Rush

By Amity Cross

Ryan Harper used to love a girl named Jade Forsyth, until she chose someone else.
Walking away from the only woman he’d ever loved and clawing his way up from the bottom, he’s on the cusp of making it in the world of professional MMA. He’s spent his life being put down because of his working class roots, but now he’s made something out of himself. Something he can be proud of.
When a chance meeting on a Melbourne street sends his unrequited love spiralling into his life once more, he’ll do anything to show her there’s more to her—and life—than how much money is in her bank account, the clothes she wears, and how much overtime she puts in at work. Life is for living...and loving.

But when the rush wears off, will Jade see his feelings are real? Or is history destined to repeat itself?

From Amity Cross comes Rush, a sizzling instalment in the Internationally best selling MMA fighter romance series, The Beat and The Pulse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole R. Taylor
• Release date: May 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370935574

Amity Cross

Find out more about Amity and her books by visiting:https://www.amitycrosswrites.com

Book preview

2

Ryan

I t’s been almost two years!

I thumped my fist against the punching bag, frustrated when my knuckles didn’t even sting. Not even a little bit.

It’ll happen, mate, Ash said. There just isn’t anyone good enough to fight you.

I glared at him one more time before staring out over Pulse Fitness. I’d spent years training in a shithole before coming here, and now that professional MMA was in my sights…there was no fucker to fight. What a kick in the guts.

What was I supposed to do now? Wait? I’d waited too long and wasted more time than I liked being idle. I was getting bored. That had always been my problem. Complete and utter boredom. It was frustrating as fuck.

It’ll happen, Ash said again, clapping his hand on my shoulder.

Ash Fuller was my coach and hadn’t let me down yet. He knew how the system worked and played within the rules. Granted, he was kicked out of pro, but he was offered another shot, which he turned down to open Pulse Fitness where he now trained my mate Cole and me. Fighting was what we were good at, and Ash…he knew how to take us there. I just didn’t expect it to take so long.

Glancing back at him, I grunted. He stood almost a head taller than me, his build much sturdier than mine. He was tipping the scales into heavyweight, mostly because of the muscle he managed to pack on, and compared to my middleweight, he could knock my block off in two seconds flat. He’d done it before when I’d stepped out of line, and like typical blokes, we sorted out our beef in the octagon.

Take a break, he said, nodding toward the front door of the gym. Let me work on the AUFC. They know you’re ready to debut, but you know those fuckers. They’re waiting for the money shot.

Yeah, I muttered, cracking my neck. Not having anything else to say that wouldn’t get me into trouble, I walked across the mats and into the male change rooms.

Ducking into the shower, I stripped and stood under the cold water until I’d washed away the filth of that morning’s training. It was almost cruel in a way. After so much work, I could finally see the next big milestone, but it wasn’t coming. Everything hinged on one little thing. Ash said it would happen, but when?

I was sick and tired of waiting.

Getting dressed, I shoved my keys, wallet, and phone into my jeans’ pocket and stashed the rest of my gear into my locker. Slamming it closed and spinning the combination lock, I strode out of Pulse and into the cool autumn afternoon.

There were tons of guys looking to crack into the AUFC, so why wasn’t there anyone for me to fight? The competition wasn’t that stiff, was it?

Lost in my thoughts, I found myself on Victoria Street, the main thoroughfare through Abbotsford. This area was full of Asian grocery stores, restaurants, and other shops. There was a chemist, newsagent, and some junk stores, but mostly, the entire stretch was full of the scent of spice and honey from cooking. It was the little Asia of Melbourne, and it was an effort not to gorge myself on carbs every time I walked down here.

Turning, I stumbled as a familiar head of ginger curls came into view. It couldn’t be…could it? Of all the places for her to finally appear, it had to be a block away from Pulse.

Jade Forsyth.

She was staring at the buckets of flowers outside the florist like she was frozen in time. Her slender hand was wrapped around the handle of a large suitcase, her other clutching the overflowing handbag that was slung over her left shoulder.

She was exactly how I remembered her, except she was older. Less girl and more woman. Narrowing my eyes, I also remembered when she’d chosen someone else over me. Granted, she didn’t know she was choosing, but by the time I grew enough balls to do something, it was too late.

Crossing the street, I stood a few paces away, not sure if I should say something, but she looked shell-shocked. Something had happened.

Jade? I asked, looking her over. Up close, she was even more stunning. She was all woman and then some.

Slowly, her head turned, and my breath caught. It was definitely her. Her skin was pale, the freckles I used to tease her over still dusted across her nose and cheeks, and her pink lips were glossy with lipstick. Green eyes, made iridescent by the brilliant ginger of her hair, stared back at me.

Ryan?

Her voice sounded the same, too.

Yeah. Are you okay? I asked, my gaze flicking to the suitcase, then back to her.

I just caught my fiancé screwing another woman…in my bed, she declared. She just let it rip like a single day hadn’t passed since we’d last seen each other.

Hunter? I asked, her declaration opening up an old wound. Fiancé?

She nodded.

Ah, shit, I cursed. I’m sorry.

The taxi didn’t come, she went on. So I walked, but I took a wrong turn, and now I don’t know what to do.

From looking at her, I gathered she was lost because she was upset. If her head were screwed on right, she would’ve flagged down any of the half dozen taxis that had passed us while we’d been standing here. Jade was always overconfident, overorganized, and extremely loud. I wondered if she still swore like a drunken sailor.

I’ll flag a cab for you if you want, I said. Where are you going?

She shrugged. A hotel, I guess.

A hotel? Don’t you have any friends that would let you crash? I racked my brain to think of the girls she used to hang with at school. Posh bitches who always turned their noses up at me. Marigold, Margarine, Mag… Whatever her name was.

Margaret, she replied, her lips quirking. Good, a smile.

You still friends with her and those other girls?

She nodded. I don’t want… They can’t know what’s happened.

I frowned. Why not? They’re your friends, right? Friends are supposed to do shit like this.

I can’t.

I scowled. Some friends she had if she couldn’t turn to them when things got rough.

I’m sorry, Jade said, looking at me with her Bambi eyes. This wasn’t how I imaged things going.

Nobody expects to be cheated on, I said with a shrug. No sweat.

No, that’s not what I meant… She sighed, lowering her gaze. "I meant, this wasn’t how I imagined this going."

My breath caught. Jade had thought about me? I wasn’t sure what to make of that considering she’d chosen the douchewad Hunter Ballinger—rich, private schooled, posh lawyer-ish, fucker with a wandering cock—over me, Ryan Harper, public school delinquent who was only good with his fists. At least I’d been able to turn brawling into a valid career.

You’re different, she added.

I tilted my head to the side. Different, how?

Taller, musclier… You have a tattoo.

I smiled, looking her over. You’re different, too.

Yeah?

You’ve got boobs now. They were always so tiny.

Her mouth fell open, and I started laughing.

Asshole. She was attempting to be outraged, but I could see the hint of a smile underneath it all.

What hotel are you going to? I asked. I’ll get you a cab, and I’ll ride with you if you like.

You don’t have to do that, she said. You’re probably busy…

I had to go back to training, but I couldn’t just pile her into the back of a cab and never see her again. Running into her today of all days had to mean something.

I’ll just text my coach and tell him something came up. I’ll just have to make up for the lost time tomorrow.

Coach? she asked.

I train down there at Pulse Fitness, I explained, pointing down the side street. I’m about to break into the AUFC.

What’s that?

I chuckled and shook my head. She’d never really been into sports. I remembered she’d gone to all of her snotty boyfriend’s softball games, but that was her limit.

It’s the Australian Ultimate Fighting Championship, I said. Mixed Martial Arts.

Wait… Isn’t it supposed to be brutal?

It can be, I said with a shrug.

Turning, I glanced down the street and spied a yellow taxi approaching at a snail’s pace. The road was clogged, but this stretch of Victoria Street always was.

There’s a taxi coming, I said. Want it?

Sure.

Stepping between the parked cars, I held my hand up, signaling to the driver. When the traffic moved forward, he double-parked to let us hop in. The boot popped open, and I grasped the handle of Jade’s suitcase, hauling it inside as she got into the back of the taxi.

Where to? the driver asked as I opened the other passenger side door.

Mercure on Little Bourke, Jade replied as I slid in beside her.

The car pulled out into the traffic, and I glanced at her. She’d sunk against the window, her gaze fixed on something outside.

The Mercure, huh? I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

It has the best rating out of all the hotels in a two-block radius to where I work, she replied. It’s three stars, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I closed my mouth and sat awkwardly, glancing at the meter as it clicked over dollar amounts while we sat at the traffic lights at Hoddle Street.

So you actually earn money in MMA? Jade asked, turning to look at me.

Yeah, a bit. I’ve had a few minor fights, nothing big, though. And I’ve been lucky enough to get a grant to help with my training. Once I break out into the league, there’s the chance to make really good money. Not just from winning but endorsements and corporate sponsorships.

Wow, it’s a whole thing, she murmured. You turned inciting brawls at house parties into a career.

Memories of crashing rich kids’ parties when I was seventeen started to flood back. A group of us would go, try to feel up as many private school girls as we could, then pick fights with their snotty nosed boyfriends. All out brawls would start somewhere around then, and the neighbors would call the cops to break it up. I’d legged it over many a backyard fence in my time.

I snorted. It’s not quite like that. Pro fighting is more about discipline and the code than anything. It’s not brawling.

If you say so.

What about you? I asked, changing the subject as the traffic started moving again. What did you end up becoming?

A workaholic, she replied wryly.

Still intense, huh?

She shook her head, her curls bobbing around her face. Dedicated, more like it. I love what I do… There was a pause, and I sensed a but coming. I wonder if that’s why he…

Hunter didn’t cheat on you because you were working too much, I said sharply. He cheated because he’s a douche. If he had a problem, he should’ve been a man and talked to you about it. Plain and simple.

Jade stared at me, looking as if she was about to burst into tears, but nothing came. That was strength, right there. To be so hurt and still able to keep it together.

I work in publishing, she said after a moment. I’m head of marketing.

A highflier, huh?

Yeah. She turned away, her gaze locked on the city outside her window.

When the taxi finally arrived at the hotel, she slipped the driver a twenty and change while I retrieved her bag from the boot. Wheeling it inside, I waited with her as she organized a room for the week.

You good? I asked as the girl behind the desk began typing on her computer.

Jade nodded. Yeah. I’ll be okay.

I glanced at the exit. So I’ll see you, then? I asked the question, more out of politeness than anything. The odds of seeing her again were slim to nonexistent. Maybe that was for the best.

Sure. There was a moment of hesitation, and old feelings began to rush to the surface.

Bad timing, dude, I thought to myself. The story of your pathetic life.

Stepping around her, I began to walk away and shoved my hands into my pockets. Wrapping my hand around my phone, I realized I’d forgotten to text Ash.

Ryan?

I turned at the sound of Jade’s voice and stared at her across the hotel foyer.

Why did we ever stop talking? she asked, her green eyes sparkling.

I shrugged. I don’t know.

A sad smile pulled at her lips, and she turned as the girl behind the desk handed her a room key. Backing away, I ducked out of the doors and wandered down Swanston Street, leaving Jade and the Mercure behind.

I knew the answer to her question, but telling her the truth wouldn’t change anything. She was hurting after catching her dick of a fiancé ramming his cock into another woman in her bed. Her life had been turned completely upside down, and hashing out the past would do more harm than good.

So I did the same thing I did back then.

I walked away.

3

Jade

In the space of a day, my entire life had changed.

I currently sat in the middle of the bed in my hotel room, surrounded by a mess of sheets, a room service tray in front of me, and Pretty Woman playing on the television hanging on the wall.

I rolled my eyes as Julia Roberts’s character pawed Richard Gere’s poor lonely, sexy businessman character’s crotch while he stared at her like she was a lump of clay.

Oh, just let her suck your cock, Richard Gere! I shouted at the television. Let her suck it. You obviously need it.

Sinking back into the pillows, I wiped my damp eyes with the back of my hand. No one was coming to sweep me off my feet and climb a fire escape with a bunch of red roses to proclaim their love. Especially not a rich fucker like Richard Gere.

Real life wasn’t a fairy tale. No one handed you shit. You had to work for every scrap you could unless you came preloaded with a trust fund, and wasn’t that just the luck of the lottery. No one could control which vagina they erupted out of after nine months of swimming in gunk, could they?

No, I had to fight my way to the top, and I still came off second best. A man didn’t want a strong woman who could provide for herself. Well, at least, guys like Hunter didn’t. While he’d been handed everything, I’d had to apply for every scholarship I could find and work at fast-food joints four nights a week after school. I had to wait tables and serve drunken fuckers through three years of Uni, scan groceries at the local supermarket for the Sunday penalty rates…everything but sit on my ass and wait for the proverbial silver spoon to come along and spank me.

At the thought of my now ex-fiancé, a new wave of ugly crying overcame me, and I sobbed into the linen napkin that had come with my room service. After all that sacrifice, I’d had everything I’d ever wanted, but it all turned out to be a sham. Worthless piece of shit…

Picking up my phone, I stared at the blank screen. I used to think zero notifications was a good thing. It meant my inbox was free of work, and I could have a few precious moments to myself. Now it just amplified my broken heart. I had a whole weekend ahead of me jam-packed with ugly crying and French fries. At the thought, I wished for a work crisis to dive into so I didn’t have to keep envisioning Hunter fucking another woman.

Asshole.

Then my phone buzzed, and a text message appeared, making my heart leap into my throat. Not because the sound had startled me but more because of who’d sent it.

Margaret: Brunch at the Langham tomorrow. Don’t be late. x

It was if she knew my life had burst into flames sent from hell and was waiting to rub it in. Ugh. Instead of Pretty Woman, I should’ve watched Mean Girls in preparation.

Tossing my phone aside, I put the room service tray outside my door, glad no one was in the hall to witness my disheveled state. Putting up the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle, I locked myself in, flopped into bed, and buried under the covers.

There were so many things wrong with this picture I wasn’t sure where to start. I was wallowing in a fancy hotel room on a Friday night‬. I was dreading facing my uppity friends. I was afraid of their judgment when they found out my engagement was off. ‬‬‬‬‬

Fiddling with the ring on my finger, I tried to pick out the moment where I’d gone wrong. I was fixated on the ‘how