand how good you are?" he spits angrily. "Why do they still think you're just a kid playing at karate? It's fucking ridiculous to turn down a possible interview for the UFC for a goddamnbirthday party."
Jax is seething, glaring at the wall as he tries to calm his thoughts. In this moment I'm once again reminded how good a friend he is. How hard he'd fight for me and how much he actually gives a shit about me. He might be more upset about this situation than even I was after the phone call with my mom.
That might be because you had Remy underneath you immediately afterwards.
I shake away the thoughts of Remy. I can't handle more than one life crisis at a time.
"This is bullshit," Jax growls. "So, you're really not going to take the fight?"
I wince and awkwardly rub the back of my neck. "I can't hurt my own mom, Jax. My parents aren't like yours. You know you'll always have them, no matter what happens to you or them. With my parents… with my parents this would be the last straw. It would break Mom's heart and Dad would cut me out." I hang my head, guilt seeping out of my every pore. "I can't do that to my own mother, man."
Jax sighs angrily and throws up his hands in defeat. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. It's the right call." He pauses and aims one more glare my way before dropping it. "But dude, your family fucking sucks when it comes to fighting."
I sigh in defeat of my own. "Yeah, I know. If I want to make it to the UFC, I might have to break their hearts someday. I know that. But… just not today."
He nods sympathetically before looking around. "By the way, where's Remy? I thought we were doing lunch when I got back. Is she back yet?"
A hot blade of pain pierces through my chest at the mention of her name.
"Uh, she left," I stammer. That blade twists further in my heart when I hear just how true those words ring.
She left me. Even though I never really had her.
Jax's brows furrow and he tilts his head, staring at me with an unspoken question. Of course he'd be able to sense that something is different.
I try to remember how I acted with Remy before this all started. All sarcasm and condescension, right? Some sexist jokes? A generally uncaring attitude?
Fuck, has it really only been ten days?
"She said she was tired of my ugly face and wanted to get out of here," I choke out hastily, remembering her parting words and swallowing the dizziness that threatens to knock me over at the memory. "She went back to the new apartment. Not sure if she'll come back, she seemed pretty over this house after being stuck with me for so long."