Hot and Cold Read online

  I had sense enough to not to unleash any of this on my baby sister, but just barely. I stormed upstairs to my bedroom and barred myself in. I paced and stewed and thought all the things I’d been fighting to ignore.

  Sean must have thought I was a complete idiot. What, just cause I didn’t grow up in a rough part of town, I couldn’t tell when I was being conned? Well, he had picked the wrong girlfriend to screw over.

  Girls might coo and caw over my delicate face and perfect mocha complexion now, but that was an altogether recent development in the life of Gabi.

  At least up until the beginning of high school, I’d been chubby and acned, with a mouth full of braces. Oh, plus most of my school was rich white kids. And rich kids were too smart to have their fun just shoving books out of your hand or calling you names to your face. No, they got their kicks out of making you think they were on your side for as long as they could.

  I would wind up showing up to parties that never happened, or find myself correcting right answers on my homework, or just get blamed for messes I didn’t create. I didn’t wise up quick, but I wised up hard and for good.

  Now, this boy wanted to tell me that he had an ‘opportunity’ at the gym? Oh, I believed the opportunity part, just not where he was getting it. Or from who.

  I grabbed my purse and my keys and rushed to my car.

  The city was dark and pebbled with red and neon lights as I drove through it. Sean’s condo was only a few miles away, but I had to get off the highway and stop at every damn traffic light.

  Someone was droning on about something on NPR, but I flicked off the radio and spent time practicing my monologue. I didn’t know exactly what was happening. I surely didn’t know why or what I had done. But I knew what I wanted to say.

  In fact, you could kinda sum up my thoughts in a few words: “How dare you?”

  If he wanted someone else, let her have him, but why couldn’t he be up front about it? Why did he have to go cold and let me be the one to get fired up?

  It seemed like hours had passed by the time I pulled up to his gated compound. I waited and followed a car in.

  The guy driving was a pudgy middle-aged white man who threw me glances as he got out, so I didn’t try walking in with him. No one has ever considered me threatening, but I probably looked something like Medusa at the moment. I didn’t want to risk being dragged out of here in cuffs before Sean showed up.

  After a couple minutes waiting by the lobby, a woman came out and held the door open for me. I thanked her and rode an empty elevator up to Sean’s flat. I mumbled through the speech I wanted to unleash when I saw his guilty face. As the elevator opened though, my thoughts seemed more jumbled than ever.

  I could hear his TV playing through his apartment door. Someone was laughing like mad at it. I waited a while, but couldn’t hear any woman’s laughter. Maybe the girl didn’t have a sense of humor.

  I gathered my breath and tightened my lips around the simple three word phrase. It suddenly hit me that this could be it. This could be the spinning, flaming end to these three months.

  My eyes suddenly felt very heavy, and I blinked until I was sure nothing filled them. Before I could change my mind, I knocked.

  “Coming,” a man called cheerfully. Footsteps squeaked toward the door. It unlatched and pulled back.

  A scruffy looking man stood in the gap, smiling widely at me. Even in the mute TV light, his eyes looked red. He had on an oversized Metallica T-shirt and jeans that barely clung to his waist.

  It was Sean’s friend.

  “Silvio?” I said.

  “Gabi!” he beamed. He threw his arms around me and shook me around a bit. For a tweedy stoner he was pretty damn strong.

  “Is Sean home?” I asked, trying to peer past.

  “Na, he’s at the gym. But come on, come in. I got food and soda.”

  “I actually, uh…” I couldn’t think of an excuse. It would be weird if I just left.

  Besides, Sean still wasn’t off the hook. Silvio must barely be able to sniff out reality over the haze of weed drifting out from the room. Sean could have told him he was just drafted into the Red Wings, and Silvio would have believed him.

  I sat down on the far side of the couch from Silvio. He offered me an unlit joint, a beer and a bag of Cheetos. I accepted the last two. We sat watching something on Carton Network for a while. Maybe it was the haze or the beer, but I started to chuckle a little.

  I caught myself and managed to repeat the mantra I’d brought on the way over. I read Sean’s text again, but it didn’t seem half that bad anymore.

  By the time the front door squeaked open later, the hellfire was out of my thoughts. I simply looked up and saw Sean standing dumbstruck in the doorway.

  “Gabi?” he said. “What are you doing?”

  Through lazy eyes, I took him all in. I noticed his grey t-shirt, damp down the center of his chest. The sweat that dribbled down his face. The long, gym bag he carried, which sagged at either end.

  “You were at the gym,” I said.

  “Yeah I was at the gym. I told you, right?”

  He dropped the bag at the door and stepped in, throwing an icy look at Silvio. His friend didn’t notice until he flicked the room light on.

  “Hey Sean,” he said. “When’d you get home?”

  “Dude, can you crash back at your house tonight?” Sean asked.

  Silvio looked at him with the ferocity of an owl, then at me. The light clicked on in his head.

  “Ah, ok. Gotcha. Sure, man, sure.”

  He flicked off the TV, gathered his goodies and headed out.

  “See ya, Gabi. Was fun.”

  “It was,” I said. “See you Silvio.”

  He winked and shut the door. Sean came over and sat right next to me. Heat washed off him in waves, thick with the scent of his exertion. I could almost see him in motion, all those little muscles working like a symphony of strength. My mind went white and I lost even my little flicker of irritation.

  “I’m real sorry I had to bail tonight,” Sean said, leaning in. “I know it’s a dick move, but John freaking Luvano came in. He’s a two time northeast regional champion and he offered to spar with me. I couldn’t pass that up. It doesn’t justify abandoning you, but I hope you see why I acted like such an idiot.”

  His hands were clasped and his eyes ducked, like he was praying for forgiveness. Maybe if I’d been waiting for him in the hall, it would have ended just there. But with my second-hand buzz, my thoughts flew wild. I remembered that I hadn’t flown here over a one-time thing.

  “I understand about tonight,” I said. “But tonight’s not the beginning of our problems.”

  It was just the sort of talk that made men groan, but Sean’s head dipped. “I know.”

  I cupped his cheek, rubbed that ridge of bone that made him look like a champion even outside the ring. “What’s going on? It’s not someone else, is it?”

  Sean chuckled and looked up. “Couple other people actually.”

  Just as my mouth got set to erupt, he sighed and looked off. “I lost my last two matches.”

  “What?”

  “Last week’s fight and the one before. I lost them both.”

  My mind stretched back. Two weeks ago was about when things started going south. But everything seemed ok when I talked to him those nights. “You said the fights went fine when I asked.”

  “Didn’t mean I won. I thought a loss was fine. Everyone lose one fight sooner or later, but then I lost the second. Rising stars don’t get to do that.”

  It all snapped into place. The suspicious hours at the gym. The distant look in his eyes even when we were together.

  “That’s where you’ve been,” I said, stroking his face. “Your mind never left the cage.”

  “Oh, it leaves there plenty.” He leaned into my touch. “But not to good places. It makes me wonder what I am without my championship belt. If my fists don’t get me places, I’m nothing but a drag on everyone around me.”
>
  He said ‘everyone,’ but his eyes made it clear he meant me. “What are you talking about?” I said. “Useless? You’re my everything.”

  His smile flickered but it didn’t catch. He just looked plain exhausted, inside and out. This hard work wasn’t just for me - I wasn’t that arrogant to think that - but I knew he had always had issue with where he came from and where I came from.

  “I missed you,” I said. “That’s all.”

  I kissed him firm on the lips. Sweat dribbled down between us, and I tasted the salt and the energy he had spent.

  God help me. Seeing him wounded trying to prove himself to me was as much a turn on as him coming home bold with victory.

  I nudged closer to him and nibbled on his lip. His breath caught, but I was in no mood to wait. I ran a hand down the hot, wet stretch of his chest and slipped straight into his pants.

  Part of him wasn’t tired, at least.

  I wrapped my fingers as much as I could around the thick, hard, fullness of him and tucked it out of his shorts. He was kissing me back now, his tongue testing the nib of mine. I wasn’t going to pose him any challenge, but it was fun to pretend.

  I tried ducking down to reward his efforts with my mouth, but he grabbed my head and held it in place. I was helpless to do anything but be ravished by his kisses.

  My hand was free to move though.

  It took the gentlest trace of my curled fingers up and down to get him to sigh. I stroked more vigorously, feeling his heartbeat and the moisture thicken. His sighs grew into groans.

  He clutched me to him, the wonders of his voice now rumbling against my own chest. Just that alone had me feeling amazing. I had missed him. I had missed being with him, but I had also missed taking care of him.

  Sean needed me now, and if he needed my love and attention more than my body, then I should be there. I should have been there all along.

  I gripped as tight as I could, and thumped up and down as hard as I could. Sean kissed my neck and then he started nipping at the skin. He twitched under my grip and then he let out the sweetest mountain of a release in my ears.

  A molten pool of heat blanketed my fingers. I didn’t stop till I had all of it.

  Sean and I tumbled into the nook of the couch and we just lay there heaving.

  I didn’t have everything I came here to find. But it was still a more perfect ending to the evening that I could have dreamed up.

  I had my man, and he had me. Whatever this was, we could get through it together.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The pot started to boil on the stove, the soup hissing and popping in thick gloppy ways. The sounds warmed the kitchen even more than the steam pouring out of the top. The next burner over, a skillet sizzled and cracked with brick red sausage. The oven groaned underneath as it heated some biscuits to perfection.

  I clutched my ladle, shut my eyes and breathed it in like a flowery meadow. But no flowers smelled as good as a great meal.

  “You mind if I add protein powder directly to my bowl?” Sean asked.

  He sat at the dinner table nearby. We weren’t going out, but he’d still changed out of his gym stuff into dark pleats and a button-down. He looked suave as hell, but still nowhere near enough to tolerate what he’d just said.

  “Are you nuts?” I shot at him. “You can’t just change the consistency of the soup and call it the same.”

  “The powder doesn’t make it thick. I drink it in milk all the time.”

  “Then just do that now. You shouldn’t need more protein anyway. You think I got four pounds of sausage just for me?”

  He dashed into a grin. “Oh I’ve seen you handle a lot more than that.”

  “Hah, don’t flatter yourself.”

  “That was actually a compliment to you.”

  I huffed and turned back to the stove, but mostly to hide my smile. Things weren’t quite back to normal in the bedroom department, but the frost had definitely been melted clear.

  Sean had had me meet him as he came from the gym a couple times the past few days. The mix of his amped up testosterone and the effect his scent had on me was explosive.

  We had barely brushed lips before he was taking me bent over the couch, bare and open to him. I left like his prisoner, like I was in some stockade.

  I wanted him? Well, I got him, full and out of control.

  It was amazing.

  Tonight was probably gonna be our day off, which was fine. I was sated enough to think about my career and Sean had other hungers than for my body. This was the meal I planned to serve at the Cordon Competition coming up, so it worked for both of us.

  I sipped at wine and watched my concoctions come to life. I could only hope to help his situation with some TLC. If only I was the type to be able to just declare that things would be alright and make it so.

  Sean nursed a dark porter and studied an MMA match on his phone even as he waited. Whatever happened at his next match, there was no doubt that Sean threw his everything at the problem. I was a fool to ever think he’d slink away from anything, me included.

  When the gumbo had reduced to a nice broth and the biscuits were golden brown, I plated them. One by one, I set them before Sean:

  “First we have my main dish, a Mo-Town take on gumbo. Something to keep you warm on the nights ahead, without having you sweat like they make it down South.”

  Sean set his phone down and made deep admiring noises that sounded pretty genuine.

  “And for our side, we have two butter biscuits, rich and chewy at the center and smothered with salted butter and a dash of honey on top.”

  “Those do look good,” Sean said. “Though I think you should have considered applying the butter and honey directly to your chocolate skin.”

  I knocked his shoulder and slapped down the last dish.

  “And finally, some extra sausages, you damn pig.”

  I turned to get him a glass of water, but he grabbed me by the flap of my T-shirt and yanked me down.

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured into my mouth. “I’m sure it’s fantastic. It looks almost as good as you.”

  He kissed me soft and tender. I’d spent so much time thinking the biscuits were the only thing with perfect consistency in this room, I’d forgotten about those lips.

  Finally, I broke away. He’d gotten my heart pounding, which just made me more worried about what he’d say. Sean wasn’t a foodie by any means, but a good reaction still counted.

  I watched him carefully blow on a spoon of soup before sipping it down. There was no way I could trust his words, so I’d have to watch his face.

  It screwed up like he had tasted a salt lick. I nearly wrung my own hands off.

  The next instant though, he went blank. A confused smile crept on his face, as if he couldn’t believe a gift he’d just unwrapped.

  “This is good,” he said.

  What I cared about more was how his spoon ducked back in before he even finished talking. For a few minutes, there were just the sounds of him eating: splashing soup, taking mushy mouthfuls of bread, ripping through sausage.

  It was perfect.

  I practically danced over to the kitchen and got my serving to eat with him. Maybe it was just his enjoyment, or maybe it had cooled down, but it all tasted more amazing than I expected.

  I shut my eyes and let myself imagine that victory might just be possible.

  “I love this new recipe you made up. I love the biscuits, too. It’s like the best of two worlds. They just fit together right.” Sean headed to the kitchen. “There’s more right?”

  “Yeah, I was hoping you might like it enough for lunch or-“

  “Fuck that.” He dumped the rest of the pot into his bowl and came back. “This thing is like ambrosia. If I eat enough at once, I might just become a god.”

  “Ambrosia?” I said. “Fancy.”

  He flashed his brows as he sat down. “Not a bad word for a poor white boy, huh.”

  “Not bad at all.”

  “
I didn’t well in school, remember? Mythology, especially. That was just plain fun. I guess soul food is as close as I’ll get to the real thing though.”

  “Gumbo isn’t soul food,” I grumbled. “It’s Cajun.”

  “Hmm.” He stroked his chin. “I thought anything a black person made counted as soul food.”

  “I’m in a mind to make you a soul knuckle sandwich.”

  He edged in over me. “Is that right?”

  I smiled my sweetest smile. “Just try me, pretty boy.”

  He dimmed. “The state I’m in, you might just get through my defenses.”

  It looked like I already had. What had I said? He was pretty. It didn’t mean he couldn’t fight.

  “Hey,” I started. “You’re going to do fine.”

  He nodded.

  His phone buzzed right then. He frowned at the number, but he picked it up.

  “What up?” he said.

  His expression lightened right away. “Really?”

  A grin erupted on his lips. “Troy, you are a fucking miracle maker.”

  His manager must have good news. Just watching his eyes glow like a tropical surf, made me feel a cool breeze. It’d been a while since I’d seen him like that.

  Just as quickly, it evaporated. “When?” Sean asked.

  “This Friday?”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ok, see you.”

  He set it down and looked out over his soup like he was watching the sun set.

  I touched his wrist. “What’s happening Friday?”

  “My next fight,” Sean said.

  “That’s great, baby. Right?”

  He clenched his jaw, like he was training to fight with it. “Yeah. It’s good. It’s just not much time.”

  “You’ve been training like a machine the past week and a half,” I said. “You’ve got plenty of practice in.”

  “It sure as hell wasn’t enough last time,” Sean snapped. He saw me go wide-eyed. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I edged his bowl away. “Too much of that will make your mood hot.”

  We sat for a while, hand in hand. Under his shirt he tensed and untensed all his rippling strength. It would have been such a treat in any other situation. Now it seemed like he was already trapped in some fight in his head.