Worth the fight - Keeland Vi (лучшие книги TXT) 📗
The fight didn’t last long, two rounds. I remember it clearly. It was probably less than ten minutes in total. The pre-fight festivities lasted an hour longer than the actual fight. Our seats were good, only about 10 rows back from the center of the ring. I remember flinching every time one of the men threw a punch, yet I couldn’t turn away. I close my eyes and watch instant replay of those last seconds. Most people think having a photographic memory is a blessing, but in my case it’s a curse. Yes, I remember lots of figures and words, but I also remember all of the bad things I’d rather forget.
It’s as if I flipped on a video and hit play right as those last few seconds play out. I see Nico throw the punch, and then I watch in slow motion as his opponent’s head turns to the side with the force of ten men. He drops to the floor, his head limp and rattling around before it even hits the canvas. The screaming crowd becomes silent and the medical team rushes into the cage seconds after it all happens.
As horrible as it is, seeing that all play out in my mind isn’t what haunts me. It’s the still of the fighter dropped to his knees when he realizes the man isn’t getting back up. He’s shattered. I can’t take my eyes from his face as I watch him break into a million little pieces. I should’ve felt sorry for the man that just lost his life, but I don’t even look his way. I’m fixated on the man who will never be the same. Never. I know it. I feel connected to him for a stopped moment in time.
In my mind, it’s high noon and the shadow of my past is twice the size of me. Towering over me. I can’t escape it.
Chapter 4
Elle
I’m later than usual when I finally get to the office. I’m still in a fog and find myself dazing out as I catch up on emails and plan my day. Nico “The Lady Killer” Hunter. I didn’t know him before the fight, but that was his name. I remember watching him walk into the cage and smile a cocky smile at the crowd. The ladies went crazy. It didn’t take long to figure out what his name meant. I remember feeling a jolt when I took in his smile and that body, that incredible body.
The press had a field day for weeks after that fight. His name may have been Nico “The Lady Killer” Hunter before the fight, but the press removed the “Lady” part from his name after that.
I’m typing words into Google before I even realize what I’m doing. The pictures that were etched into my brain are no different on the screen when they appear. The referee had ruled the fatal blow a clean hit, but that didn’t stop the press from sensationalizing the story. A few weeks later, after the press had moved on to whatever carcass was yet to be picked over, I read a small story hidden in the back of the paper amongst the advertising. Nico’s opponent had had an unknown underlying head condition and was a walking time bomb.
I’m able to push thoughts of Nico into the depths of my head and finally get some work done after two more cups of coffee. It’s midafternoon when Regina buzzes in to tell me I have a client in the lobby, but I don’t have an appointment on my calendar.
I walk into the lobby, my thick sandy blonde hair being held in place on top of my head in a lopsided bun held together by two strategically placed pencils. I stop in my tracks as I see Nico rise from the couch in the waiting room and toss a magazine back on the table.
I’m surprised by his appearance, but he seems oddly familiar after spending half of the night and most of the morning in my mind. I put on my best game face and straighten my posture. “Mr. Hunter, did I have an appointment with you today?” I pretend I’m concerned I may have forgotten an appointment, but there is no way I’ve forgotten anything about the man from the two times I’ve seen him.
He takes two steps closer to me, just an inch or two closer than one would consider normal space between people. But I notice it. He’s taller than me by at least eight inches, if not more. “It’s Nico, please.” He smiles at me and the room feels smaller, warmer.
I smile back. I don’t have to fake it, it’s a real smile. I’m happy to see him and I can’t hide it anyway. I have no idea why. I should be freaked out after what I remembered, but I’m not for some reason. I’m curious about this man. I nod my head. “Nico, what can I help you with?”
He smiles, it’s a mischievous, lopsided smile that makes me think the man is playful. But damn if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. “I remembered a few things I thought I should tell you that I didn’t mention yesterday. Do you have a few minutes?”
I tilt my head to the side and study him. What is it about him that doesn’t want to make me run even though I can feel my heart racing through my shirt? “Sure, let’s go talk in my office.”
Nico smiles a victorious smile and it’s contagious. I smile back and I’m not quite sure what we are even smiling about. He follows me down the hallway and as I turn into my office I catch his eyes lingering on my behind. He looks up just as I take in his line of sight. A normal response would be to be embarrassed at being caught, but not Nico. He grins at me unapologetically. Instead of finding it rude or harassing, for some reason I find it turns me on.
I sit behind my desk and Nico looks at the small chair sitting opposite my desk and back to me. “Would you mind if we sat over there?” He motions to the couch behind him and I realize for the first time that a man of his size wouldn’t fit in the little delicate chair which sits in front of my desk.
“Oh, sure, I’m sorry.” I let out a small laugh. “I guess that chair wouldn’t be too comfortable for someone your size?”
Nico stands next to the couch and waits for me to sit. I sit on the far end and expect him to sit at the opposite end, so there is space between us as we talk. A desk usually fills the requisite space for a business meeting, but there is no desk separating us on the couch. Nico doesn’t do the socially acceptable thing. Instead he sits directly next to me on the couch. Not abnormally close so we are touching, but close, like we’re in a theatre next to each other.
God it’s hot in this little office, I realize I shouldn’t have closed the door. I stand and walk over to the window and open it. I walk back to the couch and Nico turns to face me. He’s so close I have the urge to reach out and touch him. He’s watching me and has a small smile on his face. I get up to grab a pad and pen and his smile is bigger when I return, he looks amused. He must realize that I’m fidgeting. I’m trying hard to pretend he doesn’t affect me, but he does for some reason.
“So, Nico, what did you want to tell me about?” I put my pen to the paper, ready to take notes with my head down. I’m determined not to get caught in his gaze again.
But Nico waits quietly and doesn’t speak. Eventually I have no choice but to look up at him to see why he hasn’t started talking yet. And he catches my eyes when I do and smiles. I smile back, even though I’m aware he just completely played me.
“I forgot to ask you out to dinner yesterday.”
“Dinner?” I’m momentarily confused.
Nico smiles a devilish smile and I get the urge to kiss it right off his face. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m calm, cool, and collected. Not some schoolgirl at a loss around the cute boy in class.
“Yes, dinner. You do eat, don’t you?” His voice is a mix of amused and teasing.
“Umm.” I stammer for a few seconds. “I can’t.”
His response is quick, I feel like I’m at a deposition and I’m the one being deposed. “Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t be right.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Not really.”
“Then why wouldn’t it be right?” Nico flashes the crooked smile and I know before he speaks whatever he says will be something flirty. “I think it would be very right.”
