The Fighting For Love Series

Chapter 13

Nick opened his eyes, and blinked at the red numbers glowing at him from the clock on the bedside table: 4:51 a.m. How was that possible? The last thing that he remembered was holding Mia until she fell asleep again. That was at almost nine o’clock the night before, and that was after he’d already slept for nine hours. He never slept like this, not ever.

I must be exhausted from all the training and work I’m doing lately. Maybe I need to slow down?

Mia was still sleeping next to him, her breathing calm and even. He examined her face by the light of the street lamps outside, and saw that her color was good. The bruise on her face looked awful, though, the purple now tinged with black and sickly green. He reached out and stroked her cheek with a fingertip. She didn’t move.

It was bizarre having a woman in his bed that he hadn’t had s*x with. Nick struggled to recall the last time this had happened, and it occurred to him that it had been with Shelley. She was the last woman that he’d just slept with, that he'd just held close and been totally happy with that. Any woman since her was there to get him off and then go. Names optional.

Moving his large body as carefully and quietly as possible, he got to his feet and crept out of the bedroom, grabbing a t-shirt as he passed the closet. He went into his tiny kitchen and started a pot of coffee, and then peered into the fridge. He imagined that she’d be hungry when she woke up – he hoped so, anyway. If she were, that would be a good sign.

He made two sandwiches, and devoured them with a cup of coffee as he watched the sun coming up over the mountains. The Rockies were the best part about living in Denver, as far as he was concerned. He had no time whatsoever for walking in the damn mountains, but he could sit and look at them forever. He liked their strength, their uncompromising presence.

He heard a noise behind him, and he turned to see Mia standing there. She was dwarfed by the t-shirt that he had loaned her, and her feet were bare. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were brilliant gold in the sunrise. She was so astonishingly beautiful, so bright and clear and whole, it actually took his breath away for a second.

“Good morning,” he managed.

“Good morning.”

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please." She padded into the room, and it was like watching a piece of heaven move a bit closer. "I’d love some.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“Please.”

He watched her settle onto the sofa. She looked around his apartment, and he tried to imagine what she must be seeing: lots of black and white, no decoration or ornamentation. Did she think it cold? Distant? Hard?

He brought her the coffee, and set it on the table in front of her.

Mia met his eyes and she smiled. “Thank you, Nick. For everything.”

He felt embarrassed now, as he remembered holding her close and whispering pet names that he hadn’t called any woman since Shelley. Did she remember? “You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good. Almost totally myself.”

“Any pain in your head?”

“Yeah, a bit. I don’t think I’ll need any more painkillers, though. I’d rather lay off them, if I can.”

He nodded, and tried to think what the hell to talk to her about. He was way out of practice at making non-flirtatious conversation with sober women, and he scrambled to be a decent human being. “So… do you have to go to work tomorrow?”

“Yep. You? Tonight?”

“No. I only work at The Cave on Fridays and Saturdays.”

“So it’s not your full-time job then. What else do you do?”

“I have a club with a friend of mine, Adam.”

“A dance club? Like, a bar?”

“No. It’s a training club. We teach all kinds of martial arts. Boxing, too.”

Her eyes ran over his body. Well, that certainly explains the muscles.

“Really?" She tucked her legs under her, pulled his t-shirt around her generous thighs. "Do you teach?”

“I do.” He took a sip of coffee, tried valiantly to ignore how cute her feet were peeking out from under his shirt. “Karate. Adam does boxing, and we have another four guys who work for us too, as trainers and teachers. But I also compete a bit.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

“You ever do any martial arts?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m not that athletic.”

“No?”

“Nope. Yoga and swimming, that’s it.”

“And what’s your job? The one you have to go to tomorrow?”

“Well, I don’t really have to go anywhere… I just need my laptop. I’m a writer.”

Nick paused. “Like – books? Or a journalist?”

“Books.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

“We seem to be a mutual admiration society,” she said, grinning.

He laughed. “I guess we are. So, what kind of books?”

“Well, I really want to write literary fiction novels, but it's hard to make a living at it. So mostly I write books based on my travels to Asia.”

“Books for tourists?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. More… sociological studies.”

He blinked at her. Hmmm. She’s brainy. And oddly, it makes her hotter.