Real by Evans Katie

Author:Evans, Katie [Katie, Evans,]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It’s all he’s had that he can control in his life. Growing up, it was pure rejection for Rem. It’s damn near impossible to get him to open up. Even with those who’ve been with him so long.”

“How do you think his parents knew where we were? I thought this house was to keep the

press away since the egg incident?”

“Because this is Rem’s house,” Pete says as I spot the charming red barn looming ahead

across the lawns. “After he got out, he made money fighting, then he got this house, trying to prove to the old folks that he could be someone … The folks still didn’t want anything to do with him. He got stuck with the house and now only uses it when we’re in the city to keep the press from hounding him at the hotels. He has a lot of fans in Austin.”

I feel shot at from all sides with this information. Pure undiluted outrage for young Remy

fills me to my core, making me sound breathless. “What kind of parents abandon their child like they did, Pete? And why on earth would they look for him now?”

Pete sighs. “Why indeed.” He shakes his head ruefully, then we spot Remington inside the

open barn, hitting a speedball Coach has hung from the rafters. Looking slightly panicked, Pete instantly snatches me up by the elbow and draws me closer. “Don’t let on that you know

anything about this, I beg you. He’s been in a pissed-off mood ever since he knew we were

coming here. His parents drive him totally speedy too, and his temper is for shit these days.”

I nod and squeeze back his elbow. “I won’t. Thanks for the confidence.”

“Hey, B, you might try stretching him, his form’s not ideal. Coach thinks it’s a lower back

knot,” Riley calls.

Nodding, I walk over, and I hear, rather than see, Remington punching the bag harder and

faster with each step I take closer to him. Frankly, I’m surprised that he doesn’t stop when I stand right next to him.

“Coach isn’t happy with your form and Riley thinks I can help,” I say, and as I watch this

lean, mesmerizing creature keep slamming the speedball with both rolling fists, a deep,

concentrated frown on his face, I can’t help but admire what Remington has made with himself despite the rejection he faced when he was younger.

“Remy?” I prod.

He doesn’t answer, and instead shifts sideways and pounds one fist after the other in a

matter of nanoseconds, making that poor bag fly.

“Will you let me stretch you?” I go on.

He tilts his body yet again and gives me all his gorgeous back, and keeps on hitting like

mad . I want to touch him, especially after everything Pete told me, so I drop the elastic band at my feet, for now the last thing I want is anything between him and me.

“Are you going to answer me, Remy?” My voice drops as I step closer, reaching out with

one arm.

Whack, whack, whack…

I touch his back. He stiffens, drops his head, and whips around, removes his boxing gloves,

and tosses them aside.

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