1. Doll Face

Dominic

            I should have felt bad about it, but Jax had demanded that he be my sparring partner, so as I let my weight pin him down, I didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy. He bucked his hips, screaming his frustrations. “You done yet, pussy boy?” I taunted. His anger would make him stronger; so, since I’m such an upstanding citizen, I’d help him out by pissing him off more.

            “Fuck you, Nico. Get off me!”

            “Get me off you, pretty boy.” Nothing got him riled up like us commenting on his looks. He was like a girl—on steroids. I slapped at his face to get him going some more.

            “Come on, Jax! Get the fuck up before you mess up your makeup,” Van yelled in mock outrage, banging his fist against the mat. “This is downright fucking disgraceful!”

            I laughed and smacked his face some more as Cade, Law, and East joined in.  If he didn’t get me off him soon, he’d never live this down and the reality of it was he’d never get me off unless I let him. He barely made it into the middleweight class for UFC fighters and I was borderline too big for the heavyweights. I tried to give him an out when he first suggested I spar against him instead of my regular partner. He refused to back down and threw the first punch, so I gave in. He let out a frustrated growl and bucked his hips again.

            “How can someone with such a strong name be so damn weak?” Cade called. “I was thinking about having Petra name our son after you, but dammit I’m taking that shit back! This is a fucking travesty!”

            Petra, Cade’s—girlfriend?—was pregnant with his son. How he let that happen was beyond me, considering how psychotic she could be, but pretty soon, we’d have a tiny warrior in the mix. We were excited about the baby, Petra, not so much.

            “Shut the fuck up,” Jax screamed. He managed to slip an elbow through my guard, but I caught it before he could use it and twisted it away from me. He let out a grunt and glared.

            “Watch those elbows, doll face. You’ll need them when it’s time to clean up after our dinner tonight,” Law shouts.

            “Fuck! Why are you so damn huge?” Jax grumbled as he tried to twist his body lose.

            “He’s not huge, you’re tiny and precious and just so goddamn cute. Now that I’m thinking about it, this isn’t even fair. Nico, you should not be sparring with girls,” East barely got out between laughs.

            We made for a really shitty group of friends.

            “I hate y’all. I swear I hate y’all,” Jax declared before reluctantly tapping out.

            I bounced to my feet and held out a hand to help him up. Still glaring he slapped it away before rolling to his feet and stalking towards the locker room. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t be a sore loser. If you get mad like this and storm off, who’s going to do our laundry this weekend?” I called after him. He tossed his middle finger up over his shoulder without looking back.

            “Too much, Nico,” Mark, my trainer, said.

            If he meant to sound serious, the snickering canceled it out. I turned to where he stood ready to call him out, but I felt¼weird. My skin tingled and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Turning my head, I scanned the crowd. About 90 percent of the people in here were watching us though, so it made no sense to single out this feeling of being watched. None of the gazes set set me off, but I couldn’t knock the feeling and that bothered me.

            “For real this time, Nico. Joey, put him through the motions.” I heard Mark speaking, but continued to scan the crowd until Joey drew my attention with a punch to the gut. Bastard.

                                                                   ***

            As I stared at the text on my phone, I hummed along to Stay by Tyrese. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to dwell on the fact that Tyrese should go back to his roots and make more music like this or that Janae had randomly sent me a text saying she missed me. That’s it. She missed me. Nothing telling me where she was, exactly why she left, nothing.  If Jax were here, he’d snatch my phone and block her number before going into a spiel about why she wasn’t good for me. Mother hen type, that one. I knew she wasn’t good for me. That was why I never tried to find her after she left. That didn’t stop me from wanting answers though. It also didn’t stop this from fucking up my night. I shook my head and tossed the phone onto my desk. This definitely isn’t a night to dwell on ghosts and Tyrese ain’t been right since that internet crying fiasco. I glanced at my watch, before deciding I’d have the guys meet up for some drinks. It was only nine at night and, while technically, it was my night to stay on site, anybody coming this late already had a membership and a key fob. I didn’t really need to be here.

            I shut down the computer and grabbed my bag before slipping my headphones on and heading for the door. Van was the first to respond to my text invitation with “fuck yeah, dibs on all the groupies you turn away, broke dick bastard.” Fantastic.

Law was quick to follow with “whosoever is unable to get a fully functional erection is buying.”

The rest of them chimed in with asshole responses and by the time I made it to the door, I was seriously wondering why I stayed friends with any of them. One of the answers flooded my thoughts even though I tried to block it. Janae. We were supposed to get married. Instead, I was left with a fucking “Dear John” letter saying she was sorry. Nothing else, just that she was sorry. Straight to the point, just like her text. The world’s shittiest breakup letter. That day reminds me of why I keep idiots as friends.

The venue was booked, food catered, people had come on the special day for a show. Instead of a blushing bride coming down the aisle to “The Wedding March,” our guests got five men coming down the aisle while dancing to Meeting in My Bedroom by Silk, Feenin’ by Jodeci, Bump n Grind by R. Kelly, and even fucking Partition by Beyoncé—Jax, of course. My poor Nana was scandalized, but that didn’t stop her from joining in to throwing money at Jax as he jerked and grinded his hips to the bass filled beat of Partition.

The night before my wedding was the last time I’d been able to have an erection that actually worked—and by work I meant have a happy ending. We’d gone to a strip club and things had gotten heated. I’d done what any sensible 27-year-old groom surrounded by strippers would have done: rub one out in the men’s room of the strip club. Classy, I know. That was about eleven months ago. Since then, I’d rarely had an erection and finishing the job had been nonexistent. I guessed being stood up at the altar would do that to a guy, fuck up his psyche or some shit like that. And being the reasonably logical man that I was, I stuffed that can of worms deep down and refused to speak about it

As I locked the door Tyrese and one of The Isley Brothers extolled the virtues of having a girl who loved them. Why the fuck did Tyrese ever think it was a good idea to team up with Tank and Ginuwine? Something small and soft touched my forearm and I barely resisted the urge to jump a mile and scream like a banshee, because what the fuck!! Looking down, I saw a hand. Long, slender fingers with bright coral nail polish, that contrasted sharply against smooth mahogany skin. I followed an arm covered by a red puffer jacket to a face with big chocolate brown eyes, stretched wide as they look up at me, a small nose, and luscious lips. Long, dark lashes and arched eyebrows surrounded complimented the eyes. They were beautiful. Haunted, but beautiful and against my better judgment I wanted to know what caused the sorrow in that gaze. A purple beanie covered her head, but short black hair peeked out from one side.

Those luscious lips moved and I remembered I still had my headphones on, but I also remember that since Janae, I hate being touched. I should really go talk to someone about these issues I had, but I’m a guy, so¼ I glanced back down at the hand that’s still on my forearm and she quickly pulled away before dropping her gaze. I slipped my headphones off just as she spoke again.

            “I’m sorry. I was trying to ask you about the gym, but I knew you couldn’t hear me.”

            And Junior decided he liked her fucking voice. Soft and sweet and conveying absolute innocence, even with her mumbling like she was scared out of her mind. I could contribute the hesitance to my size, but she was fairly tall for a chick, roughly 5’ 8” at least. Not to mention that chicks seemed to be more turned on by my size than intimidated. Being bigger somehow equated that I could protect them. Not her though. I expected her to bolt at any moment. She hadn’t made eye contact since I initially turned to her and she fidgeted like a fiend. I took in her clothes, which look like they could be expensive, and noticed that she was skinny as hell. No hips, no ass, no tits, just slim and athletic. So why in the hell was Junior stepping up to full throttle? The icing on the cake? I felt beads of pre-cum. Eleven months dry as the Sahara and this timid little boy-girl was unmanning me. That was totally unacceptable. Did I just say totally?This girl was destroying my vibe.

“What the fuck are you doing creeping around here this late at night?”

            She squeaked. Literally jumped half a foot in the air and squeaked like a scared little mouse. Granted, I did snap at her, but come on. Really? I glanced around the parking lot and the building. She couldn’t be out here by herself, but there was no one else and I didn’t even see a car. When I looked back at her, she was hugging herself and slowly backing away. I reached out and grabbed her by both arms and she whimpered, her face a mask of terror. The fuck?

            “Please,” she begged. “I’m sorry. I...I only wanted to ask about the gym. I’ll leave. I swear it.”