Naked Choke (A Stepbrother MMA Romance) Read online

  "Just being a concerned citizen. How 'bout you return to the party?" Logan suggests with a calm I find amazing to witness, considering the size of the man in front of him.

  "How 'bout you mind your own fucking business?" Vince retorts, then reaches up with both hands to shove Logan in the chest. To my surprise, Logan shakes his head as he stumbles back a step.

  "I really wouldn't do that," he says in the same even voice.

  "You fucking pussy," Vince says, raising his arms again. But this time, Logan grabs his arm and twists, and to my shock, Vince is suddenly bent over backward with his right arm looped through one of Logan's. "The fuck…" Vince begins, then lets out a sharp yelp as Logan does something to his hand.

  "Don't move. This is called an arm bar, though all you really need to know is that I could break your arm in a second. Got it?" Logan asks. Vince grunts, sweat forming on his brow. "There are two lessons for you to learn here," Logan continues, as though he's in front of a class. "One, when a woman says no, you should respect her decision. And two, there is always someone who can kick your ass. Nod your head yes that you understand." Vince obediently nods. "Good."

  He releases Vince, who jumps away from him, his eyes wide. Logan makes a slight move toward him, and Vince takes the hint. He gives Logan a wide berth as he heads back out the hallway and toward the front doors of the bowling alley. Logan looks back to make sure he left, then turns toward the men's bathroom without even looking at me.

  The door to the restroom is closing behind him before I manage to squeak out, "Thanks!" It shuts behind him and I'm not even sure he heard me. I stand in shock over what just happened. The door to the woman's room opens and a middle-aged woman walks out.

  "Sorry for the wait!" she says, shaking her hands dry.

  "No problem," I mumble. I look toward the party as she walks down the hallway. No one's turned this way. It all happened so quickly and quietly that no one even noticed.

  Chapter Three

  "Hey, you OK?" Maya asks me as I walk back over to our lane.

  "Um, yeah, I guess so," I reply, giving myself an internal review. I mean, I did panic when Vince tried to make a move on me, but Logan acted so quickly I feel like I almost imagined the whole thing. I look over to see him sitting back in his chair, watching his phone again like nothing happened. I stare at him for a moment. Should I say something in front of everyone?

  Maya nudges me. "Hey, weirdo, it's your turn."

  "Right, sorry," I reply with a little shake of my head. I bowl a four this time, and spot Austen smiling at me as I walk back.

  "Guess your birthday luck's run out," he says with a grin.

  "Yeah, I think you might be right about that," I respond drily. The rest of the afternoon passes by quickly, maybe because a part of my brain feels like it's disconnected, off trying to analyze the day's events. Before I know it, I'm blowing out the candles on the layer cake my mom bought and the guests are waving goodbye.

  Duke and his sons are among the first to leave. "Sorry, gotta get back to the gym," he explains, before surprising me by leaning in to give me a stiff hug. "See you soon."

  "Yeah, thanks for coming," I reply. Austen gives me a wave and a wink before heading out, but Logan doesn't even make eye contact. I frown after them. What is that guy's deal? He steps in like some caped crusader but he has the manners of a rude eight year-old.

  After everyone else leaves, Maya and I walk to the parking lot by her car. My mom has some cleaning up to do inside, and she refuses to let me help on my birthday.

  Wasting no time, Maya grabs my arm as soon as we're outside. "OK, so was it just my imagination, or was Austen completely flirting with you?"

  "Well, I think he actually asked me out on a date," I confess.

  Maya gasps. "Wait, you think?"

  "He invited me to an MMA fight."

  "No, that's great. That's what he does – which, by the way, is so effing hot – and he wants you to know more about it. He wants to share his life with you!"

  "I don't know about that! Plus, he's Duke's son."

  "So? I mean, hello? You're not related to the guy. Ugh, I wish an older guy would ask me out. I'm so tired of these high school guys."

  "Tell me about it," I murmur. I'm about to let her in on what happened with Vince, but my mom walks out with a bag of presents in one hand and the remnants of the cake in the other.

  "All set!" she calls out happily. "Did you enjoy yourself, Cat?"

  "Yes, it was great, Mom," I assure her.

  "Bye, Joanne!" Maya says with a wave to my mom. "Thanks for the party! And Happy Birthday, Cat!"

  "Bye, sweetie!" my mom calls back as Maya gets in her car. She places the cake on the roof of the car as she unlocks it, then slides it in the back seat along with the presents. "So you really had a good time, right?" she asks as we buckle up.

  "Yes, mom, really," I assure her. No point in telling her about Vince. It would just upset her.

  "And you liked Austen and Logan?" she asks as we pull out of the parking lot.

  "Yes, though… I don't know. They weren't exactly what I was expecting."

  "What were you expecting?"

  "Honestly? That they wouldn't be that good-looking!" I reply with a laugh.

  "Oh, I guess they are lookers, huh? I only have eyes for Duke these days, I guess. He says that Austen is a great fighter, might even make it into some big fighting group or something."

  "That's great," I reply, thinking that Logan's moves didn't look too shabby either.

  "The reason I was asking was, well…" she drifts off, eyeing me nervously as we stop at a light.

  "What?" I ask her apprehensively. I've never seen this expression on her face before.

  "Duke and I… we're moving in together," she says in one rushed gulp of air.

  "Oh... Oh!" I exclaim, dumbfounded. My mom hasn't had a relationship in so long that I don't really know how to react to news like this. "Wait… so does that mean that I…?"

  "Yes, that's right. I mean, obviously it wouldn't make sense for us to keep the apartment just for you, so it would mean that you'd be moving, too. We'll sublet the apartment for the summer while we give the whole cohabitating thing a shot."

  "Uh-huh," I mumble, my breath starting to feel uneven. "And Duke's sons, where do they live?" I ask, praying for an answer I know I'm probably not going to get.

  "They live with him. It makes sense, while they're training. I mean, they train five or six hours a day, it's a real profession, so it's tough to make money at another job."

  "Right, yes, of course." So many thoughts and questions are running through my head that I'm having trouble keeping track of them all. How many bathrooms does this house have? Do the doors lock? Can I live in some sort of unattached shed in the backyard so that I don't have to live under the same roof as two of the hottest guys I've ever seen?

  "You sure you're OK with this, honey?" my mom asks worriedly.

  "Yes, mmhm, definitely," I reply brightly, my people-pleasing personality winning out over my concerns.

  "Oh, yay! I'm so excited. I think it's going to be such a fun time, I really do. And after a few months, if we feel like it's not working out, well then, that's that. Duke hasn't been in a relationship in a long time either, just like me, so we're both feeling our way blindly, if you know what I mean."

  "He hasn't dated much since his divorce?"

  "No. He was really devastated when Fiona left. Don't tell him I told you this, of course, but she left when it became clear he couldn't box anymore. That was when she showed her true colors. She only wanted the spotlight, to be with a champion, and she had no trouble spending their money. Last he heard, she was hooked up with some pro baseball player."

  "That's awful."

  "He had a hard time trusting anyone after that. Really threw himself into learning to be the best coach he could be. You know they used to call him "Big Rig" back when he boxed? You know, Duke Riggins, and because he's so big—"

  "Yeah, no, I get it. Log
an looks more like his mother, I guess. I mean, Duke and Austen have the blue eyes and blonder hair."

  "Oh, I guess I never really thought about it. But he must. Duke doesn't have any pictures of her around or anything. I don't think he wants to think about her."

  "Mm," I murmur, looking out the window. Well, I guess that date with Austen is probably off now. I can't really picture us leaving for it with our parents looking out the window after us, and then eating breakfast together the next morning. But that's really the least of it. I had an idea of my summer planned out in my head: get a part-time job, hang with Maya, relax after four years spent with my head stuck in textbooks. Of course, it might not be just the summer. What if Duke and my mom get married? I wonder how soon I'll be able to afford my own apartment.

  "I know it's a lot," my mom murmurs after an extended silence.

  "No, it's OK. I'm just trying to wrap my brain around the whole thing," I say with a feeble laugh.

  "Well, just remember: you and me, OK? We're a team. That always comes first."

  "I know, Mom. I know."

  Chapter Four

  Just five days later, my mom and I are driving over to join the Riggins household. The subletters my mom found are renting our apartment furnished, so we have just our suitcases of clothes and toiletries. We've lived in our apartment for five years, and it's strange to think of someone besides us sitting on the worn gray couch in the living room or eating off the small wooden table by the window in the kitchen.

  My mom's driven the route to Duke's many times. He never stayed over at our apartment, but my mom would stay at his house. Our new house. Apparently it's a lot bigger than our place. I used to wonder why they wouldn't just stay at our apartment sometimes, and then I realized that maybe they were worried about the noise. And just thinking about my mom having sex was enough to make me grateful for some nights to myself.

  "You have your own room, of course," my mom tells me. I can't help but smile at the happiness in her voice. For a while after my dad left, I thought I'd never hear her like this again.

  "Uh-huh," I murmur distractedly, wondering how far my bedroom will be from Logan's and Austen's. I'm not sure if I'm hoping for very far, or very, very close.

  "It's a big house, and has nice bones to it, but definitely needs a woman's touch."

  "Yeah?" I ask with a smile. My mom's definitely a girly-girl, so I can only imagine what she has in store for the place.

  "There's a lot of tan and black, as though that's a color scheme," my mom says rolling her eyes. "Not a painting to be found, except for some posters in the boys' rooms."

  "Consider me warned," I reply. We're driving through a nice, middle-class neighborhood, and my mom puts on her blinker and turns into the driveway of one of the biggest lots on the block. Before me sits a simple, two-story red brick house, with a brown slatted roof and red shutters. There's a large tree in the front yard, and a couple of scrubby bushes by the front door, though large flower beds are blooming on the lawns of the houses on either side.

  My mom stops and turns off the car in the driveway, then nods at the garage. "He's giving me a garage door opener today. I've already got the keys, and we're having a set made for you, too." We grab a couple of our bags from the back seat and head to the front door together. My mom unlocks the door and pushes it open. "Duke wanted to be here to welcome us, but they're all at the gym training. He says they have to keep a strict schedule if they want to be the best."

  I nod, grateful for a chance to get settled without the brothers around. I look around the spacious foyer. There's a staircase to my right leading to the second floor, and a dining room off one side and a living room on the other. My mom was right; there's definitely not much in the way of decorating, so it doesn't feel homey, but it is a nice house.

  As if she can read my mind, my mom wraps an arm around my shoulders. "It'll feel like home in no time. A few throw pillows and it'll be a whole new place. Come on, I'll show you your room first." I follow her up the carpeted steps to the second floor hallway. She points to one end and says, "That's the master bedroom." We turn the other direction and she stops at the nearest door. "This is your bedroom. Your bathroom is right here," she adds, pointing to the next door down, "And Logan's room is the one on the end."

  Oh boy. Unless Logan has his own bathroom in his room, which I doubt, it looks like I'll be sharing a bathroom with at least one of the brothers.

  "Which one is Austen's room?" I ask as casually as possible.

  "He lives in the basement. He's got his own separate entrance down there and everything," she responds, and I nod, considering. Man, I'd be jealous if I were Logan.

  "What's their age difference?"

  "Austen's twenty-two and Logan's twenty-one. Irish twins, I think they call it," she says with a smile, pushing my new bedroom door open. "They had just been using it as a sort of guest room slash storage room," she explains as I look around at the twin bed, dresser, and chair in the corner. "But you choose a paint color and a new duvet and we'll get it looking much better."

  "No, no, it's good," I reply with more conviction than I feel. The guest room for the guest. Seems fitting.

  "Want to go grab more stuff?" my mom asks.

  "Yep," I chirp with a forced smile. We get the rest of our bags in two more trips, and start unpacking in our respective rooms. My clothes just fit in the bureau and small closet, and I run my hand over the quilt on the bed. It smells a little musty, like no one's used it for a while. I grab my toiletries and head a few steps down the hall and into the bathroom.

  Just as I feared, there are men's products in the shower. Logan definitely uses this bathroom, too. Well, at least he keeps it clean. I open the medicine cabinet above the pedestal sink and put away my toothbrush and face wash, then put my shampoo and conditioner in the corner of the tub. I sniff the air and smile. What is it about the smell of a man's soap?

  Feeling a bit more settled in, and only slightly worried about Logan's and my bathroom schedules overlapping, I head down the hall to my mom and Duke's room. She's zipping up her suitcases and pushing them under the bed when I walk in.

  "All unpacked?" she asks. I nod. "Let's make a grocery store run. They don't have many of the brands we like in the house."

  An hour later, we're pulling back into the driveway with the car packed up again, this time with groceries. The front door opens as we step out and Duke gives us a wave.

  "Oh, good. They're home," my mom says with a giddy smile. I know she's looking forward to cooking her first family meal for everyone. I had to pressure her at the grocery store to make up her mind about what to get because she wanted to please everyone's palate. Duke turns inside, and a second later he and Austen come out to help us with the bags.

  "Hey Caitlyn," Austen greets me with a grin.

  "Hey," I reply shyly. If I thought he looked good in a t-shirt, there's something even sexier about him in a white ribbed tank and sweatpants. His dark blonde hair is damp with sweat, and his shoulder muscles still have droplets of sweat on them from the gym. I have to rip my gaze away to avoid staring.

  "Where's Logan?" I hear Duke say quietly to Austen.

  "In his room, I think," Austen replies.

  "Hmph," Duke snorts through his nose. The men stack the grocery bags three deep on each forearm, leaving my mom and me with just a couple lighter bags to carry in ourselves. We all head into the kitchen at the back of the house. It looks over the backyard and has a sliding door to the patio next to a round breakfast table. My mom begins unpacking the food and takes out the whole chicken she bought.

  "Roast chicken OK with everyone?" she asks Duke and Austen.

  "Yeah," Duke says, though there's a slight hesitation in his voice. I watch him peer inconspicuously into the rest of the bags and then glance at Austen as my mom puts the chicken in the fridge.

  "What?" I say, a little defensively.

  "Oh, it's nothing," Duke says, but Austen is clearly trying to stifle a laugh. A smile spreads across Duk
e's face as my mom turns to them in confusion.

  "Sorry, it's just…most people are surprised at first by how much we eat," Austen says.

  "I didn't get enough? There's vegetables, too."

  "The boys eat about five or six thousand calories per day, each." Duke tells my mom.

  My jaw drops. "How do you find the time?"

  "Once you get in the habit, it's not too bad," Austen tells me.

  "Don't worry, I'll just run to the store and get another couple chickens," Duke says, reaching for his keys. I feel a giggle begin in my throat and my mom narrows her eyes at me.

  "Sorry, sorry. It just took her so long to decide what to make," I apologize through my laughter, and my mom finally breaks a smile.

  "OK, fine, lesson learned," she says, rolling her eyes.

  "And don't feel like you have to cook for us, Joanne. We're used to preparing our own meals," Austen adds as his dad heads for the garage door next to the fridge. "We have to. Processed foods don't cut it with our training."

  "I just thought for the first night as a family it would be nice," my mom says. My eyes flick over to Austen to see if he has a reaction to our being referred to as "family", but his charm doesn't waver.

  "It'll be great," he assures her, then turns to me. "Did you get a tour of the house, Caitlyn?"

  "Most of it. I didn't want to intrude."

  "You live here now. It's not intruding. Come on," he says with a nod to the hallway leading to the foyer. My mom smiles at me encouragingly and I follow him out. "We moved here…I guess it was about ten years ago. My dad had a bigger place and sold it to start the gym." He stops at the banister. "You all moved in upstairs?" he asks.

  "Yeah, I poked around up there a bit."

  "Well, come on, I'll show you the basement," he says with a grin, pushing open the door underneath the stairs and flicking on the light. Huh. I know what's in the basement. I wonder if this tour offer was just a chance to get me into his bedroom. I follow his sweat-drenched back into the finished basement. It's a big space, basically his own private studio, with a TV and couch at one end and a king-sized bed at the other. There are several window wells giving the room light, and a door to the outside leading to another set of steps into the backyard across from me.