COWBOY: Black Ops MMA Book Four by D.M. Davis

Author:D.M. Davis [Davis, D.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Black Ops MMA Book 4
Publisher: D.M. Davis
Published: 2022-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

I want to throw up.

CHER HAS TAYLOR TUCKED INTO HER side on the couch as Cap finishes up with the police officers who showed up to take her statement and the note the asshole left her, and dust her car for prints. Feeling useless in my skin that feels too tight, I stand sentry, wanting to be the one to comfort my Songbird and be the one who takes care of the cops. Currently, I’m neither. I’m just the discarded ex, temperamental boss, and wannabe friend who doesn’t know which way is up when it comes to her.

I was an ass earlier. I was pissed and acting like an idiot to push her away, too wrapped up in my own shit to remember she has something bigger and far more important going on than my hurt feelings.

I was coming out to apologize, wanting to catch her after her set, before she went back to serving. I didn’t make it in time to see what happened. I’d only rounded the corner from the office, coming up short when I witnessed her disappear in the crowd, dropping out of sight. My heart dropped with her.

It took me a second to comprehend what was happening. Panic and anger fought for dominance as I pushed through the crowd to find her on all fours in a blind panic, heaving like her insides had done her wrong.

My instinct to save, comfort, extricate her from the situation overran the logic that perhaps being manhandled was not what she needed. Yet she let Jess touch her. She practically leapt from my arms into his.

It was my touch she didn’t want. That knowledge burns my regret into my soul. She didn’t want my help.

Does she still feel that way?

Have I pushed too far?

Are my mistakes too great to come back from?

Are hers?

Is it fair to still be butthurt about her leaving me when we were kids? She didn’t have a choice. She was young, couldn’t even drive yet. What was she supposed to do? Run away? To where? Would she have known how to find me in Dallas? Did I give her enough details? She had my full name and my phone number. She knew where I played football. Her parents didn’t keep her phone forever. She could have reached out to me at least once in the months that followed, but instead she left me high and dry, wrecked with silence, and my own imagination of the reasons she never contacted me too dark to explore.

I want to pretend we’ve already worked through it all, forgiven each other, and move forward, forgetting she broke my heart and my ability to love and trust another woman.

I want to hold her when she’s sad.

I want to love her when she’s cantankerous and believing she’s unworthy.

I want to live in her sunshine when she unleashes her life-altering smile because of something I did or said.

I want to be the reason she stays.

The reason she never leaves.

The reason for each and every day that follows.

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