Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(87)

I watched her go, grinning hugely.



The next day, I was too busy calling up my contacts in the fighting world to bother with Alexa. I found a nice spot up on the roof deck in the sun, set up my laptop and phone, and began to make my calls.

Back before I left for Thailand, I had a pretty decent career. Promoters were calling me up all the time, begging me to fight random guys all the time. I was lucky enough to get to be a little selective with who I fought and when. Now, though, I needed to take whatever fights I could get, prove that I was still worth watching.

That was something I liked about fighting. Nobody gave a shit who you were or what you looked like. If you could fuck some guy up with your bare hands, then you were good to go. Skill was the only thing that people looked for, and I had plenty of it.

Unfortunately, I had to prove that still. Even though I had just gotten back from training with Skad, which was a huge boost to my profile, I couldn’t just jump into the ring with some big-name fighter.

After maybe an hour or two, I finally had a match set up for the next week. Normally fighters wanted more time to study tape and shit like that, but I wanted to get into the ring as soon as possible. My manager wasn’t too happy about that decision, but he could go fuck himself. The fight was with some young guy who probably considered himself lucky to get into the ring with someone a little more established, like me.

But that made it a dangerous match. I didn’t know the kid and he didn’t know me, so we were going into this blind.

As I sat there Googling his name, Frank slowly came up the steps.

“There you are,” he said. I looked up from my laptop.

“Frank.” I nodded to him.

He stood near the railing, looking out over the city. “Nice view, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I said.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Frank said, sitting down at the table with me.

“Go for it.” I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.

“Cole, I’m glad you’re staying here with us. The house is usually very empty for Alex since I work so much.”

“I’m happy to help.”

“It’s just, I want to make this work, with your mother. But things are difficult. We have a lot of outside stress.”

I nodded, frowning. “Alex mentioned some of that.”

“Yes. Well. Your mother wanted me to say . . .” He looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “She wanted me to say that we hope you’ll try and help out, while you’re around.”

“Frank, did Cindy send you up here to try and tell me to behave?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not like that.”

I held up a hand. “Yes, it is. And it’s fine. I don’t blame you one bit.”

“I do mean it when I say I’m glad you’re staying. I hope you’ll at least try and be friends with Alex.”

“I’m sure me and your daughter will be very close.”

“And try to get along with your mom, too.”

“That I can’t promise.”

He nodded. “Good enough.” He stood up to leave. “Sorry to have bothered you. Consider this matter closed.”

He turned to leave. “Frank?” I said. He looked back at me. “Don’t be my mother’s errand boy. She doesn’t respect that.”

He opened his mouth as if he was going to respond but decided against it. Instead he just smiled and left.

I watched him go, curious. Most men would have gotten pissed off at a comment like that, but he seemed to genuinely take it to heart. Or at least he did on the outside.

Frank was an interesting person. Maybe he wasn’t a total douchebag. Then again, he was married to my mother, so who could say?

I checked the time on my laptop and cursed. It was much later than I had expected. I shut the lid and went back into the house.

I had a date with my stepsister soon.



I was leaning up against a tree when Alex came walking down the stoop.

For a second, I felt my heart almost skip a beat. She was wearing this short, tight dress that clung to her hips and heels that made her ass look like fire. She wasn’t showing much skin, but the dress was tight enough to show off her perfect fucking tits and body. Frankly, she looked incredible, and I had the urge to take her right there on the street.

“Sis,” I said. “You look nice.”

She frowned at me. “You could at least dress up.”

I looked down at myself. I was wearing a pair of jeans, boots, a black T-shirt, and an old denim jacket. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You look like a greaser or something.”

I grinned. “Maybe I am.”

“Whatever.” She looked around. “Where’s the car? Your mom said it was waiting out front for us.”