Smash_ A Stepbrother MMA Romance(51)

But I couldn’t stop myself. I had to get off, had to do something about all the difficult feelings swirling around inside me. I couldn’t believe that I was so wound up that I actually moaned his name out loud. Afterward, I was so embarrassed, almost positive he had heard me; I thought I had even heard him outside my door. But no, that couldn’t have been right.

Still, it was so much harder than I had thought it would to keep my hands off him. I wanted to grab his thick biceps and pull him against me, but that would only have complicated things needlessly.

“Got another fight coming,” he grunted suddenly.

“What?”

“I got another fight coming up soon.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.”

“It’s against Trent.”

That name rang a bell. “He was the guy Ronnie talked about?”

“Yeah. The one and only.”

“Your nemesis or whatever.”

“Fuck nemesis,” he said, shaking his head. “That guy is just a dick.”

I watched as a few people came walking down the sidewalk, but nobody was going in or coming out of the building.

“Why do you hate him anyway?”

“Long story.”

“We’re not doing much.”

“Okay then.” He launched into the whole story, beginning with his early days training with Trent and ending with the fight.

“Wow,” I said once he was finished. “He almost killed you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Almost ended my career at least.”

“Why?”

“Because the guy is a hothead.”

“You’re a hothead too, you know.”

He grinned at me. “I’m just hot.”

“Not what I said.”

What an arrogant ass. Even when he was opening up to me, he could somehow manage to turn it into a cocky joke.

But still, he was opening up to me. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just to have something to talk about, or maybe he genuinely wanted to share his feelings with me. The story about Trent made him look vulnerable and human for the first time since we had met. Before, he had seemed indestructible; now, he seemed tough as nails, but still a person.

“Yeah, well, MMA attracts a certain kind of guy,” he said.

“Clearly.”

“But we’re still professionals, you know? The goal isn’t to actually murder your opponent. It’s to win the fight. Most of us know the difference, but there are a few that are out just to injure everyone they see.”

“And Trent’s like that?”

“When he gets angry, yeah.”

I watched a few cars crawl by. The sun had dipped down below the horizon, and so I took my sunglasses off. It was a comfortable evening, but I wanted to move closer to Cole anyway for warmth. He didn’t react as my arm touched his, our flanks practically pressed together.

“What about you? Are you like that when you get angry?”

He was silent for a second. “Yeah, I am,” he said finally. “But I don’t let myself get to that point.”

“How can you control it?”

“It’s not easy, but there are ways. Techniques, mental and breathing stuff, the sorts of things that can help you focus during really stressful situations.”

“Is that what you do when I get close to you?”

He raised an eyebrow and broke out into a huge smile. “Well, well, well. Was that your attempt at a dirty joke?”

I laughed, not able to help myself. “I guess so. You’re rubbing off on me.”

“Not yet, but I’d love to.”

I rolled my eyes. “There we go. For a second there I thought you were a human and not a total jackass.”

“You started it, sis,” he said. His face and lips were so close to mine, and I felt my breath coming in sharp and jagged.

The total opposite of what kept me calm, actually. He had that effect on me every time he got closer than a few feet. And yet I let myself get that close all the time because I loved it, loved the thrill in my chest, the hammering of my heart, the anticipation of what would happen next.

“I may have started it, but you’re always one step away.”

He had a huge, cocky grin on his face. “And don’t ever forget it.”

His lips were moving closer to mine. I could smell him. Everything about him filled my senses, flooded my mind. And then I caught something out of the corner of my eye, something glinting, something moving.

“Cole,” I whispered.

“Alexa, just give in to what you need,” he said.

“Cole,” I said louder.

He looked puzzled, his face inches from mine. “What?”

“Door!”

He spun around and saw it: a man had hustled out of the door, talking on his phone.