Cops were called. He was arrested. Mike refused to coach him any more. Ethan banned him from fighting in CMC. And Julie had bailed him out of jail.
This entire time she’d believed he’d thrown a Hulk-sized temper tantrum because he’d been sitting there sulking about losing the title and Ethan’s son just happened to say the wrong thing to trigger the explosion.
But that had never been the case. He’d been defending her. And as a thank-you, she’d freaking told him he needed to grow up.
How the hell did she make up for that?
…
Tommy sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair as a giggling woman put some kind of makeup shit on his face in the stockroom of Athletic Life. He’d called a car rental agency first thing this morning and had them deliver a sedan so he could get to work on time. He hated every second of this job, but it was a well-paying gig that didn’t take up too much of his time. Just a few hours a day for a few weeks, while the Athletic Life marketing suits took photos of specific gear and equipment they wanted showcased on an actual human in the catalog. The job would be wrapping up soon, and it couldn’t come soon enough as far as Tommy was concerned.
However, today he was in a crappier mood than he usually was when he was here. He hadn’t slept well, had tossed and turned most of the night, remembering Julie’s criticism and how it had hit him right in the chest.
What sucked was that she was right. He hated when she was right. Over the last four months of soul-searching, his former out-of-control ego and constant partying were two things he looked back on and regretted. Maybe Mike, and possibly even Ethan, wouldn’t have been so quick to cut him off if he hadn’t been fucking up so badly for months.
Being a career fighter had always been Tommy’s dream. He’d busted serious ass to be recognized by CMC—the largest, most respected MMA organization in the world. CMC only hosted the highest-caliber fighters, and being offered a contract to fight for them was like being offered the Holy Grail of fighting. And he’d had it.
He’d pinpointed the start of his downfall to a little more than a year and a half ago when he’d won the fight he needed to be a contender for the belt. At his victory celebration that night, he’d partied hard. That win had also come with a hefty paycheck and winning bonus. For the first time ever, he didn’t have to worry about money.
He’d started spending more time at the bars and clubs. It didn’t faze him to walk into a place alone because he knew he’d be surrounded in no time. Men wanted to be his friend, and the women… He’d never lacked for willing, gorgeous women, but after that win, they all but begged to be with Tommy “Lightning” Sparks. And he’d been all too happy to oblige.
All that attention had gone to his head and he’d turned cocky, which had morphed into arrogant asshole after he won the belt from Griffin. He’d started skipping practice, staying out late, blaming everyone else when he had a bad practice. He’d totally lost control. And what had happened? The first time he defended his title, he’d given the poorest showing of his entire MMA career.
Then he’d punched the president’s son.
Still. That he would never regret. He’d told Julie the dead honest truth. Even knowing what was going to happen, he would hit that motherfucker all over again.
“Is he ready?”
Coming back to the present, Tommy glanced over his shoulder to see Bonnie, the photographer, standing inside the door.
“Yep.” The makeup woman dabbed one more of something on the corner of his nose and straightened.
He pushed out of the chair and ambled over to the photographer he’d been working with the last couple of weeks. She was attractive. Tall. In her spiked black heels, she was the same height as his six-three, which meant she was probably around five-ten in bare feet. Bright, wavy red hair reached the middle of her back, and she had green eyes that were too green to be real. Her outfits were on the tight side and showed off her tiny figure. She had a sexually deviant vibe about her, which usually turned him on. But nope, he wasn’t feeling her.
She was too aggressive for his taste. She’d made it clear that she wanted to tie him up and do dirty things to him. Maybe the offer would have been more intriguing if she’d offered to let him tie her up, though he doubted it, even if he did get turned on by being the dominant one.
No one was turning him on lately. He didn’t know what the fuck was the matter with him. He loved women, but ever since the night he was arrested—the only time in his life restraints had been put on his wrists—he hadn’t had any fun at all.
And it always came back to Julie’s expression that night after he was released. Her disappointment had killed his libido. Except…
No. It wasn’t Julie. Yeah, he’d let her down, and if there was one person he hated letting down, it was his best friend. But if there was one person he hated letting down even more, it was himself.