Tyed(67)

But even after saying this, I know that I can't let him leave without hearing him out.

"It won't take long," Ty reassures.

I stride warily toward him, my quivering lower lip completely betraying whatever mask of cool I've been desperately trying to put on. Ty looks great, but not what I expected. Slightly thinner, not his bulky, usual self, and his eyes are tired. Usually, after a long-awaited fight, fighters go on binge-fests and rock a few days of relaxation, but Ty looks even worse than he did when he cut weight and trained like hell. He's beat.

"Let's take it outside." He nods at the door, and I follow him silently. He leans against the back wall outside, one foot and his back pressed against the bricks, his hands deep in his pockets. I fold my arms and wait for him to start.

"Well?" I ask, expecting him to apologize. But he doesn't, he just stares at me blankly.

"Well...what? I wanted to see you, see how you're doing, say congrats about you graduating. Have you gone to that job interview yet?"

Is he kidding me?

"Are you not going to apologize?"

"For what?" He wrinkles his forehead. I'm floored. Is this a joke?

"You were a male prostitute," I accuse.

"Before I knew of your existence, before we've even met. I've never even looked at a girl since our first date."

"You hid your past away from me. You had no right."

"I had every fucking right. It's my past, not my present, not my future. Besides, I remember pretty clearly I did promise to share my past with you at some point, when I was ready, not when your little BFF decided to throw another bash-fest for me."

"You put me at risk when you slept with me." I raise my voice, losing control over my emotions. My hands are shaking, but it doesn't stop me from waving them at Ty frantically. "I could've caught something. This is serious."

He looks away from my face, staring at nothing in particular. I know this strategy. I hit a nerve.

"I always used protection and I knew I was clean. Hell, you do realize we get tested before every fight to make sure we're all good, right? I'm sorry you were hurt, but I genuinely tried to up my game for you. It was never enough, though. You always kept running away every time things didn't fit into your perfect existence and listened to Shane instead of running things past me. But you know what? I don't remember giving you shit about it, Barbie."

What the hell? This is not what I was expecting to come out of this conversation. Why has he even bothered showing up here if he intended to lecture me about my behavior? Un-fucking-believable.

"How much did Nicole pay to sleep with you?" I taunt, feigning amusement. I can't seriously dignify his last accusation with an answer. I know I wasn't perfect, but I didn't hold a destructive secret either. "Tell me, so I can appreciate what you've given me for free."

He rests his head on the wall behind him and lets out a bitter laugh that makes my skin crawl. Frankly, he seems as pissed off as I am right now. More.

"Nicole was just for fun. I didn't charge her shit. She came along way after I wrapped things up with Ray. I've been out of the business for six months now. Happy?" His cheeks are flushed, his breathing heavy. “I didn’t come her to talk about Nicole.”

"So why did you come?" I'm grinding my teeth, annoyed with myself for even mentioning her name.

"I came here because I thought you might have calmed down. But I was wrong."

It's starting to seem like he's the one who isn't happy with me. I keep quiet, my eyes clinging to his face.

"Nothing to say, huh?" His sad smile fills the gap between us with more than words.

Ty pivots, and I have to do something more destructive. I can't let him leave before I scar him deeper than he scarred me. And he got fucking deep.

"Ray's right. You're still the guy you were, you know," I spit after him. “You haven’t changed.”

He turns around slowly, squinting his eyes and zeroing on me. "This is your cue to run away, sweetheart. So run. I'm done chasing."





Chapter Seventeen



I suck at job interviews.

When Mikey interviewed me for the position at Ned’s, I arrived half an hour late, broke the glass of water he had offered me and got caught lying about my experience as a bartender. So I’m keeping my expectations to the absolute minimum with the job interview as an intern at Diablo Hill magazine. In fact, if I manage not to break anything in the process, I’ll declare victory.

The fact that I have absolutely nothing to offer—I didn't even major in journalism and my only connection to the school paper is that I once fooled around with a guy who wrote for the music section—doesn't help. But I'm eager to impress, and still on a high from graduating, so I'm hoping this will work in my favor.