I Need You To Love Me, page 22
From here, I witness a nasty bruise forming on Ace’s cheekbone. The medic applies ice to it for the duration of the brief break.
Ace’s trainer leans into me. “Ace is trying to figure out what Raphael’s weak point is,” he yells just as the second round is about to start.
“What if he doesn’t have one?” I yell back over the roaring of the crowd.
“Everyone has a weak point.”
“What’s Ace’s?”
His trainer raises both brows as if to say there’s no way he’s telling me the pivotal information about the most successful champion in the world. I respect him for that.
I return my attention to the fight as Ace and Raphael are given the go-ahead. This time, Raphael wastes no time, eager to use the element of surprise. He swings for Ace’s face, and Ace effortlessly takes a step back. At the same time, he watches Raphael’s left shoulder. I follow his observation.
Ace has uncovered his opponent’s weak point. Each time Raphael swings, there’s a minor flinch of his shoulder. A previous injury, perhaps. It’s unnoticeable if you don’t know what to look for.
A feral grin coats Ace’s face. The fight is over just as quickly as it began. Ace rounds his prey, ducks at the appropriate moment to avoid another gloved fist flying his way. The panic is abundantly present on Raphael’s face. He knows the end is nearing just by looking at Ace’s stance.
This is nothing like Ace’s fights back in college. He was a leopard then. Now, he’s evolved into a lion. Rampant, unpredictable—such a wondrous creature. He stalks his prey to the ropes and unleashes the beast.
19
Craving Chaos
Calla
Ace is in the living room, perched against the edge of the kitchen counter, dressed in a cream cotton T-shirt and black shorts. I don’t know whether I prefer him in a suit or like this. Both forms are marvelous.
“We’re leaving today?” I ask when I notice his suitcase by the door.
“After breakfast.”
I didn’t get to see much of Ace last night. After winning the fight, he had publicity conferences and interviews. By the time everything concluded, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The previous night of not sleeping, and a full day out, caught up to me.
“Is Theo married?” I question Ace when we’re driving through the narrow streets, our suitcases packed and in the trunk.
“He is.”
“Is he getting a divorce by any chance?” I hope Theo wasn’t lying and, I’m inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Not that I know of. He’s only been married less than a year.”
I close my eyes and exhale. The situation is more complex than I anticipated. “Would he lie to sleep with Mia?”
He considers my question before asking his own. “Did he sleep with Mia?”
“Yes.”
At this, he shakes his head in disbelief, and his entire mood shifts—married men and infidelity strikes close to home for Ace. So perhaps bringing Theo up today was an awful idea. I hope it doesn’t ruin the rest of the day for us.
I rest my hand on his in reassurance. “Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” I reason, even though the uncertainties swimming in my head say otherwise.
Ace doesn’t reply. Instead, he interlaces our fingers and silently stares out the window. Although I can’t hear his thoughts, I can sense them. The irritation is plainly written on his expression.
Denzel pulls up to the dock, and I realize we’re going on a boat on the Seine. When Ace said we’d be going to breakfast, I didn’t think it would be on the river with the finest views of the Eiffel Tower.
A picnic is laid out for us toward the back of the boat with fruit, croissants, cheeses, and macarons. “This is amazing.”
“I thought this would be the best way to see Paris in an hour.”
The boat glides through the river at a steady pace, and my gaze leaps from side to side. Luscious foliage trees on either side peek in the distance, forming a boundary around the banks. The famous Eiffel Tower, made of iron and woven like lace, stretches to the cloudless sky. The views surrounding us are truly breathtaking, and the fact that I’m in Paris with Ace still feels surreal.
You’d never think of Ace as a romantic, but he persists in surprising me every day. “I have something for you,” he admits once we’re stretched out on the blanket.
“Hmm?” I swallow the mouthful of flaked pastry and lift a takeaway cup of hot coffee to my mouth.
“Close your eyes,” he orders, and I roll them before doing as he said. No point arguing with Ace. He always gets his way.
Ace takes my hand, and a cool metal object touches my skin. “Open.”
A rose-gold bracelet hangs from my wrist. My heart soars out of my chest. It’s a Cartier love bracelet covered in diamonds, one of the ones you need a screwdriver to unlock. It has something to do with sealing your love. I twist my hand, examining it in awe as it sparkles under the glimmering sun.
It’s probably worth more than my whole years’ salary. “Ace… It’s beautiful but—”
“Calla,” he interrupts, grasping what I’m about to say. “I have more money than I know what to do with. Let me spend it on you.”
There are many reasons why I feel uncomfortable taking expensive gifts from men, but the reason with Ace is different from everyone else. With him, it’s as though he’s trying to make up for the past when he doesn’t need to. It’s already enough that he’s here.
“Consider it an early birthday present,” he adds, probably noting the unsure look on my face. My birthday is in two days, and of course, he remembered.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” I’m unable to take my eyes off it. I wonder if he gave it to me knowing the whole meaning behind it.
“I have taken the rest of the week off. So it’s going to be just you and me,” he reveals, and my heart beats faster at the power that phrase holds over me.
You and me.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” A smile forms on my face.
He echoes it. “Somewhere warm and sunny with a private beach.”
Being with Ace is like breathing. It’s tranquil and feels like second nature. However, occasionally breathing becomes difficult for me, and I begin drowning inside.
For the last four years, I’ve been numb. I’ve gotten used to just living and not feeling. I guess in some ways, it was easier like that, not caring enough to be disappointed or hurt, having men fall at my feet because I’m not the one who gets attached. We all know men hate commitment—well, at least until you won’t give it to them. Men want what they can’t have, it’s as simple and as complicated as that. But maybe it’s not just men. Perhaps it’s the entire human race.
Then Ace came into my life again, flipping everything upside down, making me understand why no one can make me feel the way he does. I’ve tried to run from it, but a part of me craves him. I crave the chaos that makes me feel. I crave him. There’s no other way to describe it except that it’s like an addiction. The more I get, the more I want, even though I recognize it’s foolish and detrimental.
Staring out the small window of the jet, my mind wanders to the things we probably will never understand. Is everything interconnected? If a specific event in my life didn’t happen back then, would I be where I am today?
We’re flying above the clouds to somewhere sunny with a private beach. That sentence has never even crossed my mind, but here I am.
Ace sits across from me with his laptop on his knees. Running his fingers over his stubble, he furrows his eyebrows a few times as he scans the information displayed on the screen.
“Anything I can help with?” I recline in my seat after takeoff. I always get anxious when a plane takes off and lands because most plane crashes occur on the runway.
Ace glances at me, and I see the flicker in his eyes like he’s considering giving me a generic answer but then changes his mind. Instead, he says, “There’s a client who owes me a lot of money. He’s been gambling at fights and not paying up. I’m currently conducting some research on him.”
“What happens now?”
“He’ll be taken care of.” His voice is low while he notes my expression. Ace places his laptop to the side, stands, and moves toward me.
“By you?” I probe when he braces his hand against the back of my seat, towering over me. He smells like the cologne I’ve gotten used to over the last couple of weeks, and it’s alluring.
“Something like that.” He doesn’t break our eye contact. He’s opening up, showing me glimpses of what no one else sees. Revealing what’s underneath the guard he’s put up in front of the rest of the world. “Does that make you uncomfortable?” Ace questions, but I know he’s asking if it makes me uncomfortable with him.
“No, you’re not a bad person.” I knew that from the start. Even though he acted like an asshole the first time we met, he was fighting his demons. And the more I got to know him, the more I understood.
He chuckles coldly. “Some would disagree.”
“They don’t know you.”
He shakes his head and takes a step back. “You’ve always tried to find the good in me. What if there was none to begin with? It’s like you’re blind to the crimes I’ve committed, to the burdens I live with…”
“You’ve always tried to convince me you’re not good, but every decision you’ve made up to this point has never been just about you.” Instead, everything has been about his family, about Ellie. From his illegal fighting to help out with money when his dad left to doing what it takes for Ellie’s treatment.
I doubt he’s even blinked an eye over what this all means for him. He did what he had to do. Sacrificed more than most people would risk. And yet, he’s so set on thinking the worst of himself.
Does it have anything to do with his past? The accident? His father?
Denzel drives us through Sicily’s streets, and I watch as we pass the architectural buildings. In the span of a couple of days, Paris and Italy have my head in a daze. After about an hour, Denzel draws to a halt in front of an incredible villa towering over the seaside. We pass through a set of black gates, and Denzel parks the car near the entry.
The villa is whimsical and luxurious. It’s three stories and has what appears like the best views in the whole country. On top of that, white stairs lead to a private beach, just as Ace promised.
I stand on the balcony and look out into the distance. The brilliant water sparkles with the reflection of the sun. It’s the most electrifying blue I’ve ever seen and clear—crystal clear.
“I need to take care of a few things here. It shouldn’t take long.” Ace appears behind me. “If you need anything, Denzel will be out the front until I get back.”
I twist to face him, and he props his arms on either side of the glass rail behind me, his body inches from mine.
“What if I need something else?” I rest my hand on his chest and gently tug against the collar of his shirt.
Mischief lights his face, and I can’t take my eyes off him. I step on my tiptoes and press my lips against his. They’re soft but possessive, and in an instant, his hands are on my hips, pulling me closer toward him. He tastes like everything I never knew I needed.
“Calla…” he murmurs against my mouth. “I’d thought you’d prefer indoors this time.”
“Outdoors has always been our thing.”
“I won’t be long,” he reassures me again, gripping my hips. “Dinner after?”
“Sure.”
“Good.” He pulls away but pauses near the balcony doors and turns. “And, Calla?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m having you,” he says casually and walks inside toward the front door.
I lean against the rail, and my heart races with anticipation, but that feeling is quickly replaced when I hear the door shut. Every possibility churns through my mind. What does Ace need to take care of in Sicily?
Plane rides make me feel tired and dirty, and I need to take my mind off the constant worry, so I take a bath. Sitting in the living room afterward, I dial Mia’s number, but it goes straight to voice mail. It’s not that unusual for Mia. She’s able to go days without picking up her phone, but the fact that the last time I heard from her was when she was with Theo doesn’t make me feel better.
I decide to try Mia again later and call my dad instead.
“Hey, Cals, is everything okay?” My dad asks when he answers. His voice directs a feeling of nostalgia through me.
“Yeah, everything is fine.” I tread toward the balcony in my white bathrobe. I don’t bother explaining anything over the phone. It’s a conversation for another time, for when I can figure out how to bring it up.
The fact that I’m in another country with a man would be enough for him to have a heart attack. I’ve never brought a man home to my dad, apart from Nate, but he’s more of a family friend than anything else.
“I was thinking about coming up next weekend if you don’t have any plans.” I haven’t seen my dad in a while, and after these two weeks with Ace, I need to clear my head, put space between us to see how we’ll work when we’re not together most hours of the day.
Telling my dad about Ace, about who he is, has crossed my mind more than once. I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to. I guess I’ll have to make that decision soon. Eventually, I’ll have to introduce Ace to my dad. It’s inevitable if we choose to stay in each other’s life.
The question is, can I keep this secret from my dad for the rest of my life, or should I put everything on the line and hope he understands just to relieve my conscience?
“It’s perfect. I’ll organize a late birthday dinner. Maybe invite Nate and his dad? And Uncle Dave?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll let you know my flight details when I book it.”
Ending the call, I glance around, not sure what to do. I’m on a beautiful island, and I’m not going to spend my time cooped up inside. I slip on a white cotton dress, which is perfect for this weather, release my hair from its bun, and track a brush through it.
“Miss,” Denzel addresses me when I step out the front door.
“Denzel,” I greet him. “Call me Calla, please. I’m going for a walk. I noticed shops by the beach when we were driving past.” I explain.
“Okay.” He gives me a nod.
Okay? That was easy. I don’t know why I thought it wouldn’t be. I begin walking along the cobblestone pathway, but I turn to the sound of footsteps behind me. Denzel halts when I do.
We hold eye contact until he speaks. “Uh, the boss made it clear that I’m to stay within close range to you at all times.”
Ah, of course he did. “Well, I guess we’re going for a walk, Denzel.”
I stroll through the streets and toward the main beach. Denzel doesn’t make an effort to catch up to me. Instead, he mimics my pace and keeps his distance. I cross the boardwalk toward the beach. Removing my sandals, I amble barefoot on the sand. Even though it’s around six, the sun is still out.
I stare into the distance, and my head whirls with endless thoughts. I came here to get my mind off things, yet here I am doing the complete opposite.
This thing with Ace, whatever it is, feels too good—almost unrealistic in a way. The last time it was like this, everything came crashing down within the blink of an eye. So I’m preparing myself for that again. Some would call that catastrophizing, my therapist would call it anxiety. I call it saving myself from disappointment.
A bird captures my attention, and my gaze follows it as it glides over my head and lands on the boardwalk. Maybe it’s some sort of sign. An omen. Or just the universe highlighting my doubts, reminding me that nothing can stay good for long.
Because that’s when I notice him.
Ace sits at a restaurant table across the narrow boardwalk. From a distance, I notice how he tilts his head back a little and laughs at something the woman in front of him said. I instantly recognize her. Cassidy.
Her dark hair cascades in small curls down her face, and she leans across the wooden table, stroking her hand over his. My chest crams with a heaviness I’m not accustomed to, and everything halts for an extended moment.
It’s not that Ace is with another woman that bothers me the most, although it’s something that pains me as well. What bothers me the most is that he didn’t enlighten me he was doing this. I thought we were past the lying and the half-truths.
I thought wrong.
If the situation were reversed, and I was having dinner with another man without telling Ace, I could only imagine what his reaction would be.
I’m not going to make a scene, but I’m also not going to go back to the villa and pretend like I didn’t see this. Instead, I head toward the bar in need of a drink. Or five.
20
She Owns Me
Ace
Cass twirls the champagne glass in her hand and raises it to her broad mouth. She sips on it slowly and swallows, smacking her lips together. Finally, her impossibly vivid eyes land on me.
“I need you to handle something.” I cut through the shit and get straight to business. Time is money, or in this case—time is Calla.
It’s not a coincidence that Cass is here in Sicily. It’s a beautiful island, and Cass is fond of keeping tabs on what I’m doing like it’s her fucking business.
Each second at this table feels like a waste of fucking time. However, this dinner will inevitably take longer than I’d like it to. Cass has always enjoyed playing games, and I used to play them with her. For a while, it was the only thing distracting me enough not to succumb to the most sinister part of my mind. Cass demonstrated how to draw a line between my inner shadows and sanity, but her line is a twisted vine.
