smile before she sighs, “I was so nervous.”
“Didn’t look it.” I watch as Maxx lets her gorgeous smile slip across her lips. “In fact, it looked like you were made to strut around like that.”
“Yeah, right.” Her lack of self confidence has always been baffling to me, but the thing I’m secretly most thankful for.
She hasn’t had many boyfriends nor has she had many dates thanks to her inability to see how fucking hot she is. She alos has a hard time believing that guys want a chick who is willing to do guy shit with them. Do not ask me how many potentials I have run off. I will not answer that question without a lawyer present.
“Speaking of, I got the job as Events Coordinator.”
“Congrats, Maximus!”
“Thanks.” Her simple shrug is followed by her rolling on her side to face me. “I have to keep up with the Ring Side Girl stuff for a few more fights though. Until we find a new one. I have complete creative control, plus I get to work with the new tech guy Frank hired on all the social media site decisions.”
The idea of seeing Maxx in skin tight outfits prancing around in front of me slowly causes my cock to grow. I roll over on my side to face her.
Maybe he’ll take the hint that he is not welcomed to the party. Doubt it. As far as he knows, he’s always welcomed to the party.
“You’re gonna be great at this, you know? This is what you’ve always wanted.”
“Well not exactly what I always wanted, but it is definitely a start. And the money,” she lets out a whistle. “More than I’ve ever made before.”
“Any idea what you want the next theme to be? Please not another color based one.”
“Nah. I’m thinking Rumble in the Jungle.”
“Chicks in skin tight leopard print shit?” I stroke my chin. “I can enjoy it.”
Me Tarzan. You Jane baby.
She slugs me in the shoulder and I pretend to wince in pain. “You can enjoy anything.”
“Just about. What can I say I’m easy.”
She hums and bites her bottom lip.
She always does that when there’s something she wants to say but is holding back. I know better than to push her to talk. We don’t do that to each other. We talk when we’re ready. End of the story.
“Can I ask you something Logan?”
“Anything. Except if Liz’s tits are real. You’re a chick. You should already know the answer.”
That’s not a myth right? Girl’s really can always tell when another chick’s tits are fake, right?
Her cringe makes me chuckle. Side stepping my comment, she props her face up on her hand. “You can’t fight forever Logan, so what are you gonna do when it’s over? What are you gonna do with your future?”
My face shifts unhappy with the topic. “Come on Maximus. You know for guys like me there is no future. There’s only now. This moment. That’s it.”
Her brown eyes begin searching my blues.
She wants a better answer. She wants me to tell her something like she reads in her bullshit girly romance novels. That when it’s all over, I’ll give it all up for her. That we’ll run away into the sunset or something. But that’s not gonna fucking happen. I’m not that guy.
And ladies could you please, for the sake of men everywhere, realize what you read is fiction for a reason. Guys who spout off romantic bullshit lines like that aren’t doing it for women, they do it for other men. Proven fact. Ask Luke.
“People change.”
“I don’t.”
“But if you do—”
“I won’t.”
Frustrated, she rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Goddamn it Logan. Fucking humor me.” The word fucking coming out of her mouth causes my cock to try to rise again.
Great. Just what this conversation needed. A third opinion.
“If you couldn’t fight another day and you had to pick something to do with your life, what would it be?”
My head flops back onto her pillow as I scratch the stubble on my face.
I don’t allow myself to daydream. Aside from the fact that it is a complete waste of