“Okay, baby. Yeah,” he mumbles. “I’ll feel better when you’re here. Everything’s going okay with you though? Been worried about you,” he admits.
My lips turn up into a small smile. “I’m okay, Louie. I can’t wait to see you.”
After a few moments, we end the call, but before we hang up, he promises to call again later tonight. Closing my eyes, I hate that I’m not being completely open with him, but I can’t, not right now. I will, and I’m not lying, I’m just kind of skirting around things until I can see him in person. Hopefully he doesn’t get mad at me about any of it.
LOUIS
Something is definitely up with Tulip. Lying in bed after hanging up with her for the second time today, I wonder exactly what she’s keeping from me. I have no doubt that it’s something. I can tell in the way she carefully words her conversations and the fact that she hasn’t been home much.
I’ll have my chance to ask her in a couple more days, but something ugly settles in my belly at the idea that she is doing something behind my back. Before leaving, I trusted everything about her, every fucking part of her. I hate that I don’t right now.
Closing my eyes, I force myself to sleep. I have a shoot in the morning. It’s almost time to weigh in and start all of the real preparations for Saturday. Everything about the next couple of days makes me want to vomit.
I know that it’s going to be a fucking nightmare, reliving every single step of the last fight that I was in, the one where I took a man’s life.
The feeling of not being ready slides up my throat, choking me again. The simple fact is that I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready, but it’s only been a few months.
The next morning I’m up, having not slept peacefully at all. Showering, I tug on some clothes before sending Tulip a text message.
MORNING TULLIE. JUST ONE MORE DAY.
TULIP: I can’t wait!!!
SOON, BABY.
TULIP: Have a wonderful day. Call me when you can.
WILL DO.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I make my way toward the gym. The photographer is supposed to meet us there. I never know who is going to be the official photog for the event, they usually go with the cheapest bid.
Walking into the gym, I’m not surprised to see that Aaron is already here, along with Shawn who is at the bag warming up.
Jerking my chin toward Aaron, I walk over to the makeup station that’s set up in a corner. I fucking hate this shit.
Makeup.
It’s so goddamn dumb, especially since they just photoshop the fuck out of these images anyway.
“There is the event photographer that will be here, then Sports Illustrated is sending someone over as well. Men’s Health may be stopping by as well. It’s going to be a busy day, you good?” Gary asks, never looking up from his iPad.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I grunt.
It’s what he wants to hear, he doesn’t give a fuck if I am or not. He just wants me to tell him that I’m fucking perfect.
“Good. We’ll break for lunch, but they’re all going to want still and action shots, so it’s going to be a day.”
“Thank fuck I’ve been training for months for this then,” I snap.
Gary lifts his head, his eyes rounding at my tone. My publicist is only worried about things that affect the bottom line, that affect his percentage. He forgets that I’m a fucking person. He nods once, then turns around and thankfully leaves me alone.
Closing my eyes, I let the makeup woman do her thing, hating every second of it. When she’s finished, a stylist takes me over to a small clothing rack and shoves a pair of brand new gold boxing shorts at me.
Jerking my chin at Aaron, he follows me into the locker room. I quickly put the shorts on as he grabs a pair of bright red gloves, something that the stylist demanded. He wraps my hands for the images without the gloves and helps me put them on, all in silence.
“Your girl gets here tomorrow?” he asks.
Dipping my chin, I let out a breath. “Shawn’s picking her up and taking her to my place.”
“You got your shit locked down?” he asks.
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Not even close,” I admit.
His weathered eyes watch me for a moment. “You will,” he states with a jerk of his chin. I watch for a moment as he walks out of the locker room and I clear my throat before I follow in his path.
“Okay, let’s get some shots in the ring,” I hear a female voice call out.
I recognize that voice. It’s been years, but it’s not a voice I could ever forget. Slowly, I lift my gaze to see none other than the only girl I ever felt a fucking thing for before Tulip came around.
Meghan is standing right in front of me, a camera strap wrapped around her neck, holding a camera in her hand.
She turns her head to look at me. I watch as her lips curl up into a smile. Unlike me, she’s not surprised to see me. That’s because she knew I was the subject of today’s shoot. She probably put her bid in for this job.
“So, this what you do now?” I ask as I climb into the training ring.
Something causes her smile to drop before she plasters a fake one in its place. “Single mom, have to make ends meet these days.” She shrugs.
I almost smile at her words. I should fucking gloat in her face, but I can tell that she’s not happy about the single mom bit. If this was a year ago, I probably would gloat, but I’m not in that place anymore. I don’t hate her, in fact, I don’t feel anything for her.
“Ready?” I ask.
Her body jerks slightly at my brisk tone, but honestly, I just want this shit done. This is my least favorite part of the job. We don’t speak again for the entire shoot. When she’s finished, I turn to walk away, but she calls me back.
“Yeah?” I ask, turning around to look at her.
She presses her lips together, closing the distance between us. “I just. I know you’re single and I wanted to know if you would like to go and grab a drink. I just, I feel like we have unfinished business.”
Before I can open my mouth to deny her words, she lifts her hand and places her palm on my bare chest, sliding it up to curl her fingers around my neck.
“I never forgot about you, Louis. Not ever. I was a stupid kid. Please,” she breathes.
This is everything I wanted from her, except this is almost two decades too fucking late. I thought that I loved her back then, I would have done anything for her. Ultimately, it was losing her that made me work harder to become the man that I am.
I don’t tell her any of that, she doesn’t deserve to know. She doesn’t deserve to think that she truly had a hand in becoming who I am today. Keeping my face completely impassive, I glance down at her.
“I’m not single, Meghan. Got a good woman at my back, one who doesn’t give a fuck that I’m not white. She stands proudly at my side knowing I’m a killer, knowing I’m half-black. She just fucking gets me and when I say that, I mean that she gets to have all of me. Something you never had.”
Her lips wobble and she takes a step back, her hand falling from my neck. “I was just a kid, you don’t understand,” she whispers.