Chapter Seventeen

Fighter lifted the glass of water near his hand and took a long swallow. The high-end restaurant was expensive as fuck and he felt out of place in his well-worn and ripped blue jeans along with a faded t-shirt.

It was freezing in the large, empty room. He should have put on the new winter jacket Brick had bought him and left hanging on the back of his office chair, but he hadn’t wanted to seem desperate. Now, he huddled in his thin, bare jacket that was better suited for summer.

“Did you hear me?” Allen Cook asked and cut a bite of the steak on his plate before chewing it slowly.

“Yeah. You want me to have my team bodyguard you at a charity event next weekend.”

“That’s not all.” Cook pointed his empty fork at him.

“I don’t know if I can go as your date. I have responsibilities.”

“You’ll go, or I’ll want the money in full.”

The thought of accompanying Cook to a fundraiser made Fighter feel sick, but if the man was willing to wipe some of his debt clean then he could suck it up. Plus, lending out his guys would mean that his men would be nearby.

“How much?”

Cook rolled his head from side to side and stabbed up a bite of roasted potatoes. While the man chewed, Fighter took another sip of water. He hadn’t been asked to order food, so he sat there watching the other man eat.

“I’ll wipe off twenty grand for the night.”

“No. I’ll only attend the event. There is no night.”

Cook snorted. “Then four grand.”

“Ten.”

Cook shook his head. “You have got to make it worth my while.”

“I’ll need to purchase a suit. Plus, you’ll be hiring my men at the same time.” Fighter gestured to his threadbare, thrift store clothing. “Ten or I’ll take my chances.”

“Your chances aren’t very good. You’ve seen what I can do.” Cook’s smile turned from coaxing to cruel.

He wanted to fucking cold cock the asshole into next week. He suddenly envisioned tipping back out of his chair and delivering a roundhouse kick to the fucker’s jaw. Perhaps he’d snap Cook’s neck and be done with this whole thing. But that would land him in jail, and where would that leave XiXi and the kids?

“Ten,” Fighter said firmly, fisting his hands beneath the table to keep his hands still. If he could just get his debt paid off and be free of this fucker, it would give him a chance to…

To what?

Date Brick was the first thing that came to mind.

But he couldn’t go there. Brick was a man so damaged by his past that he’d taken an innocent joke as a personal attack. Brick’s reaction on that night had been overboard and blown out of proportion. Fighter knew something like that had to have come from Brick’s past.

Perhaps he would take time for them to talk more? They hadn’t had much time over the past week and that was mainly his fault. Busy with the kids, the remodeling, and dodging Brick had been his MO.

Should he ask Brick for a meal? They could clear the air.

“All right. Ten, but you better make it look good,” Cook ordered, drawing him from his thoughts.

“I can do that,” Fighter said. Standing, he skirted around Cook’s men and left the restaurant.

He called for a ride because it was a long way back to his office from here and he was too tired and cold to wait for the bus. Also, he’d get home more quickly to the kids this way.

And to Brick.

He hauled ass around the side of the building, slipping through the mushy snow, and slumped against the wall.

“What the hell are you thinking?” he muttered, slamming the side of his fists against the stucco.

Sure, the guy looked put together, but Brick was a walking disaster. The man drove him crazy with the way he threw his money around. Although, most of it Brick assured him the landlord would pay because the guy didn’t want to be dragged through court. But the charges of the remodeling didn’t include all the things Brick showed up with every day. Like food and necessities plus clothes and toys for the kids.

He and Brick had had a blowout on the third day.

“What the fuck? A new day bed, plus the couch?”

“What?” Brick had looked guilty with his mouth open to take a bite of his burger. Yet, he’d looked sexy as fuck sitting all rumpled in the chair. The man’s company was something Fighter knew he could quickly get used to. He had to stop this, nip it right the hell now.

“Quit buying things.” He couldn’t afford to let Brick in.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t need your fucking charity.”

“It’s not charity if they’re gifts.”

“Gifts?” Fighter had gnashed his teeth and chomped on several fries.

“Yeah. Can’t I give gifts?”

“No.”

Brick dropped his eyes and stared down at his plate, and Fighter felt like a fucking shit for making the guy feel bad.

“Why are you doing it?”

“I want to. Plus, it makes the kids happy.”

“They aren’t your kids.”

The hurt that slammed into Brick’s eyes before he could glance away made Fighter feel like punching something.

“What’s the end game, Brick?”

The man’s head snapped up, that all-seeing gray gaze locked on him with a blistering heat and Fighter should have been prepared for the man’s next words, but he wasn’t.

“Go out with me.”

Fighter stared, lips parted.

“That ship has sailed.”

“I know. I sank the previous ship, but I’m trying to build a new one here,” Brick admitted, dropping the burger to his plate and leaning forward in the new leather office chair.

For the life of him, Fighter couldn’t come up with anything to say. All he could think about when Brick leaned in like that was kissing him.

Tires crunched in the parking lot and the Uber driver pulled up. Fighter sighed and stopped obsessing about Brick as he slid into the back seat.

He studied the passing scenery and thought about his next move.

Was he really contemplating giving Brick a chance?