“I, uh . . .” I begin, faltering a bit as I brush my hair back and shoulder my bag, somehow feeling protected by its weight against my back. Also, hoping it’s a stark reminder that I just helped a few of his men who would’ve been a lot worse off if I hadn’t shown up. With that bit of information flowing through my veins, I straighten and start again. “I’m Frankie Reeves.”
There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes, the exact response I was hoping for an hour ago when I drove my car into the parking lot.
This is what I wanted: to walk in here, go up to someone, tell them my name and get a reaction.
“Do you know my father?”
When the question is out of my mouth, the room around me fades into silence.
Chapter 1
Gunnar
“Oh, yeah, that’s it!”
You know when you’re somewhere between dreaming and waking up and you’re unsure what’s real or not?
That’s where I am right now.
“Right here,” he says, somewhat out of breath. “That’s perfect, baby. Stay still, though, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t worry about me, I can handle it.”
I could’ve sworn I was having a sex dream but now, I’m not so sure.
Bang, bang, bang.
They’re going to break the fucking bed with the way the walls are shaking.
“Shit, it’s still not going in all the way. Do it harder, Cage.”
And, I’m awake.
Hearing my oldest brother’s name being called out and told to do it harder is enough to kick me out of the deepest sleep.
Guaranteed.
Bang, bang, bang.
“That’s it! Just a little more, babe. You’ve almost got it.”
“I don’t want to break it,” Cage growls out in frustration.
“One more stroke and you’re there.”
My god. There aren’t enough pillows in the state of Tennessee to bury my head in to block out the sound of my brother and his girlfriend having sex.
Also, is he trying to kill the poor girl? He’s twice her size and it sounds like he’s trying to plow her through the damn wall.
BANG.
“That’s it!” she exclaims, elation thick in her tone. “You did it!”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, babe.” He sounds out of breath and it’s all I can do to keep last night’s dinner from spewing all over the bedroom. I could’ve lived another twenty-two years without being witness to this exhibition.
“That stud was a nightmare to get the nail through.”
Huh?
“That’s why these old buildings are so great,” she says. “They were built to last, strong and sturdy, just like my Viking man.”
Tempest’s voice just dropped.
Why did her voice drop?
Cage laughs, and his voice is deeper and . . . husky? And that’s my cue to get up and make it known I can hear everything going on before things really get going. It also might be time to move to the other side of the apartment.
Or the fucking state.
I’ve been here in Green Valley for a week and it’s been great so far, but I don’t want to cramp their style or make things uncomfortable. I also don’t want to inadvertently be a third wheel to their fuck-fest on a regular basis.
That happened too many times back home with my other brothers and it’s a trend I don’t care to continue. If I had a job, I could move into my own place, but Cage is a fucking hardass and the training schedule has been brutal. Any employment outside of training for a fight and teaching classes is out of the question. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s why I’m here—to train and be the best, and eventually, to be as good as him.
By the time I’ve dressed, brushed my teeth, and opened my door, Cage has Tempest pushed up against the wall across from my room with his tongue down her throat, right next to the framed picture they obviously just hung.
Tempest immediately pulls away and hides her face in his chest as she chuckles, but my brother can’t bother to even pretend to be embarrassed.
“Just let me get to the kitchen before you two attack each other again, please,” I mutter, quickly walking past them, avoiding all eye contact.
Tempest calls out, “Sorry!” But Cage follows up with, “No, we’re not,” before I hear a door slam closed.
Quickly, I fix myself a protein shake and head downstairs to the studio to begin my morning workout. I’m not mad at the lovebirds upstairs, not in the least. I’m thrilled Cage has finally found his person and is in love. But I’ve just met Tempest and, although I think she’s great and perfect for my brother, I’m not comfortable seeing her being manhandled by the guy.
I’m used to my brothers bringing random chicks to the studio and to the house we used to share, but I knew I’d most likely never see the women a second time. In this case, I’m pretty sure Tempest will become my sister-in-law, sooner rather than later, and I’d rather not know any intimate details about her, if you know what I mean.
My warm-up takes the usual thirty minutes or so and then I switch to my official workout. It’s seamless, one flowing into the other. It's like breathing to me: easy but necessary. I need to feel the burn of my muscles, the sweat rolling down my body, the tightening of my lungs every day. It helps to clear my mind and stay focused while getting me closer to my goal of being the top MMA fighter in my weight class.
I’ve been going at it for a good hour when Cage finally waltzes in, his smile making it very clear he was going at it good too, but in a different way.
Asshole.
Between punches, I glance at him, giving him an intense glare just like I would an opponent. I swear if I wasn’t wearing boxing gloves, I’d flip him off just for being his smug self and silently rubbing his sexcapades in my face. It’s been way too long since I’ve been balls deep in anything besides my palm and I don’t appreciate being woken up with a resounding reminder that, once again, Cage gets everything he wants.
And he’s the best at it.
Fucker.
He’s even good at retiring, even though it was forced upon him thanks to a career-ending injury. Regardless, he’s excelling at it, totally making it his bitch. This new gym is everything he ever wanted Erickson’s to be and more. It’s personal, one-on-one coaching. There isn’t any showboating. Everyone is treated equally.
Sure, he doesn’t have many patrons yet, but he’s building a good, solid foundation. Besides, once I go pro, he’ll have all the publicity he can handle, and I’ll be doing for him what he spent his career doing for our family gym back home.
“I’m sorry, man,” he finally says, breaking the silence with a laugh. When he sees I don’t believe his bullshit, he holds up his hands in surrender. “I am, I mean it.”
Eventually, I hold my punches and face him straight on. “Look, I’m happy for you and Tempest, but I really don’t want to walk in on the two of you fucking. If I need to find another place to live, I will.”
“Don’t be stupid, G. We’ve had this place to ourselves for months; you’ve been here a week. It’s an adjustment for all of us, but we’ll make it work.”