Page 51 of Give Me What You Will

He stared at him, at the hard, armored mask.

“Just admit you’re bi,” Sam said coldly. “Because straight men don’t suck cock.”

His heart dropped into his stomach like a stone.

“Or kiss their best friends,” Frankie added in a whispered rush, needing to penetrate the armor—this asshole version of the man he didn’t want.

Sammy stilled, hand on the door handle. He snapped his sunglasses back on and, without another word, pushed open the car door and got out.

Frankie shook his head, trying to tamp down his frustration, inhaling their scents, and his belly swooped. He quickly climbed out of the car, slamming the door and scrubbing a hand over his face, hoping like hell he didn’t look like he just had the best blow job of his life.

He watched Ryan descend from his black truck, beaming like a puppy at the sight of him. The anger softened at the sight of his friend and fighter, and Frankie hugged him.

Frankie ruffled Ryan’s short dark hair. “What are you doin’, man? Hand deliverin’ everyone their tickets?”

Ryan flushed, his youthful face pinched in a cringe. “I needed somethin’ to do. I couldn’t just sit at the gym or at my house. You know how it is.”

That he did.

Ryan glanced over as Sammy rounded the car toward him, and he grinned once more, launching himself onto him for a hug. “Sammy?!”

“Good to see you, man.”

“You too,” Ryan patted his shoulders, marveling at him. “Since when did you gain ten pounds of muscle, bro?”

“Since I moved to LA,” Sammy replied coolly.

Ryan whistled, “Looks good on you, man.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll have to tell Caz you’re comin’ tonight. You’re comin’, right? You have to!”

Frankie stiffened at the name. Caz ‘the Brawler’ Chapel was another fighter who was friends with Ryan and had been coming to their gym recently. Frankie had been training them both a bit, and Caz had been receptive, if not downright eager to learn. But Caz was a big shot and already had an elite team of trainers behind him. He was fighting in Vegas next month, working his way up to a title fight.

And… Caz Chapel was one of the only openly gay fighters in the UFC.

His fingers curled into his fist at his side.

Sammy nodded, “Yeah. I would love to. My flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow.”

He sucked in a breath as unexpected emotion swelled in his chest. Tomorrow? Of course, he thought. Sammy’s life wasn’t here anymore.

“Here.” Ryan dragged an extra ticket out of his back pocket and handed it to Sammy. “Hopefully you brought a suit. You’re in with my posse tonight, Sammy.”

The two men talked briefly, but Frankie heard none of it, too distracted at the thought of Sammy leaving. Ryan agreed to drive Sammy back to his hotel, and Frankie waved them off, trying his fuckin’ best to look excited for Ryan, despite the fist in his heart.

Tonight would be the last time he would see Sammy for God knows how long.

And for the first time, he was more angry than scared about it.

Chapter 9

Frankie was ignoring him again.

Deja-fuckin’-vu.

Sam finished his beer and nearly slammed it on the bar top, a headache locked into his temple and brewing like a thunderstorm. It didn’t help that the noise at the arena was loud, but his thoughts were louder. Sam had been to this arena a few times to watch Frankie fight over the years. Now he was here to watch someone else fight, and to watch Frankie ignore him.