June 12
Liam
“READY TO SPAR, old man?” I asked the next night as I walked up behind my dad and punched his shoulder.
He turned around from where he was helping a member perfect his technique, and raised an eyebrow to match the smirk on his face. “We’ll see if you’re still calling me that when I’m done with you. Go do something to warm up while I finish here.”
I nodded and tore off my shirt as I crossed the gym. After last night, this was what I needed. I needed time to clear my head, and I needed to focus on not getting my ass handed to me by my dad instead of replaying my night with Kennedy over and over.
My eyes automatically drifted over to the drink station, but I already knew I wouldn’t find the girls there. I’d waited until they’d been off work for a couple hours to show up to fight tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow like I normally did. Because ever since I’d gotten off work, it’d taken all my focus to keep myself from going to their condo to try to talk to Moon. I knew I would eventually give up and show up at her door if I didn’t do something to get my mind off her soon, and the gym would do exactly that.
“You ready?” Dad asked fifteen minutes later as he pulled off his shirt and climbed into the ring.
I glanced over at him and gave him a calculating stare. “I’m not going easy on you just because you might break a hip.”
He laughed. It didn’t matter that he was in his forties, just like it didn’t matter that he’d stopped fighting for a living over twenty years ago. He was still unbeatable, and he and I both knew he could easily take me down with just a few hits.
“You want to tell me what has you in such a bad mood?” he asked when we began.
“Kennedy.” Okay, maybe the gym wouldn’t get my mind off her. I took a few swings and dodged one of his, and grunted when he landed a kick to my ribs.
He blocked one of my hits. “And what about her has you showing up a day early?” After a few more swings, he took a few steps back and sent me a condescending smile. “It can’t be because she turned you down, because she’s been doing that for more than a week now, son.”
I glared and closed the distance before I threw another hit. “Yes and no. We kissed.”
He stumbled back when I kicked his calf, and bent over laughing. “You’re here to fight, looking pissed off at the world, just because you two kissed?”
I straightened and threw my arms out to the side. “She fucking shut down again after. The entire night she was completely different from how she’s been since I first talked to her here. It was good; everything about last night was good. And then a couple minutes in, it’s like she remembered that she’d been pushing me back before, and did it again. She didn’t say a word the entire ride back to her place.”
One eyebrow rose, and for a second, he actually looked sorry . . . until he spoke. “Maybe she was thinking about giving you another chance, but once she kissed you sober, she realized that last year was a fluke and decided to bolt.”
“Are you serious right now? That’s really what you’re going to go with? That’s your great fatherly advice? To try to tell me that my kissing is what had her shutting down again last night?”
“Looks like it’s a possibility.” He sucked air through his teeth and shook his head, but his mouth started twitching up into a smile, and soon his shoulders were shaking from the laugh he was trying so hard to hold in. When my face fell, he barked out a laugh and kicked out my legs from underneath me. Leaning over me once I was lying on my back, he grinned knowingly. “You want my honest opinion? I think she has a very real reason for trying to hold you back, one she’s not ready for you to know—if she’ll ever be ready for you to know. But from what I’ve seen, she’s a lot like your mom. She’s feisty. My bet is you just have to figure out the right buttons to push for her to completely open up to you. If I’m right, she’ll be trouble . . . but she’ll sure as shit be worth it.”
Accepting his hand to help me up off the ground, I got ready to go again. “I’m already starting to figure that out.”
ONCE MY DAD and I were done fighting and had talked awhile longer, I grabbed some food and drove over to the tattoo parlor where I got all my work done. Walking in, I headed over to Brian, a friend of my parents’. He was practically family and I’d always gone to him whenever anything happened in my life. But I hadn’t seen him since I’d found out Kennedy was in California, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he somehow found out and got pissed because I’d failed to mention anything.
“What’s up, Little Chachi?” Brian called out when he saw me.
I rolled my eyes but smiled at the nickname he and his wife had passed on from my father to me.
“You lookin’ to get something? I’m sure I’ve got a good hour or so before the weekend crowd starts pouring in.”
“Not today.” Grabbing a burrito out of the bag I was holding, I tossed it in his direction.
“Ah, yes. Gift from the gods. How did you know I was dying of starvation?” he asked as he opened up the foil.
“Because you’re always dying of starvation.” I pulled a chair into his station and groaned as I ran my hands over my face.
Brian clucked his tongue. “Ah, one of those visits. Good thing I’m not stoned. I need to be clearheaded for this.”
“Shut up, Brian.”
He laughed and took a massive bite of the burrito, then nodded once and spoke around the food. “Talk at me.”
“You might want to swallow the food before I tell you this.”
His brow creased as he studied me, and after a few seconds, he went back to chewing. “Done,” he grunted, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“No, not at all. I just have a feeling you’re about to start yelling as soon as I tell you what’s going on, and I’d rather not have to call an ambulance for you when you choke on the food.”
“Makes me all warm and fuzzy to know you wouldn’t try to save me.” Brian set the burrito on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’m sure it does,” I said with a grin, but it quickly fell. With a deep breath in, I asked, “Do you—”
“You get her flowers and beg her to forgive your stupid ass.”
My eyebrows rose. “What the fuck, Brian? I barely got two words out!”
“This about a girl?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then you get some motherfucking flowers, and you go to her and beg her to forgive your dumb ass. There. Heart-to-heart done. Now I’m still starving, and this little piece of heaven is begging me to eat it.” Grabbing the burrito again, he took another bite and smiled through it.
“How did you even know it had to do with a girl?” I asked, somewhat amazed that Brian of all people could have guessed that.
“Because I’ve seen that exact same tortured face before.” His eyes darted to the side, and he swallowed thickly. With a slight shake of his head, he mumbled, “I still can’t believe how much you look like him now.”
“I know.” I sighed, but couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was seeing when he looked at me. Because even though pictures helped tell a story, they would never be the same as the real thing, and the guy he was talking about had died before I was born.