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Seb easily read between the lines of Keaton’s vague question.
For the past six months, his entire family had spent every conversation on their tiptoes trying to walk around his emotional eggshells. They didn’t want to come right out and ask what the progress was with his recovery because they didn’t want to upset him.
Well, everyone except his mom. She just came out and asked.
“It’s the same, pretty much.”
His last tests had shown some activity in nerves that had previously been damaged, but that had happened a few times before only for other areas to then go dead. His right hand would come back to life and then his left would go totally numb. This entire rehab process felt like one step forward twenty steps back.
“You’ll get there,” Keaton made a promise that there was no way he could keep.
His cousin had no clue if Seb would ever pick up a tattoo gun again. No one did.
“Hey man, what can I get you?” Liam asked as he made his way down to the bar.
“Whatever pale ale you have on tap is fine.”
“Comin’ right up.”
“So what about you? How are things?” Seb asked.
“Good. It’s nice to have family in town.” Keaton had been the first Savage man to move to the small town. When he’d retired from fighting six years ago, he’d decided to set up shop in Whisper Lake. He’d opened his gym. His classes were popular with both kids and adults.
Keaton had loved MMA as much as Seb loved tattooing. It was his cousin’s entire world. His life. He’d competed professionally for over twenty years before he announced he was done. Seb could see that his cousin loved teaching, but sometimes he wondered if it fulfilled him like competing had.
“Do you ever miss it? Getting in the cage?” Seb asked as Liam delivered his pint.
His cousin looked down at his hands and fisted them. Seb could see the same longing he felt to pick up a tattoo gun Keaton had to tape up. He realized then that he’d never come out and ask his cousin why he’d stepped away from the sport he loved. He’d just assumed it was because after two decades, his body was tired, or maybe he’d achieved everything he could in the sport.
“Why did you hang it up?”
Keaton’s jaw ticked and his expression hardened. “At the time, I thought I had to…to prove that I could walk away and settle down.”
“Prove to who? Camilla?”
Keaton nodded.
Keaton and Camilla had dated on and off from the time they were teenagers. Seb had always liked her. She was funny, smart, gorgeous, and she seemed to genuinely love Keaton. He thought they were good together. But he did see that Keaton’s travel and commitment to training had put a strain on their relationship. Camilla never made it a secret that she wanted to get married, have kids, a white picket fence, and a dog. She even talked like that when they were teenagers. Seb had witnessed more than one tense discussion, some with tears, at family holidays when she’d be upset that he was never around because of his training and travel for fights.
Seb always thought that they’d work it out. That they’d end up together. But from what he’d seen on Instagram, she was about to walk down the aisle with another man.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Yeah.” Keaton took a swig of his beer and he could see that his cousin was in pain. “It was too little too late.”
Fuck.Seb felt like an asshole. He’d been so wrapped up in his own shit, he hadn’t even checked in with his family. Not really checked in.
“So are you thinking about competing again?”
“Yeah. Maybe. The gym is doing well. I’m even thinking about expanding. Maybe start training some up-and-coming fighters. I don’t know. I like my life, but I do feel like something is missing.”
Seb knew the feeling. And he knew that if tattooing wasn’t going to be an option for him, it might be a feeling he had for the rest of his life.
His cousin leaned back and rubbed his hand over his face. When he lowered his arms, something caught his attention across the bar. “Oh, shit. Speaking of expanding, there’s Kennedy. I wanted to ask her about the vacant space next door to the gym.”
Keaton stood from the stool and started walking toward the front of the restaurant. Seb turned and saw Kennedy by the hostess stand. Her head was cast down as she ran her hands down the sides of an olive-green dress that hugged her body, showcasing her dangerous curves.
Shit. She was here on a date. That was definitely a date dress.
