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He hates it.
I love it.
His eyes darken as he approaches us and that makes me happy. For a moment.
“Congrats, Ty,” Drew says, and I roll my eyes as I huff out a breath.
Ty’s jaw ticks.
Oh, fun. I roll them again.
He narrows his eyes in my direction. “Something you want to say to me, Mitchell?”
I shrug my shoulders and shake my head. “I don’t think so.” I smile at him again.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he says, stepping towards me. One of his guys places a hand on his chest to stop him.
I shrug again. “Clearly it’s you. I thought that was obvious.”
Ty drops his bag and pushes his guy's hand away, stepping closer. I drop my bag too and laugh, which only pisses him off more as his eyes flash. Awesome.
Drew steps between us and places a hand on my shoulder, while Ty’s guy does the same to him again. I keep my smile in place as he’s wrangled back by his team. But he continues to stare at me, seething.
“Alright, let’s go. Fights are over,” one of his guys says, patting his chest.
Ty’s lips tilt up at the corner as he picks his bag up. “Yeah. It’s going to stay that way too.”
Anger rushes through me again. Because that’s likely true. Max is going to want him since he won, so I don’t know if I’ll ever fight him again. And as much as I’d never like to see his smug fucking face again, I hate that this is ending with a loss against him.
I want to launch myself at him, and end this with a true beating right here in this hallway. But I’m classier than that. So, I pick up my bag and give him a playful smirk and a wink.
His brows draw together before he quickly adopts his signature scowl again.
Oh Roscoe, I know just how to get in your head.
I turn towards the exit and try not to let disappointment completely take over me.
I almost had it… I almost won.
Now, that beer doesn’t only sound delightful, it’s a fucking necessity.
THREE
Monday mornings suck on a good day. But after a shitty weekend, it’s pretty much the worst thing ever. I’ve considered calling in sick a couple times this morning, as I drag my ass around getting ready for work, but I can’t do that. Not only because I would feel guilty for lying, as I’m not actually sick, but staying home would feel like I’m giving Ty another win.
And like hell he’s going to make me mope.
Even though that’s exactly what I’m doing, as I just stand here in the shower and let the hot water run over my face. Wallowing in my own self-pity.
Eventually, I get out of the shower and try to shake it all off. Except I get another little reminder of my situation as I step up to the mirror, wiping the steam away to see my black eye staring back at me. I lean in to inspect it, as the swelling is pretty much gone now. But there’s some heavy bruising, which will be fun for work.
By the time I’m downstairs making coffee, I feel a bit better. I love my job, so hopefully a good day at work will help get my mind off what I lost this weekend.
“Hey, Luca.”
I look up from scrolling my phone while I wait for my coffee to brew, to see Alexis enter the kitchen.
“Morning.” I smile at her, and she reaches into the cupboard to grab a bowl.
