“As in the championship?” I clarify.
“Yeah,” is all he says.
I tilt my head. “I take it you don’t like him very much?”
He shakes his head. “Fighting outside the ring is strictly prohibited, and we all sign a contract that states that we won’t do it. We fight—we get booted, without hesitation. There are too many guys chomping at the bit to take our spots for the company to worry about loose cannons. Assassin has begged for an ass beatin’ for a while, but the fucker knows I won’t touch him. He gets under my skin, and he loves to push my buttons.”
“So what did he do to antagonize you? Was it over a woman?”
His brow furrows. “What makes you assume that?”
I shrug. “Seems like that’s one thing you’re willing to fight over—contract or not. You were ready to pound Jared over me back at the club earlier, so I just assumed.”
“You assumed wrong. I don’t fight over women.”
“So then why did you protect me? You didn’t hesitate for even one second to call out Jared.” I try to point out how he’s just contradicted himself.
His blue eyes search my face, like he’s looking for answers to that very question for himself. “I don’t know how to explain it, and I’m sure I’ll fuck this up when I try to because it sounds crazy even to me.”
I reach over and touch his hand, wanting to hear his reasons so badly I can taste it. “Try.”
His tongue darts out and licks his lips. “Have you ever felt a connection with someone without even knowing them? When I look at you, I see goodness. I’ve not had a lot of good shit happen to me in my life, so when I see something pure, I’m drawn to it.”
I trace my fingers over his hand. “What do you mean? You have an awesome career, you’re famous…how is that not good?”
“That stuff isn’t real. It can all go away in a heartbeat.” He pulls away and rubs his face. “I told you I’d fuck this up. I guess what I’m trying to get at is that I’m alone. Other than Nettie and Carl, I have no family—no one. I’ve been on my own a long time, not living the way I should, and at one point I dug myself into a hole so deep, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out alive. It’s not a life many people want to get mixed up in. Working here saved me. Detroit is a rough place, so when I see a nice girl like you coming into a city filled with pricks like me, I worry. I don’t want you to become jaded down the road when the world’s cruel realities set in. You have too much light to be clouded by the dark.”
I smile. It’s crazy to think he’s so compassionate about me after only a few hours and while his intensity is unfathomable, I’m completely flattered. “So you’re saying you want to become my personal bodyguard and protect me from the big bad city?” I tease.
He reaches back for my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “There are lots of things I would like to do to your body, but yeah, if you want to look at it like that, guarding it from other guys is definitely a top priority.”
I giggle as heat rushes to my face. Oh, how I would like to tell him to do with me as he pleases, but I know I’ll hate myself if I allow some man I barely know use me like that. I may not have much experience with men, but I’ve seen enough in movies and read enough books to know that a lot of men toss women aside after they get what they want from them. Even if that man causes tingles to explode throughout every inch of me with one simple touch. I don’t think I could do that if he didn’t love me.
Gah! I have to stop thinking about him that way. Every time I think about him, my stupid brain thinks of sex—more specifically, what sex would be like with him. How it would feel. How he would taste.
I need a subject change. Fast. “So how long are you on vacation?”
“A little over a week. You going to miss me when I head back out on the road?” He smiles, fishing for information.
I shrug, trying not to take the bait, but eventually give in and smile. “I might. You are my friend, and official bodyguard in Detroit, after all.”
He rubs his thumb over the side of my hand. “What about you? What are your plans now that you’re all settled in and have started making friends with the locals?”
“A job, I guess. Quinn got me a job at Larry’s Bar and Grill with her. I start tomorrow.”
The idea of having my first real job scares the crap out of me. It’s not like I’m doing this for pocket change—this job will be the only means I have of supporting myself. I have zero job experience, and even less of an idea of how to be a good waitress. If I fail at this, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
“What’s that look for?” Xavier asks, pulling me out of my thoughts of impending failure. “No frowning, remember?”
“Sorry, I’m nervous about tomorrow. I should probably be getting back to Quinn’s so I can rest up for my first day of work.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” He glances down at his watch. “You’re right, it’s getting late.” He leans over to the side, fishes his wallet from his back pocket, and lays several one hundred dollar bills on the table before setting his plate on top of it.
My eyes widen. Holy crap! He’s rich—like can-buy-anything-he-wants-rich—and yet he’s generous. All the wealthy people I know are tightwads. They would never leave a tip like that, family or not.