Breaking the Rules: The Breaking Series #1 Read online

  Breaking the Rules

  The Breaking Series #1

  Ember Leigh

  Breaking the Rules © 2018 by Ember Leigh

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published by Ember Leigh, 2018

  [email protected]

  Cover art: Covers by Combs

  Editing: G.G. Royale

  This is dedicated to all the women and men fighting to break the cycle.

  Contents

  About Breaking the Rules

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Author Note

  Afterword

  Next in the Breaking Series…

  Other Books By Ember Leigh

  A New York Minute

  The Last Resort

  Carlos & Casey

  When In Rome

  Turkish Delight

  Amara's move home is anything but fun. With her mom recovering from a cancer diagnosis, her only goal is to find a job in her field and support her family. But once she lays eyes on Travis Holt, she realizes her time in LA might be a lot more tolerable if she could use him to take her mind off things.

  For Travis, there's only ever been one rule: stay away from his best friend's sister. And it wasn't a problem until Amara moved back west all grown-up and sexier than sin. When she comes strutting around his gym every day, it's impossible to keep his eyes--and hands--off her.

  The one-off fling Amara imagined isn't possible with a God like Holt. And once Eddie finds out, they're suddenly cast into the turbulent waters of Something More, the unfamiliar terrain where Amara has to confront whether she can truly support someone whose career is the antithesis of everything she's worked for in the non-profit world.

  Chapter 1

  “Chest out.” Travis Holt’s hands hovered under the metal bar while his buddy Eddie heaved through the last standing squat of his series. “There you go. Hold it. Hold it.”

  The weights at the end of the bar quivered as Eddie drew labored breaths, his eyes locked and focused on something at the opposite end of the expansive weight room. Travis watched his friend, keeping a slow count in his head, eyeballing for any obvious signs that they’d upped the weight too much.

  “Almost there.”

  Eddie grunted, popping up to standing with a guttural yell. Travis latched the barbell in place before giving his friend a high five. “New personal weight record. Dude, you’re a beast.”

  Eddie laughed, wiping his sweaty face with the collar of his T-shirt. Curious gazes of some gym clients flitted their way. “I’m getting there, bro. Nowhere near Holt status still. Especially now that you’re getting back in the ring.”

  Travis let the compliment wash over him before he shrugged it off. “We’re not talking about Holt status. We’re talking about Valenzuela status.”

  Eddie waved him off. “Yeah, yeah.” A bad breakup about six months before had left Eddie struggling and overweight. Holt Body Fitness was the sacred space for all people looking to improve their self-esteem or get back into shape.

  Even Travis himself. For the past three weeks, he’d gone into beast mode. The results blossomed practically before his eyes, sharpening the ridges of his abs, sculpting the squareness of his shoulders into a hulking silhouette. His UFC injury had sidelined him for almost three years. But now he was showing up to prove he still had it. No ACL tear could keep him away from the title.

  “That’s it for today, right?” Eddie looked at him, hopeful. “I’m going for a run later too.”

  “Yeah, dude.” Travis entered his friend’s stats into the gym app they’d started using. “Text me your times. I’ll add the info after my training tonight.”

  “I might come back here for a run if Amara doesn’t need the car.” He shook his head, wiping down his neck with one of the gym-provided towels.

  “Amara?” Travis didn’t look up as he finished entering Eddie’s details into the app. Eddie’s little sister had moved out East years ago for school. She barely ever came home, and he had almost no memories with her. “She’s visiting?”

  “Or something, because Mama has been sick. She got in a couple of days ago, says she wants to find a job.” Eddie and Amara had always been extra attentive to their mother, even since high school. Growing up, the Valenzuelas had been tighter than a regular family.

  “Well, damn.” The two sauntered toward the glass doors leading to the main hallway of the gym. The attendant at the door nodded at Travis as they walked by. “That’s a big deal, right?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Mama keeps telling her to go back to DC. But Amara won’t have it because of Mama’s diagnosis.”

  “She should be able to find a job out here,” Travis said. LA was the City of Angels…and miracles, if one looked hard enough. Though he didn’t know what Amara did, she had to have a shot out here alongside anybody else. “Somewhere. And hell, if she doesn’t, she can work front desk here until she does.”

  Eddie laughed, offering his fist. “Thanks, bro. Not sure how she’d take that after her hotshot DC career, but I’ll tell her.”

  They bumped fists, and Eddie disappeared into the locker room. Travis checked into the employee lounge, then headed back to the main weight room. A couple of newbies in there had postures he wanted to correct; with the daily demands of scaling his business and preparing for his first UFC fight in almost three years, he didn’t have as much time to work with his gym-goers as he’d like. Training Eddie every other day had been a great way to force himself to spend time hitting the floor again.

  He breezed back into the weight room, the grunts and clanking of weights a familiar cadence that set him at ease. The gym itself was a giant temple for him, a spacious high-ceilinged retreat where he offered every type of workout and sweat potential.

  It was his dream space—the place he’d craved as he’d weathered adolescence and fought on the streets and then eventually on television through his early twenties. Bright and clamorous, airy and modern. Weight rooms, MMA octagon, an indoor track, and four dedicated rooms for private classes ranging from Pilates to Power Yoga.

  Holt Body Fitness had it all. Just like Travis had dreamed for himself.

  Travis helped two of the newer guys with their squats, waiting to make sure they got their form down. Once he saw that all else was fine, he selected two fifty-pound dumbbells, raising them over his head and lowering slowly as he watched his form in the wall-to-wall mirror. This upcoming fight was everything. The true chance to reestablish
himself as the star owner of Holt Body Fitness. His own silhouettes dotting the upper rim of the walls were a potent reminder to stay focused and fit.

  The unexpected injury had provided the time and space away from the rigorous training to be able to shift his focus toward a long-term goal: opening a gym. Because he couldn’t kick the shit out of people forever, there had to be an end date.

  But that time hadn’t arrived quite yet. Both running the gym and winning fights provided the type of attention he thrived on; he lapped it up and transmuted it into something new altogether, a type of high that only pride, money, and success could breed.

  Occasionally his gaze flitted over to new arrivals in the weight room; a lot of regulars streaming in, a few new faces, lots of beach babes getting into shape in the past few weeks as fall descended on LA. The eye candy—and the celebrities—were a constant at his gym. One of the many perks of his job, which was all about growing business, making a name for himself, and raking in that profit.

  The door swung open on the far end, and a new girl walked in. Tight leggings hugging a curvy body, a regular tank top over full breasts. Travis perked up, all his attention sliding to the newcomer while he finished his set. She wandered the room a bit, squinting around like she was looking for someone. Something about her seemed familiar, but that happened all the time here. In LA, everyone always looked like somebody else.

  But this newcomer needed a personal Holt welcome. He let the dumbbells down, exhaling loudly. The girl walked the perimeter of the gym, looking at the machines, graceful neck arcing as she peered up at the ceiling.

  Damn. He came up behind her. Dark-brown hair swept back into a loose braid that reached all the way down her back. Her ass bobbed round and perky in those leggings. His mind went straight to squeezing it. He couldn’t avoid it; he was an ass man through and through. Prowling the sexy clientele was a strict no-no for him, but two minutes in his gym and this girl had him wanting to bend his rules…maybe even break them. He cleared his throat as he neared.

  “Goddamn, there you are!” Eddie burst through the doors at the far end, looking his way. Travis creased a brow, unsure who he was yelling at.

  “I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes,” the sexy new girl said, throwing her hands up. “You said 2:30, asshole.”

  Travis’s thoughts screeched to a halt. Jesus Christ. He’d been stalking his prey: Eddie’s little sister. His jaw tightened as he fought to wipe the lascivious thoughts, like smudging fingerprints for evidence.

  Because Eddie would fucking murder him if he found out Travis had even entertained a thought about his sister like that.

  “I was busy.” Eddie pointed beyond her, toward Travis. “Blame him! He’s beefing me up; muscles take time.”

  Amara spun on her heels to follow her brother’s finger. She seemed startled when she locked gazes with Travis.

  “What’s up, Amara?” He nodded at her, smiling slyly. Maybe she didn’t recognize him anymore either. God knows he hadn’t recognized her from across the room.

  The corners of her pretty mouth turned up. Her chocolate, almond-shaped eyes made a slow trek up and down his body.

  “Long time no see, Trav.” She raised her hand, and they high-fived. “You sure look different.”

  “Do I?” Of course he did. The last time they had been in the same room happened at her going-away party; he’d attended simply because he’d been picking up Eddie on their way to the strip club. Back then, she’d been a feisty loudmouth, always yapping in the background whenever Travis called Eddie’s house—which already he could see hadn’t changed. But that body? He never remembered her looking like this.

  “You could be in GQ.” She nodded toward the oversize portraits lining the back wall. “Or maybe you already were.”

  “Nah, GQ is too classy for this guy,” Eddie cracked. “Tell her the truth. You were in Playgirl.”

  Travis sent his friend a stern look but didn’t say anything else. It was true. He’d been in the magazine last spring; part PR stunt, part unexpected opportunity on the heels of a well-connected gym-goer. His numbers had been consistently growing since.

  “Does that help or hurt your street cred?” Amara’s eyes twinkled as she looked up at him. “Or maybe that answer depends on whether there was full frontal nudity.”

  “None of that,” Travis said. “They did a feature on me because of the gym. Some of those pictures came from the shoot.”

  “It sounds like things have been going very well for you.”

  “Are you moving back to LA?”

  “For now, at least. We’ll see how it works out.” She sighed, gaze drifting across the room. He tried to focus on her face, but his eyes wandered over the caramel skin of her chest and shoulders. She looked soft but solid, and those breasts looked all real, a hard commodity to come by in the City of Angels.

  “Well, it was good to see you.” She was hotter than hell, but he could never tell her. Not unless he wanted Eddie to pull a knife on him. “Stop by sometime and work out with us. It’s always on the house for your family.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that.” She smiled at him, those eyes snagging him again like a fishing line. Fuck. How had he missed this about Amara? Growing up, she’d been the shapeless, bookish younger sister, studying in the background or doing whatever with her friends. He never imagined she’d be this fully blossomed woman who could knock him over with those sultry eyes of hers at first glance.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Eddie pushed at her, glaring across the room at somebody. “These guys are vultures, Trav. You know that?”

  Travis spun around to see. A group of guys lifting weights in the corner glanced suspiciously at them.

  “Oh, come on.” Amara sighed exasperatedly as her brother led her by the arm. “You never change, do you?”

  “Who else is gonna look out for you if I don’t?” Eddie nudged her toward the door. “They don’t need to be looking at you like that.”

  Travis couldn’t totally sympathize; he’d look at her like that all day if he could. Damn. He ripped his eyes away from her butt—harder than setting down a half-eaten ice-cream cone. Every fiber in his being begged to return to that view.

  Amara shook her head and looked back at Travis over her shoulder. “My father and I will see you later.”

  Eddie nodded at him as they pushed through the double doors, flashing him a sideways peace sign. Through the glass walls of the weight room, Travis watched them walk past the front desk and out into the foyer. When they were gone, he surveyed the handful of meatheads. Every single one avoided his gaze. They were part of the group that dosed on a regular basis; Travis had to break them up from infights on more than one occasion, and whenever he got complaints, they usually circled right back to one of these guys.

  Those beefheads pushed a lot of buttons; especially because they reminded him too much of his younger self. A hothead constantly in trouble with the cops, the whirlwind cycle of dosing and fighting, creating new wounds as soon as the old ones scabbed over.

  He didn’t tolerate harassment or fighting in his gym. That was the surest route to getting labeled as trashy or unsafe. And with his goals, he didn’t have time for unsavory brutes to drag him down.

  “You know the rules.” Travis looked at each of them as he headed for the door. “Keep your head down, or get the fuck out.”

  The door shut softly behind him, and he jogged to the staff room. Keeping tabs on all the potential shenanigans at the gym was a full-time job. That’s why he hired security and made his pass checkers at the doors keep a strict eye on the goings-on.

  “What’s up, boss?” Lex, a newer trainer and gym assistant, raised his hand for a high five when Travis came into the staff room. Travis had met Lex on the UFC trail, back when Lex dosed and was a helluva lot angrier. Now he was scrappy but clean and had recently come on board to Holt Body Fitness.

  “You guys are right on time.” Travis grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge in the co
rner and leaned against the center employee table where most lunches and dinners were consumed. “Before we start, anything interesting since the last meeting?”

  “Twenty new clients signed up today alone,” an employee piped up.

  “Two celebrity sightings today,” another employee said. “Lisa Kudrow and Jude Law.”

  “Not bad,” Travis said, rifling through a folder on the table. “Anything else?”

  “People talk constantly about the model on the wall,” said one of the second-shift pass checkers. “I think it’s one of the main reasons some women keep coming back.”

  Travis lifted the corner of his mouth. “Great. That’s client retention.”

  “I’d say roughly five girls asked this morning whether you were single,” a front-desk girl added. “That’s down from most days.”

  “You’re slackin’, boss,” Lex said.

  Travis cracked a grin, shutting the folder. “That’s all I need to hear, then. Let’s get down to business.”

  * * *

  “Hey, you okay or what?” Eddie nudged Amara while the car crept through the late-afternoon traffic. Amara turned to look at him but didn’t even see him. Her gaze wandered to the window and out beyond the lanes of traffic.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  She’d been practically braindead since running into Travis Holt at the gym. Talk about an unexpected welcome-home present. Not only did the guy have his own gym, but he was hot enough to melt steel. Money and good looks… He was certainly different than the Holt she’d known when she’d moved east eight years ago.