Dances with Monsters(14)
Moreover, he was bullied as kid. In school, he had always been the short, scrawny kid in class, and the bigger boys would never fail to gang up on him at least three times a week to make his life hell. In fact, it was the driving force behind his decision to start wrestling—not only did he like the team atmosphere, but he enjoyed learning moves that he could apply in real life situations. Even now at the age of thirty, he couldn't help warming at the memory of the first time he'd fought back. He'd flipped the main bully over his shoulder and had placed him in a chokehold so fast the kid hadn't even realized what was going on until he realized he'd stopped breathing.
These were the reasons why his gut had clenched when he'd seen Drew sprawled on the floor, looking like she'd just been shot. They were why he'd felt helpless after kicking the Three Assholes out of his gym, why he'd offered to call someone for her, do something to help her—no one had helped him out when he was a kid. No one had tried to help ease his suffering. He'd be damned if he didn't do the same thing for someone else.
But, unfortunately, it seemed Drew was through with Carter's Gym and everyone involved. He was disappointed, but at the very least, he'd given it a shot. Never mind that he felt incredibly stupid for it now.
He hopped the train and headed back to his comfort zone—the gym.
***
Drew was grumbling irritably to herself, washing the utensils she'd used to make Heath Riley's fucking latte, when she felt something swat her rear. She whirled, eyes wide, and saw Bunz shaking her head, twirling a dish towel around in her hands.
"You slapped my ass!" Drew exclaimed needlessly. "What the hell?"
"Can you stop mumbling angrily to yourself over there?" Bunz asked. "You sound like a crazy person."
Drew shot her friend a withering stare and returned to her task. "Gee, sorry to disturb you." She was a little embarrassed, having not realized she was actually vocalizing out loud.
"So, when are you going back to the gym?" Bunz asked.
"Ah, never," Drew replied. "On account of the minor incident I endured a few weeks ago."
"I remember," Bunz said patiently. "But did you not hear him say he would make sure nobody messed with you?"
"What exactly does that mean to me?" Drew demanded. "I don't need or want a bodyguard. I don't need to work out at Carter's Gym that bad."
"Maybe not," Bunz replied. "And I'm fairly certain he wasn't suggesting that he would be your bodyguard. But he made a promise to ensure your comfort and safety. That's pretty damn nice of him."
Drew whirled around and glared at her friend suspiciously. "Since when do you care what Heath Riley says or does?"
"I don't," Bunz said. "I care about you. And you seemed to like going to the gym. And I don't think that you should let a bad experience prevent you from doing something you enjoy, especially when the owner himself came all the way down to Little Italy to apologize to you in person and tell you that he would essentially have your back if you decided to go back to his gym."
"It's really not that deep," Drew replied, and moved to start grinding fresh espresso.
"Plus," Bunz added, "seeing him on TV is totally different than seeing him in person. The man is fine."
Drew chuckled and shook her head. "That's what this is really about. I see."
"He is. Come on, Drew. You have to admit it."
"I don't have to do a damn thing," Drew replied automatically, but she had to agree with her friend. Heath Riley was, to say the very least, a beautiful specimen of a man. She blushed suddenly, thinking that she'd seen more of him in person before than just his face, and as far as she could tell, he was beautiful everywhere. "Maybe you ought to be the one working out at the gym."
"I ain't scared," Bunz said. "Maybe I will."
"Not sure how Anthony would feel about that," Drew pointed out with a grin.
"Oh, yeah," Bunz said, sounding unmoved. "Anthony. Totally forgot about him. Jeez. Two minutes with a gorgeous white boy and I'm trippin'."
Drew snickered as she poured the grounds into the espresso container. Maybe she was being a little hard on Heath, but who was he for her to not be hard on? He was just some troubled, local MMA celebrity with baggage and a gym. Yeah, he'd been nice to her when she'd gotten attacked, and yeah, he'd voluntarily parted with $105 per month, maybe more, by kicking the three stooges out of his gym. And yeah, it was sort of sweet he'd come down to the café just to apologize to her and invite her back although she still didn't see what the big deal was to him. But she wasn't sure if any of those things were worth her going back to a place where she'd been assaulted and violated. She didn't know if she'd be able to work out there again and not think about it.