Moody: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Read online

  “Now, I could really use some of those pain meds you promised.”

  His words break the spell, and my doctor mode kicks back in. There will be plenty of time after he’s healed to think about his words. But right now, the only thing that matters is taking care of him.

  Tomorrow I can think about his words.

  I’m in love with you, and if you’ll say yes, that I’m going to marry you.

  Tomorrow I can decide if loving Moody Brock is really enough.

  Chapter 25

  Moody

  Sunlight pours into the room through the blinds as I peel my eyelids open. Or at least my right eye. The other one seems to be glued shut.

  Memories of the fight come flooding back. Griffin’s fists. The crowd jeering as I took each blow. The words spoken that can never be unsaid. Then my botched confessions of love.

  I groan and rub a palm over my face.

  “You’re awake,” Izzy hovers over me, eyes shimmering with a mix of concern and relief.

  I stretch out on her queen size bed, grimacing when a sharp pain stabs at my core.

  “I’m pretty sure your ribs are just bruised, but without an x-ray I can’t know for sure.” She hands me a glass of water and two white pills, then tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ears that’s fallen out of the loose braid that trails down her back.

  The light catches the sky blue of her eyes, and the soft splatter of freckles across her nose. Her face is bare of make-up, and I swear the woman looks even more beautiful without it.

  Despite the pain that radiates throughout my body, my cock twitches at the sight of her breasts stretching the white material of her t-shirt, the soft curve of her hips against the green scrub bottoms she wears.

  “Do you have to work?” I run my hand over her hip, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin material. Only Izzy can make scrubs look sexy.

  “Soon.” She nods, chewing on her bottom lip, and I watch her face crease with worry.

  “What time is it?” With some effort, I sit up.

  “Almost noon.”

  I grunt and toss my legs over the side of the bed, then pop the pills and down the water.

  “How are you feeling?” Her words are strained and she’s avoiding my gaze.

  “Like I was hit by a bus.” Standing, I catch my reflection in her dresser mirror and wince. Black, blue, and purple bruises make my chest look like a Picasso. “I guess I look like it too.”

  Her mouth inches up in the corners, but I can feel the tension between us. I just don’t know if she’s upset with me about the fight or about telling her I love her.

  I move towards her. “What I said last night–”

  “Can wait.” She takes the glass from my hand and turns, heading towards the door. “I made you lunch.”

  Shit. There are the walls again. As high and fortified as ever.

  “I thought I smelled something burning,” I joke.

  That stops her, and she glances back at me a look of indignation crossing her pretty face. “I’m not that bad of a cook.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m not complaining.” I stalk towards her, tilting her chin with my thumb, and leaning in until I see her eyes widen, pupils dilate. “You more than make up for your lack of culinary skills in other areas.”

  “You’re terrible.” She gives me a genuine smile that makes my chest tighten.

  “Yeah, but you love me anyways.”

  She inhales deeply. “Moody, I–”

  I lean in and brush my lips over hers, mostly to stop any denial that she may come up with, because we both know it’s the truth. She just doesn’t want to admit it yet.

  With both hands, I cup her face, deepening the kiss until I feel her shudder against me.

  The warmth of her skin is better than any pain medication.

  “I do,” she says against my mouth, so quietly I almost don’t hear it.

  My throat constricts, and I hold my breath. I pull back slightly, just enough that I can see her eyes. They blink up at me, all big and round, and full of apprehension and uncertainty, but I don’t care, because her next words undo me.

  “I love you, too,” she chokes out, clenching her eyes shut, as if it’s almost painful for her to say. “I always have. Even after you left. My heart has always belonged to you.”

  With her hands on my bare chest, and me still cupping her face in my palms, I manage to keep my breathing steady, waiting, watching, until she finally opens her eyes and meets my gaze.

  So much passes between us in that single look, filling the empty hole in my chest that I didn’t even know existed until I met her.

  I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. “I knew it.”

  She shakes her head and grins.

  “You’re lucky I’m injured, because if I wasn’t I’d be tearing these clothes off you right now.”

  “And that’s lucky how?”

  “Because you have to be at work.”

  Her eyes widen. “Crap. I’m going to be late.”

  I don’t want her to leave. I’d love nothing more than to pick her up, carry her to the bed, and show her just how much I love her. But I won’t get in the way of her career, not when I know how important it is to her.

  She scurries around the room, grabbing her stuff. I watch her, a small smile playing on my lips, as I imagine our life together. I may have been hit one too many times in the head, because I’m pretty sure my brain has turned to mush as I think about everything I want to do with her, have with her, be with her.

  Izzy loves me. And that makes me the luckiest bastard in the world.

  “What?” She looks up at me, one shoe on, the other in her hand, brows raised.

  “I’m just happy.” I tilt my head and grin. “You make me happy.”

  A blush spreads across her cheeks, then she licks her lips and looks away. “We still have to talk.”

  “There’s a lot of things we still have to do,” I say, pulling her against my body, and running my hands down her back, brushing my lips against the shell of her ear. “Walls and couches.” My mouth skims her neck, tongue darting out and tasting the soft skin. “Showers and floors…”

  Her body trembles and her breath comes out on a small moan.

  “But not right now.” I smack her ass and grin down at her. “You’re going to be late.”

  It takes her a few seconds to compose herself. I love that I do that to her.

  “I’ll be back soon.” Her hand rests on my bare chest and I can tell she doesn’t want to leave. “I have Kate covering the second half of my shift.”

  “I’ll be here.” Because I have no plans on leaving.

  The corners of her lips lift, then she drops her hand with a heavy sigh. “Theo called twice. He still sounds really upset.”

  “Yeah.” Following her down the hall towards the foyer, I exhale heavily. I imagine Theo’s pissed.

  “There’s a sandwich on the counter.” She gives me a small smile before shutting the door behind her.

  I smile despite everything, because there’s a part of this that just seems so ordinary. Like this could actually be our life. That maybe for once, things are starting to look up. But I know there’s still a shit mess of things I still have to do. The first is calling Theo, and seeing what damage I’ve done.

  My cell is nowhere to be found, and neither is my bag, which has my car keys, wallet and change of clothes.

  “Shit.” I run my hands through the tangles in my hair, the movement causing a stabbing sensation down my right torso, and making me curse more. Everything must still be at the warehouse. All I have are the boxer briefs I’m wearing, and the pair of shorts I fought in last night. I don’t even have my damn shoes.

  Shit, what a scene I must have made leaving that damn building.

  With nothing else to do, I devour the sandwich Izzy made me, then shower, feeling every pellet of water like a bullet on my skin. My ink hides most of the bruises, but it’ll be weeks before my ribs are fully healed.


  With some difficulty, I manage to get my shorts on, at the same time a knock sounds at the door.

  When I open it, Theo is standing on the other side, dark eyes brooding and full of barely contained frustration.

  “I went back and got your stuff.” He hands my duffle bag to me, wincing when he scans my exposed chest. “You look like shit.”

  “Feel like it.”

  “We need to talk.”

  I nod, knowing by the look on his face that whatever he has to say isn’t going to be good.

  Theo moves into the apartment and starts pacing. I take the time to grab a t-shirt from the bag, and gingerly pull it over my head.

  “You want to tell me what the fuck that was all about last night?”

  “Just settling an old debt.” I sit down on the recliner with a groan. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew you would have fought me on it.”

  “Damn straight I would have. Do you know how much shit you’re in?”

  “Tell me.” I expected this. Knew the consequences.

  “They’re threatening to cancel your fight in Vegas. Some jackass uploaded a video of the fight last night on YouTube and it’s gone viral. Got a call this morning from Fitz. It’s not good.”

  “Shit.”

  “Fitz is claiming your contract is void.”

  “So I don’t fight.” I shrug. It’s a good paycheck, one I could really use, but it’s not the end of the world.

  Theo stares at me, and his mouth drops open. He starts to say something, then stops and shakes his head.

  “I had to do this.” My ribs are starting to throb again, and so is my head.

  “You know they may never give you another opportunity like this.” His chin lowers, gaze studying me.

  “Yeah.” I crack my neck, a rush of emotions swelling inside me. My whole life I’ve been a fighter. It’s been what defines me. Now the only thing I want to fight for is Izzy’s heart.

  “You’re really willing to throw in the towel?”

  I smirk, eyebrows raised. “You’re the one that showed me there are better things to fight for. I’ve found mine.”

  With a heavy sigh, Theo sits down on the couch across for me. “I can’t argue with that.”

  “No.”

  We sit in silence for a few moments, both pensive.

  “What are you planning on doing, if you’re not going to fight?” He leans forward elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin.

  “Not sure yet. Something that doesn’t involve having my face smashed in on a regular basis.”

  Theo laughs. “Well you’ve always got a job as a trainer at the club.”

  “Thanks.” It’s something. But it’s not enough to make Izzy proud of me. To support her the way she deserves. It was the fighting that screwed everything up. It always had. “But I think it’s time to retire the gloves.”

  Chapter 26

  Izzy

  Five hours is too long to be away from Moody. I’m aching to see him, to touch him. To tell him I want more. There are so many odds against us, so many reasons why we shouldn’t be together. Still, the thought of a future without him leaves an empty pit in my stomach.

  I toss my purse on the passenger seat and get in the car.

  Fifteen minutes and I’ll be home in Moody’s arms. Bruised and battered as they are, I have a feeling that I’m going to need to be a bit creative in showing him just how much I want to be with him.

  My cell buzzes on the seat beside my purse, and my gut twists when I see the name displayed on the screen – Jason.

  “Asshole,” I mutter.

  I should ignore it, but there’s a part of me that wants to tear the man to shreds for what he did.

  I press the Bluetooth button and seethe, “You’ve got a lot of nerve–”

  “Easy, darling.” Jason’s voice grates through the speakers. “I’ve got a message for you.”

  “How about this message. Go fuck yourself.”

  “Such ugly words from such a pretty, talented mouth.” He chuckles.

  His innuendo makes me shudder.

  “What do you want?” I feel thrown off by his words, dirty. The only man I ever want touching me, to ever think about touching me is Moody.

  “I called to let you know your boyfriend’s contract is void. Since he isn’t picking up his cell, I thought you could give him the good news.” Jason’s voice hardens. “He still owes me money, and there won’t be any deals this time.”

  “He did what you asked.” My gut twists in a knot.

  “Not quite. That little display he put on last night wasn’t as impressive as it could have been, and now I’ve got people complaining that the fight was rigged.”

  “It was,” I shout, fingers whitening over the steering wheel as I come to a red light. “What would your people say if they knew the truth? That you conned the whole thing. Griffin might be scared of you, but I’m not. I have no qualms about telling anyone who’ll listen what an immoral, treacherous bastard you really are.”

  “Watch yourself, Isabelle. You don’t have any idea what I’m capable of.”

  “Is that a threat?” My hands are shaking now and I have to fight to calm the fear rising inside of me.

  “It’s reality,” Jason growls out. “I want my money by the end of the week, or you can tell your boyfriend he can kiss his fighting career goodbye.”

  My stomach sinks. I don’t doubt that Jason has that type of power.

  “He doesn’t have that kind of money.” And neither do I.

  “Then you better start thinking of another way to make it up to me.” A small rumble of laughter echoes across the line. “Two days, Isabelle.”

  The call ends and I nearly crash into the back of the vehicle in front of me when it comes to a stop. My wheels squeal as I slam on the brakes.

  “Damn it.” I hit my palms against the steering wheel, feeling an overwhelming sense of panic. Not for me, not even for Moody, but for our future that is already so unsure.

  I know what Jason wants. It isn’t me. Not really. It isn’t even that he wants to win. What he wants is revenge for losing, and nothing will stop him until he gets it.

  As I pull to a stop in front of my apartment, a plan already starts forming in my mind. A plan that will put an end to Jason’s threats for good.

  I just hope that Moody will forgive me when it’s all over.

  Chapter 27

  Moody

  My mood takes a nosedive the minute I see Izzy. Not because I haven’t fantasized about seeing her for the last five hours – I have. But because she’s got that look. The one that says something is seriously wrong.

  “Bad day?” I ask, coming up behind her when she drops her purse on the counter.

  “Just long.” When she turns around, her gaze stays glued to the floor.

  “Want to talk about it?” I lower my head, inches from hers, and rest my palm on her cheek.

  She shakes her head. “Did you call Theo?”

  “Yeah. He stopped by earlier with my stuff. I left my cell and bag at the warehouse last night.”

  “Oh.” Her mouth turns down slightly, and she brushes past me, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. “Have you checked your voicemails?”

  “No. Battery’s dead. Why?”

  “I was just trying to get a hold of you earlier.” She takes a swig from the bottle, still not meeting my gaze.

  “Want to tell me what’s really wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She looks at me then, eyes clouded. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  I feel like something has changed between us, like once again she’s put a barricade around herself.

  Fuck that.

  I move toward her, taking the bottle from her hand, and wrap my arms around her waist. “I missed you.”

  “I was only gone a few hours.” Her body betrays the aloofness of her voice. She melts into me, trembling as I skim a hand up her back, tangling my fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, and forc
ing her to look at me.

  “You missed me too,” I growl out, demanding an answer.

  “Maybe.” She licks her lips, and despite how hard she tries not to smile, her mouth curves up at one side.

  Her hips rock towards me, thighs parting as I push closer.

  “I’ve been dying to fuck you since you left.”

  “You’re hurt.” Her fingers trail up my chest, curling in the fabric of my t-shirt.

  “Your touch makes the pain go away.” I nip at her ear. “You’re my doctor. Isn’t it your job to make me feel better?”

  She laughs. “So you’re okay with me treating all my patients this way?”

  “No.” I slap her ass. “But I think I deserve a few extra perks.”

  “Really?” Her brows raise, blue eyes sparkling, and the tension from earlier all but gone. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m the man you’re going to marry.”

  Her breath catches and she starts to pull back.

  “Why deny what’s fated?” I kiss her, reminding her who she belongs to, who her body responds to. Heat races through me as my tongue licks and strokes, penetrating her lips with a slow, sensual glide.

  She shivers and gives a small whimper. “Since when do you believe in fate?”

  “Since you.” My mouth brushes against hers, and I watch her pupils flare. “Admit that you want me. That you ache for me. That there’s no one else but me.”

  “You’re impossible.” Her gaze turns somber, a flash of uncertainty sparking deep in her blue eyes.

  She’s hiding something.

  “And you’re mine.” I lower my mouth to her neck, raking my teeth and tongue over the sensitive flesh. She arches against me, head tilting to the side to give me better access. “So you better get used to it.”

  Her breathing quickens, breasts rising and falling beneath the thin cotton shirt.

  “Do you trust me, Izzy?” My hand slips underneath the fabric and I cup her breast, pulling down her bra, so that I have access to her taut nipple.

  “Yes.” The sincerity in her answer makes my chest clench.