Home > Xavier (Cocky Cage Fighter Legacy, Book 1)

Xavier (Cocky Cage Fighter Legacy, Book 1)
Author: Lane Hart

Chapter One

 

 

Xavier Malone

 

 

Maya Angelou said, “The ache for home lives in all of us,” and, boy, was she fucking right.

I didn’t realize just how much I’ve missed my hometown of Silver Spring, Maryland until I stepped off the plane. The tension I’ve been carrying inside of me for years suddenly lessened, like someone finally removed the rubber bands that had been wrapped so tightly around all my limbs that they were cutting off the circulation.

I press the button on the car’s door panel to roll down the automatic windows on the shiny, black Camaro I’ve rented for the week, letting in some fresh air since it’s a beautiful end of summer day.

Ah, I’m a free man once again, and it feels pretty fucking good.

Keeping my left hand holding the steering wheel on the highway, I reach up and undo the sky-blue silk tie that’s been choking me for hours. I should’ve changed out of my three-piece suit before I went to the airport, but I was in a hurry to catch the earlier flight I decided to take today instead of tomorrow. All I had time to do was swing by the gym to grab my luggage.

And how fucked up is it that I pay thousands a month for a penthouse apartment I refuse to step foot in?

For the past six months, I’d rather sleep on a bunk bed surrounded by the scent of sweaty socks than in my king bed with my wife I currently loathe. Once upon a time I loved her. Maybe I still do, but I just can’t bear to look at her fucking face yet.

As I take the exit for my parents’ neighborhood, the home I grew up in, the sun dances off of my gold wedding band that, for some unknown reason, I only take off when I’m working out. It’s also an annoying reminder of the conversation I’ll have to have with my mom and dad when I show up at their place without my wife.

And fuck, I dread that whole ordeal so much that I decide to put it off a little longer, making the turn for Cassidy’s road instead. My childhood friend kindly invited me to stay with her this week before our high school reunion next Saturday. I quickly took her up on it, because I haven’t seen her in what feels like forever, mostly because my wife Camilla wasn’t her biggest fan.

No one ever understood why Cass and I were ever friends, much less the sleepover, tell each other everything, best friends when we were kids. And honestly, I never really did either. Her family moved into our neighborhood the summer before we both turned nine. From the second we met and found out we were going to be in the same class at school that fall, we just were inseparable. It didn’t matter that I was a rough and dirty, athletic boy and she was the polar opposite, a scrawny, little nerd, because Cass was also a tomboy. We bonded over roasting marshmallows in backyard campfires and fishing in the neighborhood pond during the summers. None of our many other differences mattered to us. We were soulmates, and not in the romantic sense because I thought of her like a sister, just much less annoying than my actual little sister Macy.

When I roll up to twelve-oh-one Windsor Drive, there’s not even room for me to park in the driveway thanks to eight or so other vehicles piled in. Pulling over at the curb, I reach for my phone from inside my suit jacket to double check the address on her text message.

Yep, this is definitely her place.

The white, two-story Colonial with navy blue shutters and matching front door perfectly fits Cass the more I look at it. So, either she has a lot of visitors over or she has a ton of roommates. There’s honestly no telling with Cass. She’s always been sort of a wild child, risktaker, but she also goes after what she wants.

When Cassidy was eighteen, she told her parents she wasn’t going to college like the majority of our class. Instead, she took out all the money in her college fund and used it to start her own outdoor sporting goods store. Everyone thought she was fucking insane at the time, but I thought she was brave. I envied her for knowing exactly what she wanted to do with her life, while I was clueless at eighteen. Hell, I’m still clueless at twenty-eight.

Turning off the car, I climb out and grab my luggage from the trunk before walking through the freshly mowed grass to get to the front door. As I reach my finger out to press the button to ring the doorbell, I hear masculine hooting and hollering coming from inside, making me wonder if Cass texted me the wrong address after all. She was never the type of girl to talk to guys other than me.

But then I hear a feminine voice yelling something about not spilling beer on her new sofa. The door is finally yanked open, and then the sweet face of the girl I’ve been friends with for twenty years is filling it.

At least I think it’s the same girl.

Cassidy’s blonde hair is pulled up in the usual messy ponytail; but after talking to her only on video chats for the last few years, I had forgotten how tall and skinny she was. And today, she’s wearing a tight, so, so tight, faded Baltimore Ravens tee that I’m certain was made for toddlers and not grown women, with a pair of snug blue jeans.

There are two major difference from the woman before me and the girl I grew up with. One, her eyes look greener than usual because she’s wearing contacts, not her glasses, which were her staple in school and at night on the phone; and two, she has a really nice rack, like the kind of tits straight men dream of motorboating…

And I immediately despise myself even more than usual for having such a thought about my childhood friend.

“Xavier!” Cassidy exclaims before launching herself and her new boobs at me, pressing them against my chest and nearly knocking me backwards.

“Ah, hi. I caught an earlier flight. Hope that’s okay,” I say as I drop the luggage in my hand to hug her back, inhaling the familiar strawberry scent of her hair.

“Yay! It’s so good to see you in person. All of you! You’re not just a talking head!” she exclaims when she pulls away so that her new tits are no longer smashed against my body.

“Um, yeah, you too,” I remark, trying to keep my eyes from lowering.

Since when did Cass get so…pretty and grown up? As a kid, she was sort of gawky and clumsy with the longest, skinniest legs, reminding me of a cute baby giraffe or deer, which is why I called her Bambi. Now, though…did she look like this at my wedding? If so, that would explain why Camilla practically hissed whenever I even breathed Cass’s name these last few years. At the time, I must not have noticed her looks with my head so far up Camilla’s ass. But now? God, I don’t know how I missed it.

“Come on in,” she says, stepping back to give me room to walk inside.

“I love your place,” I tell her just as a deep voice within yells, “Chug it, you Washington pussy!”

“Sounds like you have quite a crowd,” I remark after I pick up my luggage and then hesitate on the doorstep. “I didn’t mean to drop in early and interrupt if you’re busy. I can stay with my parents tonight.” No. Hell no. “Or at a hotel and come back tomorrow.”

“Xavier Jackson Malone,” Cass says, using my full name and bracing a hand on one of her hips.

“Yeah?”

“Get your ass in here!” she shouts. “I haven’t seen you in, like, three years! You’re staying!”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

Grabbing a handful of my lapel, she pulls me forward. “Yes! You’re not interrupting. It’s just my league.”

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