Beast, Page 4

“I’ve had my run-ins with the law in the past. What I was charged with this time wouldn’t have been such a big deal had it not been for my priors.” Inevitably, he shook his head in frustration, just thinking about it, but he went on. “In the past, I’d been pinched for fighting in an illegal underground fight club. I hadn’t been back there in years. The day I was arrested again I just happened to be there looking for someone when the place got raided. But I wasn’t fighting this time. Except the probation board wasn’t having it.”

  Shaking his head again, he decided that was as much as he was sharing with her about that. To his surprise, unlike earlier, she wasn’t busy writing this time when he glanced up at her. She was staring at him with this look of disbelief or . . . awe?

  “You were an underground fighter?”

  Leo followed her eyes as they proceeded to roam his face, neck, and forehead. He was sure she thought she was making the connection about the scars. If she’d ever been witness to him in the ring, she’d know that was far from the case. His opponents were the ones who walked away with such scars.

  Never Leo.

  The scars he’d carried for most of his life had nothing to do with his time in the fight club. “I was,” he said but didn’t offer more.

  “Can you tell me about that?”

  She set her pen down, and Leo wondered now if this was what Gio had meant by her asking things off the record. When he glanced up at her again, she nodded as if to answer his unspoken question. “This is completely off the record. I’m only asking to satisfy my own curiosity. Only time I’ve ever heard of a fight club was the movie. But even that I never watched. Just heard about and saw some of the clips since it’s often mentioned online and such. I didn’t think they actually existed.”

  Once again, she had him wrestling with his thoughts. She’d said several things after the one thought he’d been stuck on the moment the words left her mouth.

  Satisfy her.

  Straightening up again, he didn’t even care if she noticed how much he’d been fidgeting from the moment he sat down. He’d yet to sit still for more than five minutes. The reasons were insane and he knew it. Nineteen or not, she was still just a kid, an innocent kid he had no business having these thoughts about.

  Glancing around, he wondered if he should take her up on her offer now. Get out of there while he still had the chance to do so with his conscience intact.

  “Leonardo—”

  “Call me Beast,” he said too quickly—frantically. But hearing her say his name was already doing to him what he’d had a feeling from day one would happen if he ever saw her again. “It’s what most people call me.”

  Her brows came together again, and she tilted her head. “Why?”

  Those eyes. Jesus Christ, those fucking eyes were going to be the end of him. Glancing away for the sake of his own sanity, he stared down at his fisting hands on the table but shrugged, attempting to seem less tense. “Fight-club thing.”

  That was half the truth anyway, but no way was he telling her everything. Already his telling her anything at all about it was for one reason only: the pleasure of satisfying her—even if only her curiosity—for now.

  Fisting his hands tightly as his insides heated with the annoyance that his mind would even go there, he focused on finishing his answer. “I picked up the name then, and even though I haven’t been involved in that shit in years, the name stuck.”

  “Was it because you were a Beast in the ring?”

  Leonardo stared at her playful eyes now. Refusing to lighten up and welcome any more playfulness, his response was nothing more than a nod.

  Her eyes widened a bit in reaction to his hardening glare. “Were you just that good or was it all an act like those wrestlers on TV?”

  Unable to keep from glancing down at those sweet lips—lips he thought of more than he cared to admit all because of her love affair with that fucking donut—Leonardo shook his head. She had no idea, and for the sake of making sure the questioning about this ended now, he’d give her a taste. “I’m not into theatrics, Ms. Allison, and I’m not proud of the name.”

  He paused, surprised about adding that last part. What the hell was he doing now? For years, he’d been very proud. So, he wasn’t now. Why did he feel the need to make that clear?

  Glancing away and feeling more than exasperated with himself, he added the next part because he needed to. She looked too damned intrigued—too full of curiosity. Leo was anything but intriguing. He was everything a sweet girl like her should detest—dread.

  “I was unpredictable. Dangerous. I got the name after one particularly gruesome fight, and the reason for it is why it stuck.”

  “What’s the reason?”

  And there it was. Stripped of the playfulness she’d used earlier, her tone now oozed of dread. She was afraid to know, but just as he imagined, she had to.

  “It’s not like the boxing your sister does.” He stared her straight in those enrapt eyes, knowing what he’d say next would have her looking at him differently—the way she should be looking at him. “These fights aren’t regulated. Anything goes. I’d heard the guy I was fighting was as dirty as they came.”

  He thought about it for a moment before he told her the rest. Maybe he should make his reasons for doing what he did clearer—explain himself—but then he thought better of it. It was in his best interest to make sure the inquisitive little reporter would think twice about asking anything more. Only he couldn’t take looking into those eyes anymore, so he glanced down at his fist when he said it. “I let the attempts to gouge my eyes go, but when he tried to knee me in the groin, I ripped his jaw off.”

  He waited for a response to that, but there was none. He should’ve been happy about that, glad he’d stunned her silent. Instead, he had to quiet the alarm in him that she may be packing her shit and wanting to end this interview now. It’s what she should've been doing.

  Once again, he was forced to deal with the frustration of giving into glancing back up at her. Instead of dread, he saw that same intrigue he’d seen earlier. Her eyes were glued to him as if waiting for him to share more. Only she didn’t look stunned or afraid. She tilted her head as she’d done earlier in question. “But you don’t do that anymore,” she stated it as if it were fact not a question. “And you’re not proud of it. Yet you prefer being called Beast to Leonardo?”

  Hearing her say his full name again, not just Leo, had him squeezing his fists even tighter. His utter weakness when it came to this surprised him as much as it annoyed him. He contemplated walking out again before she might notice what she so easily did to him without doing anything.

  “Leonar—”

  “Yes,” he said before he was forced to hear it again. “I prefer Beast. Listen . . .” He looked around, feeling the panic multiply. “Are we almost done here?”

  She picked up her pen, appearing a little panicked herself. “I’m sorry. I got off the subject of the work-release program and didn’t get a whole lot of questions in about that. Is it okay if I ask a few more quick ones?”

  Leo nodded, hoping the questions were quick, but once again was irritated at his inability to just say no to her. It was already happening, the unrelenting desire to want to satisfy this girl he knew nothing about. It’d won over the common sense of doing the smarter thing—getting the fuck out of there.

  Thankfully, her follow-up questions were few and, as promised, quick ones. The interview was finally over, and he was almost out of there—on his feet even—when she hit him with one last question.

  “Is it okay if I interview you again?” Leo turned to her, surprised to see the excitement in her eyes. “My editor might have some follow-up questions. For once, I think he’ll finally be impressed with one of my stories.”

  Say no. Say you’d rather not. Say you can’t. Damn it. It’s partly true.

  “I don’t think it’s up to me.”

  “I’m sure Gio would be fine with it, but if you’d rather not do the whole formal interview thing w
ith us setting an appointment to meet, I can just text you any follow up questions I might have.”

  Before Leo could even consider his rebuttal—his absolute refusal to the insane idea of exchanging numbers with her—she was tapping away at her phone’s screen.

  “It might not even happen,” she said, still looking down at her phone. “I think I have enough, but I usually think of something I’m slapping my forehead with the next day. So just in case, what’s your number?”

  It might not even happen.

  When he didn’t respond immediately, she lowered her phone. “Or not,” she said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I’ll start working out here at the gym soon. If I have any other questions, maybe I’ll just track you down and—”

  “Area code three-two-three . . .”

  He finished rattling off his number before she could finish her thought about tracking him down. The last thing he needed was the anticipation of her walking up to him at any moment. He chose the lesser of two evils. If she ever texted him, he’d keep it straight and to the point. It also meant not having to deal with looking into those eyes. The entire time with her had felt like a challenge—like one of the sparring matches he had in the ring. He’d been bobbing and weaving, trying to avoid getting hit with another one of those paralyzing moments.

  Just when he thought this round was over and he’d made it out unscathed, she hit him with another jab. “And, Beast?” He’d been wrong. Hearing her address him directly by his nickname was just as unnerving. Their eyes met, and once again, he was caught in them. “Ms. Allison is way too formal.” She smiled, only this time it wasn’t playful—it was sweet—it was beautiful. “You can call me Ali. It’s what most people call me.”

  Leo nodded, turning quickly to get the hell out as soon as he could. Trudging out of there and toward the training area, Leo fisted his hand tightly, beyond frustrated about how poorly he’d handled the entire interview. The only thing he could hope for now was that he’d never have to address her at all. After today’s experience, he knew now, without doubt, that avoiding her was something he’d be doing at all costs.

  Four

  Allison

  Allison had already explained to her sister about the Jelly misunderstanding with Leonardo earlier that day. Even over the phone, it was clear her easily annoyed and worrywart sister hadn’t been too convinced that it was nothing more than just that—an innocent misunderstanding. Despite the odd vibe Allison thought she’d picked up from him during the interview and the compliment that’d left her breathless, she knew better. She’d chalk up his reaction to her as just how he explained it. Like everyone else, he’d simply been caught off guard by how different she looked. And the compliment? Well, that was something she’d be keeping for herself, but she refused to make anything more of it than him trying to explain himself out of a comment that had initially come out all wrong.

  She could now admit her new look did make a big difference. She smiled, remembering how even Carson, the pompous editor of her school paper, had done a double take the first day she’d gone into class after her makeover. Normally, the only time he focused that much on her was when they disagreed about something—which was often—though he called it healthy debating.

  It’d made her nervous at first. Allison had never been one to enjoy the spotlight, and ever since the makeover, it was exactly where she’d been—at school, her job, and now at the gym. But regardless of her sister’s misgivings about Leonardo, his reaction to her, even if, at first, it’d had her heart thundering because he remembered her, was perfectly in line with everyone else’s.

  But maybe the fact that he’d remembered her enough to even have a reaction was a little inappropriately exciting. When Allison had called Lila earlier to explain the misunderstanding to her, she’d stupidly been too giddy about it. Lila had instantly called her on it. If Allison had thought for even a minute that the man could possibly ever look at her in any other way than he had that time, she never would’ve admitted to her sister she thought he was sexy. She managed to backpedal today when Lila questioned why his remembering her excited Allison so.

  Breathing in a little too deeply, she realized she’d really have to play this down around Lila. As close as she was to her sister, this would not be a subject they could giggle about the way they often did about other things. Lila had so much on her plate lately. Her career as both a boxer and fitness model was taking off, and she had the upcoming fight for the title she was training so hard for. Allison refused to give her more to worry about. And she knew this would worry her sister to no end, even if it was nothing. So, she’d save any silly thoughts of Leonardo for Jen or even Drew.

  As she’d predicted, Carson had been impressed with the story. She felt even better now about not chickening out when she’d had the presence of mind to ask Leonardo for his number. Carson did have more questions. Questions Allison felt stupid about not having thought to ask, but then the conversation had veered off into a far more interesting one. As interested as she’d been to hear more about Leonardo’s work-release experience at the gym, she’d been strangely fascinated hearing about his underground fighting. Just another thing she’d have to tone down when she told Lila about it.

  Leonardo had been frustratingly hard to read. One moment he indulged her with a smile; then the next he was glaring. Her heart fluttered, remembering how at times that same glare seemed to wane, and there was something almost vulnerable about the way his panicked eyes had taken her in then quickly glanced away. She had no idea what to make of it, but it was why she’d rewritten the text she’d sent him earlier half a dozen times. She wanted to get the tone just right. Professional but not too stuffy. Friendly but not overly playful. Despite his questioning her about her age and the comments that followed, he just didn’t seem the type to be open and social. As broodingly skittish as he’d seemed half the time, she didn’t want to spook him into not responding. His kid remark had been duly noted.

  That coupled with his remark about it not being up to him when she asked if she could interview him again, not to mention his comment about not having signed up for this shit in the first place, confirmed what she’d begun to think. Given all his restrictions, he really was walking on thin ice. And just like his reason for stretching the fact that he knew her, he wasn’t looking to piss anyone off or break any rules. So, while she’d finally decided on just the amount of friendliness, she worried now maybe it’d been too long. Glancing down at her phone, she read the unanswered wordy text she’d sent.

  Hello, Leonardo, Ali here. Thank you again for the opportunity to interview you. I spoke with my editor, and just like me, he’s highly intrigued by your story. But he also had more questions. So do I. Not just about the work-release program either. Let me know how you’d prefer to do this. Via text, over a phone call, or we could set up another in-person interview. Your choice. Looking forward to hearing back from you! =D

  Allison frowned, hitting speed dial as she walked over to the fridge. Maybe she shouldn’t have used the word intrigued. It was too telling of how she was really feeling about him. But who wouldn’t be? Allison hadn’t shared with Carson what she’d spoken to Leonardo about off the record. All she told Carson about Leonardo’s charges was that he’d violated his probation due to some prior fighting conviction. She’d left out the illegal fighting ring he’d done it in. Even without knowing that, Carson really was interested in hearing about Leonardo’s plans for becoming a boxer.

  “Hey, how’d it go?” Jen answered, sounding as enthused as Allison knew she’d be.

  “It was very . . . interesting.”

  Allison had told Jen all about her only other encounter with Mr. Disgusted. By the time she done so, she’d been over feeling so humiliated about the incident, and they’d been able to laugh about it. Unlike Lila, Jen had appreciated Allison’s hot description of the bad boy. She told her about both interviews, beginning with the near disastrous start.

  “He remembered you!” Jen gasped as excited a
s Allison had to admit she’d been for a minute there.

  Jen’s excitement made Allison’s insides do a little fluttering, but she made sure to go back and forth about each guy’s interview and not just focus on Leonardo’s. Unlike with Carson, Allison told Jen everything, including about Leonardo’s underground fighting club. She knew without a doubt she could trust Jen to keep it to herself. He hadn’t said it was a secret anyway. But sharing something so personal about him with Carson versus her trusted friend just felt wrong.

  She did however share what she’d been dying to share with someone because she could hardly stand it anymore. “Leonardo is so freakin’ hot!” she blurted out after calmly letting Jen in on the other more professional stuff that went on during her interviews. “I mean like nerve-wrackingly so. The whole time I was talking to him I had to remind myself to breathe.”

  “The cage fighter?”

  “Not cage fighter.” Allison laughed. “Underground fighter. EX underground fighter,” she clarified further. “Pay attention, will you?”

  Jen laughed now too. “Whatever. Like I’d know the difference. I’m still trying to get straight what’s considered country and what’s redneck. You don’t even wanna know how many times I’ve insulted Jaxson. But forget him. Right now, I wanna know about your man.”

  “My man?” Allison laughed nervously, feeling her face heat as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “All I said was that he’s hot, and I’ll add deliciously intimidating because he is. He’s a mountain of muscles, tattoos, and mystery. But don’t get any crazy ideas.”

  “Why not? You said he remembered you. Not just you but a pretty significant detail.”

  “About me inhaling that donut.” Allison huffed as she poured herself some juice. “He was probably just that disgusted,” she added, ignoring her still-sputtering heart and for some reason keeping to herself that he’d said she looked amazing and that he didn’t think she needed a makeover.

  With her heart speeding up again, she did share with Jen something she would not be sharing with her sister: that, unlike Leonardo who’d been the far more reserved of the two, Rodney had been quite the obnoxious flirt. Thankfully, before Allison could put even another thought into what Jen had previously tried to imply about there being more to Leo remembering her, Jen suddenly remembered something about the other story they were working on together. She began filling Allison in on it. Allison tried to concentrate on what her friend was saying but couldn’t help being distracted with thoughts of Leonardo. She reminded herself that even her excitement over his remembering her, the profound way he’d looked at her at that moment, and his saying she looked amazing were just all new to her. She’d never gotten much attention from guys—especially ones as daunting as Leonardo. She refused to even entertain the ridiculous notion.