The Perfect Comeback Page 7

  “Sure, let me just finish up and log off.” Today has been one of those days where we haven’t had a free minute for chatter or shenanigans. The investors for Project X are coming in to meet with the senior developers next week, which has all us running on high—even more so after a few of our betas found a major flaw in level four. I haven’t stopped all day, and a glance at my phone shows me it’s almost seven.

  I don’t want to be late to my first self-defense one-on-one session with Matt, but I still have time for both and need to eat. I’ll just have to keep an eye on the clock during dinner. Oh, and avoid the topic completely so Jared and Rae don’t have a heyday at my expense. I’m sure they’ll tease me relentlessly if they find out. As much as our friendship centers around giving each other a hard time, I’m not quite ready to laugh about last weekend and my impulsive need to become well versed in martial arts.

  Finishing up an email and closing all of my applications, I logout of my computer and pack up my bag before slinging it across my shoulder. Walking out of my cubical and over to Jared’s opening, I find him smiling at his phone screen. “Where’re we going?”

  He glances up, then stands to pocket his phone and wallet before throwing one arm around my shoulder and leading us toward the bank of elevators. “It’s Tuesday, Kitten. Where do you think?”

  All night happy hour, fifty cent wings, and a staff that looks as if they walked off Wrigley Field. “Last Pitch. Rae’s completely predictable.” I reach out and press the button for down. It only takes a second before the middle door opens with a ding and we shuffle inside.

  “Yeah, but you and I aren’t complaining.” Jared bumps my shoulder with a wink.

  “No, we really aren’t. Though that new server makes me feel like a dirty old woman.”

  “Old! Shut your mouth. If you’re old, then that means I’m aging too, and that’s physically impossible.” Jared’s a little touchy about his age, which is funny because the man hasn’t changed since we graduated college more than ten years ago. His tan skin is wrinkle free and as gorgeous as it was in his twenties. “Which one are you talking about? Baby blue eyes and blond hair?”

  As the numbers count down from twelve, our car stops only twice to pick up a few more passengers. “That’s the one.” The elevator dings with the ground floor and we make our way out into the foyer.

  Jared whistles, fanning himself with his hand. “I have no qualms about being a sugar daddy for that boy.”

  I laugh because I understand the feeling. I could almost be the kid’s mother, if I did the teen mom thing, but he’s ridiculously charming and attractive. “Last week he found out what I did for a living while you were flirting with the bartender—”

  “Getting drinks.” Jared interrupts, holding the door so I can pass through.

  A chuckle escapes my lips. “Right. When you were getting drinks for twenty minutes. Anyway, Baby Blues admitted to being a total gamer back in high school. I asked him what his favorite game growing up was. Do you want to know what he said?”

  “Please don’t tell me. He’s too pretty. You’ll ruin the fantasy.”

  “He said Black Ops. You know, because it was the first mature game he was allowed to buy with his allowance.”

  Jared winces and pulls his coat tighter across his chest. It’s cold for September, but Chicago is schizophrenic when it comes to the weather, so next week we could be back in shorts. Thankful for my warm sweatshirt, I tug the hoodie over my head.

  “We didn’t even have ratings on games when we were kids!” He shakes his head with mock exasperation.

  “That’s what I told him!” I nod to the bus stop. “Walk or bus it?”

  “Let’s walk. Thanks to your story, I’m feeling practically ancient. Better keep my heart healthy if I want a shot with baby cakes.”

  “Maybe you should try step aerobics. Then educate him about leg warmers, spandex, and other fashion trends of the 80s.”

  “Oh fuck me, how I could give that boy lessons.”

  “Come on, lover boy. We’ve got another three blocks.” Sliding my arm through Jared’s, we pick up the pace on our walk to Last Pitch. Best friends, food, and laughter promise maybe things are looking up. I hold on to the feeling, determined my positive outlook will guide my future no matter what.

  “He smuggled my mom’s leather jacket—fringe, shoulder pads and all—into his backpack.” Rae slams her hand onto the table top.

  “I guess that’s not so bad.” I shrug.

  “Oh, God.” Jared groans into his glass and hides his eyes.

  “I take it there’s more.” I giggle as Rae’s lips pull up with a wicked smile.

  “He also took her Aqua Net, Pretty in Pink shimmer lip gloss, and charcoal black eye liner.” Rae bursts into laughter and I join along, tears leaking from my eyes as I try to catch my breath. My belly is sore from the amount of fun we’ve had tonight, even if most of it was at Jared’s expense as he and Rae recount childhood tales. I appreciate that Rae hasn’t gloated about hanging out with The Wandering Dead actors and crew all weekend. I saw her snaps and that was bad enough. I’m not one to be naturally green with envy, especially toward someone as kind-hearted as Rae, but seeing her and Violet squished between two of my favorite actors has me extra stabby. It doesn’t go unnoticed by me how she skirts last weekend’s rundown completely. I’m sure it’s to protect my feelings and I only love her more for it.

  Jared shrugs. “I wanted to rock the Boy George look.”

  “It was a sixth grade history presentation!” Rae shakes her head.

  I throw up my hands with disbelief. “How could your parents not have known you were gay?”

  “Right?” Rae’s eyes roll as she shakes her head. “The writing was on the wall.”

  “And the makeup was all over my face.” He grins and finishes his beer with one last swig.

  “Please tell me you have videos.”

  Jared twists his empty glass between his hands. “Oh, for sure. But those are locked in the vault of payback’s a bitch, so they won’t be coming out anytime soon.”

  I smile and nudge him with my shoulder. “Oh, come on. What happened to you only live once?”

  “Once was enough. Believe me.”

  “Oh, shit! I’ve got to go.” Rae grabs her wallet and digs out a twenty to lay on the check. “My friend Eli has a show tonight at DeMonte’s. Photography mixed media. He’s really talented and I promised I’d stop by. You wanna go?”

  Jared nods and retrieves cash for his share. “Anything for my little sis. Plus, if I remember correctly, Eli has a really cute older brother.”

  “Aw. You’re so selfless.” Rae stands, slips on her coat, and pulls out her cell.

  “I do my part to make humanity a better place.” Jared shrugs before doing the same.

  Standing from the table, I pull out my wallet and settle the rest of the bill.

  “Mia, how about you?” Rae asks.

  Jared links his arm with mine. “Of course she’s in.”

  “Actually.” I wince because I’ve been dodging this very conversation all evening. Thought I got away with it, too. “I have plans tonight.”

  “Wait. What plans do you have?” Jared steps back, his stare narrow and lips pursed.

  My hands go to my hips and I purse my lips to meet his accusing glare. “Don’t act so surprised. I can have plans.”

  “Not without dishing to me first! I’m hurt.” He presses his hand into the center of his chest.

  Rae rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around her brother, squeezing him to her side. “He’ll get over it.”

  Jared gives her the side eye. “She’s probably just trying to avoid another lame art exhibit. You have dragged us to some pretty bad ones over the years.”

  “Remember the human body collection? They had that 3D vagina!” Rae giggles and I laugh along.

  Jared’s pout gives way to a smile. “How could I forget? If I weren’t already gay, that sculpture would have done the trick.”

 
“I’m sorry, Rae. I really do have plans.” I give her a quick hug and then turn to Jared to do the same. “And I don’t know what your problem is; that va-jay-jay was a work of art! Uncanny how she molded that Laffy Taffy. Even I wanted to eat it.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Jared smirks and then nods toward the exit. Rae and I follow him out through the crowded restaurant and I think he’ll let things slide, but when he holds open the outside door to let us pass, he pins me with one of his Sherlock stares. “So, you gonna tell us where you’re off to, or do we get to guess?”

  “Ugh. I don’t want to say.” I shield my face as if somehow that will help hide the truth from his inquisitive stare. We walk the short distance to the bus stop and I check my phone, making sure I’m still on track to make it to the gym by ten.

  “Well, it’s too late for the comic book store. I can’t think of much else more embarrassing than that,” Rae muses but I ignore her. She’ll never share my affinity for a well-crafted graphic novel.

  Jared nods twice before giddiness washes over his face. “Oh, my God! You scandalous woman! You’re someone’s booty call!” He points and draws all kind of stares and chuckles from the strangers waiting along with us.

  “No! Nothing like that.” I shake my head more to defend my innocence to the eavesdroppers now fully tuned in to our conversation.

  “Just say whatever it is, because we won’t let you go until you do.” Jared blocks my view of the street. I step closer to the curb to look for my bus but he only shuffles in front of me.

  “Fine.” I place one hand on his chest and peer around his body. I don’t see the approaching city wheels, but according to the monitor overhead and the scrolling schedule update, my bus is arriving so I need to be quick. I don’t put it past Jared to physically hold me back from catching my ride. When he wants gossip, he’s like a hound. Relentless until you give up or give in. “So, you remember the bouncer from the bar on Friday . . .”

  He whistles and steps back from the curb. “Damn, girl. It is a booty call. I so hate you right now.”

  “No! It’s nothing like that. He’s teaching me self-defense. At a gym off Taylor Street. South Side.”

  “This late at night? Seems shady.” Rae’s brow crinkles with her disapproval.

  I shake my head. “No, we’re bartering actually. Private training for web design.”

  “Is that safe, Mia? Do you even know this guy?” Rae tries again and I appreciate that she looks out for me. Her worried frown causes a sliver of anxiety to work its way into my mind. I don’t know Matt. Not really. He could be some creepy perv or psycho murderer.

  “It’s fine. Really. At least, I assumed it was until you said something. Now I’m not so sure.”

  Jared pats my back. “It’s all good, Kitten. If he tries anything, call me. Or maybe you’d rather let him?” His brows rise, daring me to argue.

  “Stop it.” I shake my head because that’s ridiculous. Sure, Matt’s attractive in a muscly manly-man way. If you go for that sort of thing. But I don’t. I want so much more from a relationship than good looks and a body made for physical endurance. Besides, I don’t do random hookups or one night stands. Not after last time.

  “Mia’s got the hots for muscle man,” Jared sing songs and I look down the street again before checking my phone. God damn, this bus is taking forever!

  Rae’s eyes light up and she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet. “Oh, my God! This is perfect! Halloween is next month. We can finally go Marvel! Please make him be Thor. Please, pretty please.” Her hands clasp together and she resorts to begging.

  “You guys are ridiculous. I’m not dating the man. I’m trying to learn how to defend myself the next time some stranger decides to put his hands on me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mia. I’m proud of you. I think that’s awesome.” Rae bumps her shoulder against Jared’s to urge him to speak.

  He rolls his eyes before capturing me in one of his bear hugs. “I’m proud of you too, Kitten.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jared steps back and eyes me in a way only he can. He’s searching for a tell. To see if I’m into Matt, but even though we’ve been best friends for years I’m especially talented in hardening my feelings until they no longer exist. Sure, Matt’s hot, but there’s nothing for us. We don’t have anything in common and I’m not even interested. Before Jared asks another question, the public transportation gods shine down upon me and I’m literally saved by the bus.

  “I give you two weeks. Three, tops.” Jared’s smug grin pulls wide.

  Totally confused, I shake my head and bug out my eyes.

  “Before the sexy man takes you to bed, or you take him. Either way. It’s happening.”

  “You’re delusional.” I flip him the bird and climb aboard the bus before it heads off without me.

  Inside South Side Gym my gut churns with a nervous energy that teeters between fear of making a complete ass of myself and plain excitement from trying something new and so far outside my comfort zone. I’m not an athletic girl; it’s just not my thing. But watching the advanced group out on the mats wrapping up their training makes fighting look really cool. If I can learn a tenth of what they know, I have no doubt I’ll take any asshole to the ground if the opportunity presents itself again.

  My search finds Matt immediately and my belly flutters. What? It’s purely lust. He’s a mountain of masculine energy, completely in control of his movements. Fast and quick, but light on his feet, too. He’s working with a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, and in addition to making everything look easy, he’s extremely patient, walking him through the movements again and again until the kid gets it just right. When he does, the crowd of about a dozen or so fighters gathered around cheer along with Matt. At their applause, Matt’s gaze lifts to find mine from where I stand near the entrance. His lips widen with a smile that stretches across his face and he holds up one finger, signaling for me to wait.

  “That’s enough for tonight. Get some good rest and I’ll see you all back here tomorrow.”

  The group responds with choruses of, “Sounds good, Coach,” and “Yes, Coach,” in their deep voices. Several of the men take off, but a few linger as they pull on warmer clothing and pack up their bags. I take this moment to unzip my hoodie, the temperature in this space much warmer than I remember it being yesterday. Shoving it inside my bag, I walk closer to where Matt’s talking with one of his fighters.

  “Just keep at it, Mase. Be patient with the process.”

  “But I’m ready now, Coach.”

  “Ready for what? Some underground fight that might yield a couple hundred bucks and maybe a little street cred until they match you against someone bigger and better. Then you get your ass kicked so bad you aren’t able to train for a few months? That all you want? Dream bigger, Mason. You’re good enough. You just need more time. I promise when you’re ready, I’ll get you in the right fight. One that’s legal. One that leads you to the UFC.” He clasps the kid on the shoulder and walks toward me.

  Nerves bubble up inside at his approach. The shirt he’s wearing is one that molds his chest and arms so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t rip when he flexes. Or is he flexing now? It’s difficult to tell. His muscles bulge and strain with the fluidity of each step he takes.

  “Sorry, one more minute.” His hand brushes across my forearm.

  My breath catches at the touch. Stupid body. I hiss out my nerves with a whoosh of air, but Matt’s not near enough to notice. He jogs over to one of the guys heading out.

  “Hey, Ricky. Hold up a sec.”

  The young man turns, his face falling to a frown at Matt’s presence. “Haven’t seen him, Coach.”

  “At all? What’ve you heard?”

  Ricky chews on his plump lower lip a moment, his gaze flicking between the door and Matt. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

  “That bad?” Matt runs his hands over the top of his head and grabs at the knot holding his hair back. “Shit.�
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  “Yeah, ’fraid so. Word is, he got into some trouble.”

  Matt’s eyes widen and concern etches in his brow. “What? Why? He’s not selling—”

  Ricky shakes his head. “Not that I know of. But he made a deal with the wrong people and couldn’t come through. If you want, I can go over there . . .”

  “No, I don’t want you involved. I’ll stop by his mom’s tomorrow. He still staying there?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Thanks, Ricky. You okay getting home?”

  “Riding in style, Coach. The city bus loves me.”

  “I bet it does, man. Stay safe.” Matt pats the young man on the back and walks him to the door, then locks it behind him. The gym that moments ago felt warm and full is now empty and sterile. Even Matt’s footfalls seem to reverberate from the floors and walls as he stalks toward me. His lips disappear beneath the scruff of his beard as he mashes them together, and his forehead crinkles with his frown.

  “Is now not a good time? Should we reschedule?”

  “No. Sorry about that. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” He shakes his head and his face transforms into a friendly grin. “I’m glad you came, Mia. How you feeling? Ready to train?”

  I have to fight the urge to return his smile, and those damn nerves are back, skittering across my skin. I shrug instead. “As much as I’ll ever be. Is this okay? I didn’t think to wear workout clothes.” Our office allows for an extremely casual dress code except for special meetings, and until I stepped inside I hadn’t considered bringing more than my T-shirt and jeans.

  Matt’s gaze travels over my outfit, his grin still in place, and I hate how my body lights up with the perusal. “Totally fine. Though kick off the shoes before stepping on the mats.”

  “Got it.” I unzip my boots and tuck them with my bag along the wall before following him to an open space in the gym.

  “Okay, so have you ever done hand to hand combat?”

  “No. Not really.” I shake my head, my grin pulling up with my next words. “Unless you count sticking a steel rod through a walking corpse’s brain.”