Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 2 of 3 (McDaniels Brothers 6) Read online

  That and about what a big, fat coward I was.

  “And stop dipping forward like that,” I snapped. “It’s going to put you off balance and Willie will knock you into next Tuesday.”

  Matty lowered his hands and stepped away from Bash to lean on the red ropes that separated us. “You forget to eat breakfast this morning or something, Red?” he asked, the cocky smile on his lips belying the frown furrowing his brow.

  “I ate,” I muttered, and tossed the book on grappling techniques I’d been reading into my bag before facing him again. “Egg and cheese sandwich and a yogurt. Why?” I could feel my cheeks heating under the weight of his gaze.

  “Because you’ve been acting like a starving bear after a winter of hibernating for two weeks now, that’s why. Want to tell me what’s up your ass?”

  “Okay, that’s my cue,” Bash said, and stepped out of the ring with a half-grin. He swiped his forearm over his sweaty black hair and headed toward the stairs. “I’m not interested in getting involved in your twisted, marital-type spats. If Olivia comes back, tell her I’m in the shower.”

  Matty didn’t break eye contact with me or respond to Bash, so I didn’t either.

  By the time we were alone, I was trembling. I couldn’t even say why. It wasn’t fear. There was nothing Matty would ever do to me that I wasn’t dying for him to do. It wasn’t nerves either. It was more like a vibration. The pull toward him was so strong and my body had been denied for so long, it was literally vibrating with the need to get nearer.

  When he climbed out of the ring and moved toward the bench like a predator tracking its prey, my pulse clamored so wildly, it was a wonder it didn’t just explode.

  “Seriously, Kayla. What gives?”

  His green eyes drilled into mine and I tried not to notice the contours of his sweat-slicked chest begging for my touch.

  “Nothing.” I lifted my chin and straightened my shoulders back, suddenly filled with the inane urge to seem taller and in charge. “I’m just trying to help you. That’s my job.”

  “No. Your job is to manage me. Felix is my trainer and he’ll be back in a few days. You know he’ll get on me about all these little things you’re nitpicking about. So I’ll ask you one more time.” He tugged off his gloves and tossed them to the ground in front of me. “What’s going on with you?”

  What could I possibly have said? That I wanted him so bad it was keeping me awake at night? That I still didn’t know how to make myself come, and every night since we’d been together had been a form of torture now that I knew what it was…knew it was right there and I couldn’t get to it? That I even missed waking up next to him? And that none of it mattered because I was still keeping secrets from him and if he knew the truth, he wouldn’t want me anyway?

  I opened my mouth, ready to compound lies with more lies out of sheer self-preservation when the gym door swung open.

  “Hey guys,” Olivia called, striding toward us with a grin. She had a couple grocery bags hanging off each arm and jerked her head toward the door. “Matty, can you get the rest for me? I’ve got three more in the trunk.”

  I looked away first and he stepped back.

  “Sure thing.”

  He headed out for the parking lot and Olivia stopped, her gaze flickering between me and Matty’s retreating form.

  She let out a low whistle. “Damn. What did I walk into? Were you guys about to fuck or fight?”

  I shook my head and willed my face to stay as blank as possible. “Neither. Just arguing over some training suggestions. Regular stuff.”

  Olivia and I weren’t friends. We were friendly, but I barely knew her. We’d bumped into each other a handful of times at the gym and we’d made small talk. No more, no less. It was nothing personal. More like we were running on different schedules.

  Now, though, she had this expression on her face that I’d only seen in movies. Mischievous, with her body angled in like she was waiting on a secret. The “let’s engage in some girl talk” vibe poured off her. And frankly, it was freaking me out.

  I’d heard it a thousand times from my mother before she’d died. Other women aren’t your friends. They’re your competition. It wasn’t that I agreed with her so much. I’d just never seen a positive feminine relationship in real life growing up, so I had no frame of reference. Like two women dressed in over-sized cable-knit sweaters, sitting in some cafe on a rainy day, cupping thick, clay mugs filled with piping hot coffee and “sharing” the way they did on TV. The concept was as alien to me as jazz music.

  I didn’t doubt that it was good. I just didn’t get it.

  “Well, it sure looked like something was going on to me,” Olivia said with a snort. “I’ve been watching you guys and I told Bash the other night, seems like you have a strong effect on each other.” The teasing light faded from her blue eyes and she set the bags she’d been holding on the bench next to me. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it? I might be able to help. Wasn’t so long ago that Bash and I were starting out, and it was an uphill battle for us too.”

  I’d heard the basics from Matty at one point or another when he’d told me about the deal he’d made with Mickey. Olivia had been with an abusive guy who was also pretty vindictive and had gotten Bash arrested at some point. Nearly ruined his career.

  As much as I felt for her and appreciated the gesture, there was no way I was about to confide in this semi-stranger about what I was going through right now.

  We weren’t the same.

  She knew nothing about me or my life and, maybe it was the Kappa Lambda Lambda t-shirt she was wearing and I was being judge-y, but something told me she couldn’t relate to a girl whose mom was a druggie hooker and whose dad was a gangster.

  “It’s okay, really. We’re just both used to being the boss, is all. It will be fine.” I added a smile because I didn’t want her to think I was a total bitch. “Thanks, though.”

  To her credit, she didn’t press me. She scooped up her bags and jerked her chin toward the upstairs apartment. “No problem. If you’re hungry, I’m making fish tacos for lunch, so feel free to come up and eat.”

  She left right as Matty came through the doors with the rest of the bags. I stood and gestured upstairs, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “She went to make fish tacos. You guys are going to be having lunch soon, so I’m going to head out.”

  His eyes narrowed to twin laser beams and he stepped toward me, until we were nearly toe to toe. “We were having a conversation. Now you’re going to up and run. I didn’t take you for a chicken, Red.”

  His words added a shot of anger to the already volatile cocktail of emotions brewing inside me. “Your brother’s girlfriend was just grilling me about our ‘relationship’.” To my own disgust, I punctuated the word with air quotes, but I was on a roll and wouldn’t be stopped now. “And you keep bugging me, asking me what’s wrong. I’m here to work. To get you ready for this fight, and I just don’t feel like being interrogated, okay?”

  It was then that the smell hit me. Clean sweat and soap and Matty. A scent I had last gotten a whiff of when he was in my bed. I tried to hang on to my outrage, to cling to the manufactured anger I’d worked up just to make it out of the room without showing my hand. But then his gaze drifted to my mouth and I couldn’t stop myself from licking my lips. His pupils dilated, his nostrils flared and his strong throat muscles worked as he swallowed hard.

  “You want to know what I think?” he asked, the grit in his voice scraping over me like sandpaper, lighting up every nerve-ending in its path.

  No. My brain screamed the word, but I couldn’t speak it. I was using every ounce of energy I had not to close the distance between us, plaster myself to his half-naked body like a coat of paint and just breathe him in.

  “I don’t think you’re mad at me at all,” he continued softly. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re mad at yourself.” The bags he was holding hit the floor with a thud and then his hands were on my hips. “Why is that, Red? Becaus
e you still want me?” He jerked me closer until my lower half was flush with his, and I barely held back a gasp.

  Not trusting my voice to hold up with the riot of emotions coursing through me, I shook my head.

  He tipped his face lower until the minty wash of his breath bathed my cheek in a whisper. “No, you don’t want me? Or no, you don’t want to answer my question?”

  “Th-the first one.” My response might have actually held some weight if my body didn’t stage a coup at that exact moment and grind itself against his. The move sent a white-hot blast of need through me, so strong my legs almost gave out.

  “I can make it go away, you know,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine as he spoke. “That ache.” He released one hip and slid a hand between us, curling it between my legs and squeezing me through my jeans.

  “We can’t,” I whispered, covering his hand with my own, intending to pull his away but not quite getting there. He covered my pubic bone now, using the heel of his palm to massage the sensitive flesh there, and it felt like heaven.

  “Why?” His voice was so low and melodic, it only added to the feeling that I was in some sort of sexually charged trance that I never wanted to wake up from. “Why can’t we?”

  “Matty? Are you bringing up those avocados or w-?”

  I jerked back and turned to see Olivia frozen on the staircase, halfway down, eyes wide.

  “Sorry, my bad. Carry on,” she mumbled, slinking back up the way she’d come.

  I turned back to face Matty, face aflame. “I’ve really got to go.” I should’ve headed for the door then, but instead, I looked down and couldn’t help but notice the massive erection tenting his gym pants before I managed to tear my gaze away.

  “Does that make you feel better?” he asked, his green eyes searching mine. “To know that I’m suffering too?” I shook my head slowly, but he pressed on. “Because I am. I think about you constantly.” The admission seemed to pain him, because the half-smile he gave me was anything but cheerful. “About the way your body felt. About how well we fit together. About all the ways I want to make you come.”

  I knew how he felt. It was bad for me too. And knowing that I could find out more about this elusive orgasm any time I wanted if I just picked up the phone haunted my nights. But the emotional stuff was worse. Wanting to tell Matty the truth. That this fight with Willie Martin he was training for hardly mattered. Even if he won it, and the next one, his fate was sealed. Mickey was scheduling him for a fight with New York middleweight, Diego Ricon. And unless he wanted to start at square one with his debt again or worse, Mickey was going to force him throw the match.

  I knew I couldn’t let that happen, but in the weeks since I’d learned the news, I hadn’t been able to work out a way to stop it either. And until I did, Matty couldn’t know. He’d only make things worse. Mickey hated him, now more than ever, and if I had any hope of convincing my father to change his mind, I had to do it my way in my time.

  Which meant more deceit. And I fucking hated it.

  “You already know why. Want I should lay it out for you again? Mickey is my father. You hate him. He isn’t exactly a fan of yours.” I ticked each off with a finger and continued, “Not to mention we have to work together, and you need to prep for a fight.”

  I squared my shoulders and bent to pick up my purse and laptop bag, but he circled his fingers around my wrist and tugged me upright to face him again.

  “It’s none of Mickey’s god damn business what I do in my private life. And he’s your father, but you’re a grown woman. He doesn’t own you. As for us working together and getting ready for the Martin fight? Both of those things would be easier if we were fucking.”

  I rolled my eyes and made for my purse again but his voice stopped me cold.

  “I need it, Red. It’s driving me out of my mind. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. And whether you admit it or not, you don’t seem to be doing any better. Why are we doing this to ourselves?”

  “So…what are you suggesting?” My heart was pounding so loud, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hear his answer over the sound.

  “We act as manager and fighter, but then, once a week, we fuck each other's brains out. It will keep us both clear the rest of the time because then we can put all our energy toward that night. I promise to keep my hands to myself the rest of the time. What do you think?”

  What did I think? I thought that it was insane. Sex wasn't some commodity to be traded in for good behavior or a line item in a contract. It meant something to me.

  But then, so did Matty.

  If I did this, there was no turning back. There was a very real chance I’d tumble head over heels, mad-crazy in love with this boy, and that was a terrible, terrible idea. And still, how could I say no? How could I turn away the chance to be in his arms again and again? To feel that wild rush only his touch had ever brought?

  “The suspense is killing me, Red.”

  He gave me that crooked smile, but his expression was so intense, I knew he was telling the truth. He was as invested as I was in my answer. Maybe he didn't want to admit it, but Matty McDaniels was invested in me. That realization was enough to push me over the edge. Once a week. Surely I could protect my heart if we kept it to once a week?

  “Okay.”

  He slumped back, pinching his eyes closed, and blew out a sigh. “Oh, thank fucking God.”

  A laugh bubbled in my chest, releasing the tightness that had been there. I don't know what we were both so happy about. Matty was still bent over a barrel with the whole Mickey situation, and I, like some sacrificial virgin, had just hurdled myself off a cliff and was plummeting head first toward a pit of pain and misery, but there we were. The two of us grinning like a couple of idiots because we didn't have to walk away from each other just yet.

  “Mickey can't know. No one can know.”

  His eyes blazed with anger at that, but he tipped his head in a curt nod. “Fine. But I have a rule too, then.” His face went tense and he reached out to trace my bottom lip with his thumb. “Nobody else.” The breath caught in my chest at the heat in his gaze. “Do you hear me, Red? While we are together, whether it’s a month or a year, there's nobody else. I won't have another guy touching you.”

  Not exactly a declaration of love, but it warmed my insides nonetheless. “You either,” I said, when I finally managed to get words past my dry throat.

  “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

  “And we can’t let it take over our lives. You have work to do. Serious work. So do I.” But that was only partly true. I couldn’t tell him the whole of it. That I knew, if we spent too much time together, losing him would kill me. It had to be a treat. A stolen moment. The second it became my norm he would become my world and I couldn’t have that. Not with Matty, not with anyone.

  “Okay. Birth control? I’m fine using condoms if you are.”

  The question should’ve been awkward, but instead it made things feel more right. I knew all the things this wasn’t, but the fact that he wanted to make sure I was protected mattered more than he could ever know. Some guys my age wouldn’t have even broached the topic or cared, thinking it was the girl’s job to figure it out.

  “I’ve…already got something in place so we can skip the condoms if we’re going to be exclusive.”

  He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, then it’s settled.”

  We both went quiet for a long, tense moment, until I stepped back, suddenly desperate for some space. “I have to get back to the warehouse.” I’d just agreed to something that was likely going to be the best and worst thing I’d ever done, and it was already starting to hit me. I wasn’t about to change my mind, but I needed some alone time to freak the fuck out. “I have a bunch of calls to make and-”

  “When?”

  I didn’t have to ask what he meant because every nerve ending in my body had been blaring that question on repeat since he’d first floated the idea.

 
“Saturday?” It was still three days away, but it was a payroll week and I did all the books for Mickey. I’d be working late every night except that one, which meant less time with Matty if we did it any sooner. Self-doubt crept in as I realized I was setting a time for my first sex date. Maybe he didn’t want to waste his weekend on me…

  “Unless you’re busy-”

  “Definitely not busy. Saturday it is.” He picked up the grocery bags and winked at me. “Better make sure you eat your Wheaties that day, Red. Because it’s about to get real.”

  My face went white hot as I scooped up my stuff and practically ran for the door, his low chuckle chasing behind me.

  About to get real? If it got any realer, we could start our own show.

  The Real Fuck-ups of Boston.

  And in spite of my almost euphoric excitement, something told me season one was going to be a doozy…

  Chapter Three

  Matty

  I stared out the window, unable to look away until she drove away, and then I stayed in that same spot for another five minutes until my hard-on subsided.

  Olivia and her tacos could wait. I had bigger things going on for the moment. I’d just ignored every sensible thought in my head and did something totally stupid. And it didn’t stop at stupid. Plotting to sleep with Red on the sly was also short-sighted, risky and foolhardy.

  In spite of all that, I was happier than I’d been in days. In fact, I almost wished I hadn’t already done the lion’s share of my training for the day, because my muscles hummed with unspent energy.

  I snatched up the grocery bags again and made for the entrance to the gym, flipping the “out to lunch” sign over. As much as I wished it was different and had hoped the gym would be a huge success, so far it was more of an anvil around my neck. Most days, eight or ten guys would straggle through who had been members long before I ever got the place.

  The plan had been to expand. Get some new equipment, advertise. But trying to stretch a buck far enough to care for myself at nineteen and both my brothers so they could finish high school hadn't left much in the way of dollars to stretch. The one good thing was, the gym gave us all a place to train and work toward breaking out as fighters. I guess I had to be grateful for that, at least.