“Yes.”
I glance back up at him. “Huh?”
“Yes.” He tilts his head slightly and grants me a cocky smirk. “You asked if the saying is true… Big feet mean a big dick. Yes.” He shrugs, the corners of his lips quirking up into a full-blown two-dimpled grin. “Well, at least in my case. I can’t speak of every man with big feet.”
Kill. Me. Now. I did not ask that out loud…
“Yes,” he says again, with a laugh that somehow sounds masculine and melodic at the same time.
“What?” I say, embarrassed at the way my words are coming out all breathless, and mad at my body for behaving this way.
“You did ask it out loud.”
“There has to be some mistake.”
“About my dick being big, or you asking about it out loud?”
“About you being here!” I shriek, my face and neck heating up.
Ryan laughs harder. “I can assure you, I am not a squatter. I’m not only allowed to be here, but I was invited.”
“By who?”
“Your dad.”
Ryan
Twelve Hours Ago
“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” I’m not even ten feet inside Cooper’s Fight Club when Marco, a family friend and part owner of the UFC gym, comes walking over. He grabs my hand and pulls me into a bro-hug. “How you doing?”
“Good.” I pat him on his back before I step back.
“I heard you’re in town for a couple months. Took you long enough to come by.”
“I’ve been busy. Transferred to the base here and then left for training. I leave to Texas in a couple weeks for another training, and then we ship out to Afghanistan.”
“Fuck, man, how many tours have you been on now?”
“This will be my seventh. Mom is pissed. She thought me transferring would mean I’m home for good. Love that woman to death, but she’s driving me fucking nuts.”
“That’s what parents are supposed to do.” Marco pats me on the shoulder. “Wanna get some sparring in? I have some time.”
“Sure, let me drop my stuff.”
After throwing my bag into a locker, I head back out to find Cooper—Marco’s father-in-law—and my dad standing near the octagon, gossiping like girls.
“Dad, you following me?” I ask, walking up next to him.
He grins and shakes his head. “If I had to listen to your mom tell me one more time that we need to find you a house to ensure you’d come back, I was going to lose my shit.”
The guys all laugh.
“Seriously, though, you made her year coming back home,” Dad adds.
“Let’s spar,” Marco says, jumping in and saving me.
We enter the octagon, and since we aren’t really fighting, the only gear we use is a head piece. We circle around for a minute or so and then Marco comes at me with a sideswipe, knocking me onto my ass.
He booms with laugher and I shake my head. “So, it’s like that, huh?”
Still laughing, he extends his hand to help me up.
“You back for good?” he asks, bouncing on his toes with his hands up.
“I transferred, so yeah. Wasn’t anything left for me in Carson City.” I throw a punch to his face and he ducks.
“How have things been since the divorce?”
“Thought you were saving me from the gossiping chicks over there.” I nod toward my dad and Cooper.
Marco laughs and throws a punch. It connects to my stomach lightly.
“The divorce?” he prompts.
“I’m all good.”
“And how’s Laura?”
“She’s good, met a guy, started a family…” I come in with a roundhouse kick and it connects with his head. Since we’re only fucking around and wearing gear, it doesn’t hurt him, and he easily shakes it off.
“You’re a good man,” he says. “What you did for her was beyond generous.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug. “She deserves a good life. She didn’t have the people I do.” I look him in the eyes and he knows I’m not just referring to my parents. Marco is one of the few people I talk to besides my parents. We connected when I was younger. I don’t remember it, but over the years he’s always been there. Even when I was a teenager, I would come here to work out and we would talk. He’s become like a second dad to me, a friend. And no matter how long I’m gone, when I return, he welcomes me with open arms.
“When are you going to start doing for you?” He throws an uppercut, and I block it, immediately coming back at him with a left hook. He bends and grabs my legs, throwing me onto my back. He pulls my arm back into an armbar and I tap out.
“Fuck.” I laugh. “Your old ass still has it.”
“Always.” He grabs my hand and helps me up. “Now answer my question.”
“There’s nothing to do for me.” I walk over to the side and grab a towel, wiping my face and neck.