Survive (Fight It Out Book 1)
Page 8
“Well, there may be a few women here who have their hearts broken, too.”
That took me by surprise. “What? Seriously?”
“Brooks and Tyler said Julian has been the hot catch on the market for quite some time.” She took another drink of my coffee. “Then you come waltzing into town only weeks ago, and he can’t get enough of you.”
I threw my T-shirt in the locker. “Should I feel bad?”
“Yes,” a woman said from behind us.
We both turned at the sound. It was Zoe, the current Strawweight champion.
“Zoe.” I stood up. “I didn’t know you trained at this gym?”
She held her hand out. “I’m fucking with you right now, but Charlie’s right, some women are pissed off.”
“I’m really not with him. I mean, yes, we’ve kissed and flirted.” I rolled my eyes. “And I’m rambling.”
Charlie tugged at my ponytail. “But you’re cute when you ramble.”
Zoe sat down next to Charlie.
“Are you both waiting for me to give you some play-by-play?”
“Pretty much,” Charlie teased.
I threw a tank top on and walked toward the door. “Chat later, ladies.”
“Oh, she is itching to get on that mat,” Charlie said, whistling.
“Do we need to buy extra sanitizer for the mat later?” Zoe barked out in between giggling.
“Fuck you,” I said, holding up my middle finger as I left.
13
“When did this become a move?” I asked, glancing down at Julian’s hands encircled around both my breasts.
“It’s new.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I read about it a few months ago.”
I’m sure I surprised him by leaning down and flipping him onto his back. “I think it’s called sexual harassment.” Leaning my body closer to his chest, I moved my hand in between his legs. My fingers grazed his hard length before wrapping around his thigh to pull his leg forward. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me with the triangle choke? Not inventing a new move that involves my boobs?”
Julian burst out laughing. “The boob hold. Think that could be the technical term?”
“There has to be a better name you can come up with?”
His eyes went wide. “I know. The torpedo crusher.”
The name took me by surprise, and I burst out laughing. My laugh was a little too loud for the gym. The problem is, when I start laughing, I can’t stop. I was at the part where I almost couldn’t breathe. Then all of a sudden, it happened; I snorted for the world to hear. Everyone in the gym started clapping. I fell onto my stomach and covered my face.
“Oh, sweet Lily and her laughing fits,” Charlie said, walking up beside me.
“So this is really a normal thing?” Julian asked.
“More normal than we both care to admit.”
Finally, the laugh died down, and I could breathe again. “Can we just practice at your place, please?” I turned my head toward Julian. “Then maybe I can keep the embarrassment meter to a lower level.”
Charlie patted my shoulder. “Sweetie, you are the life of the party today. We would be sad to see you leave.”
I rolled onto my back and pointed at Julian, “You’re taking me to your place.”
“Are you telling me or asking me?” Julian said, standing up.
“Telling.”
“You’re bossy.”
I stood up and stepped closer to him. “That’s not bossy, but I can give you bossy if you want?”
Charlie covered her ears and walked away yelling, “La la la.”
“Don’t wait up, Charlie Bear.”
“La la la,” she said even louder.
“So.” I brushed my hands through my ponytail and pushed away the few strands of hair around my face.
“So. What?”
I rolled my eyes and reached for my water bottle. Charlie and I had arrived in Las Vegas almost two months ago. It didn’t feel like I had been here that long yet. Which also meant two long months of flirting with Julian. Maybe I was letting my hormones get in the way. First phone sex and now begging to go to his house. My father would want to have a sit-down meeting with me and go over my decision-making process.
My back was facing Julian, so he had no way of reading my many expressions. I rubbed the towel down my face and wrapped it around my neck, turning toward the man on my thoughts.
“What are we doing?” I whispered.
I noticed him scowl and wondered how this conversation would go. There was a fifty-fifty chance it would go south fast. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you talking about? Training or us?”
“Us.”
“Well”—he paused like he had no clue what to say next—“are we planning to have sex today?”
“It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”
“But you think it may be a bad decision?”
“I have no clue,” I said, removing the towel and throwing it onto the mat. I sat down and rested the water bottle in between my legs. “I mean, let’s be honest, if the phone sex is any indication of what’s to come—”
“We are in for one hell of a ride,” he said, finishing my sentence. “But?”
“Can we make sure it’s the right choice first?”
He reached for my hand and started to fidget with my fingers. “And how will we know when it’s the right time?”
“Oh, we’ll know, trust me.” I stood up while still holding his hand. Bending down slightly, I kissed his knuckles and then made my way to the locker room.
“You are still evil, though.”
“That’s why God made hands, love,” I said over my shoulder. Walking away was the hardest choice to make.
Sometime making big girl decisions sucked.
By Wednesday morning my nerves were shot. The meeting was in an hour, and all I wanted to do was vomit. Julian had agreed to pick me up so we could carpool to the AFC business office. AFC also had a large building just outside of town by the city of Henderson that was a fully functional training facility.
I may or may not have had phone sex with Julian again last night. He insisted I needed to let go of some pent-up energy before the big day. The real problem was—I was starting to experience the woman’s version of blue balls. Me and my fucking rules. Somehow we were able to train together for the last four days without trying to accost one another. That had to be good odds considering we both eye fucked each other any chance we got.
A car horn blared outside. “Julian’s here. Wish me luck,” I yelled to Charlie.
She ran out of her room. “Wait,” she said, placing her hands on either side of my face. “You are damn amazing. You know that, right?” I shrugged my shoulders, unsure what to say. “Well, you are. Your dad would be so proud of you. Shit, he is proud of you.”
“Are you trying to make me cry?” I rested my hands on hers. “Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you.” Then she pushed me toward the door. “Now go kick ass and take names, Lils.”
As I opened the front door, I felt a draft of air hit my face. Yet, it was dry and hot. My porch was small, but I still looked to the right and then to the left. A part of me knew my father was there, which sounded crazy. “Wish me luck, Dad,” I whispered under my breath as I made my way down the steps.
Julian yelled out. “You ready?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, sitting down and buckling my seatbelt.
It took about twenty-five minutes to get to the AFC business office. When we arrived, the parking lot was packed. Julian managed to somehow snag a rock star parking spot. Before I stepped out of the car, I did my “You are amazing” mantra three times over in my head.
Julian opened my car door and squatted down. “Hey, you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Did anyone ever tell you what a bad liar you are?”
I patted his check and finally stepped out of the car. “All the time.”
/> Julian was the gentleman and opened each door for me. As we stepped into the front entrance, my eyes roamed every corner of the room. There were poster-size pictures of the late, great champions. The image that caught me off guard was hanging not far from the receptionist desk. It was a photo of my dad in the ring with one arm wrapped around a championship belt and the other arm high up in the air. What made me stop in my tracks was the black ribbon tied around the bottom of the image. Below the photo of my dad were candles, balloons, and flowers resting on the floor to pay tribute to the great, Johnny Adams.
“You okay?” Julian whispered beside me.
“Huh, oh yeah, I’m fine.” I turned to the receptionist.
Before I could get a word out, the young woman with vibrant skin, dark-rimmed glasses, and hair that took me back to the seventies stood up. “Lily, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” I felt unsure at the moment. All through my life if I had a moment where something felt off, it was usually a sure sign something was about to go down…and not in a good way.
“Lily,” a familiar voice said from behind me. I turned to find a tall woman looming over my five-foot-nine frame. “It’s good to finally meet you, Lily. I’m Angela,” she said, stretching out her hand. “And this must be your manager?” She turned to Julian, reaching out her hand.
“Julian Moore,” he said, accepting her greeting.
Something happened; I noticed Angela’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Julian Moore. For any normal person who encounters Julian, I could understand the element of excitement. For Angela, a woman who worked at AFC, she should be used to talking with champion fighters.
Tucking the negative thoughts away, I let her lead us toward her office. She turned back to me. “Do you live far from the office?”
“Oh no, it only took about twenty minutes to get here.”
She reached her door and motioned for us to enter. “Go ahead and have a seat. Can my assistant get you anything to drink?”
“I’m good,” I said, sitting down in a plush leather chair. “Thank you.” Really what I wanted was to get down to the nitty gritty of what she wanted to talk about. We really had no clue what she’d planned to discuss. It was only an assumption that she would ask me to be on a future fight ticket.
Angela sat down behind her desk and laced her fingers together. “I’m sure you are wondering why we asked to meet with you?” I nodded and tried to keep calm. “Well, we would love to discuss adding you to a future ticket. We usually plan a year in advance.” She paused for a moment. “What do you think?”
“I”—my mind was spinning—“I would love the opportunity.”
“Is Julian your full-time manager here in Las Vegas?”
I turned to him and back to Angela. “Yes. We have been training and working on some of my weak areas for the last several weeks.”
“Good. You need someone you can trust and rely on to help you with each fight.”
“Yes.”
It was weird. She seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. Before she said another word, she cleared her throat. “Lily, have you thought about fighting with your father’s last name instead?”
The words took me by surprise. You know those moments where you expect someone to say one thing, only to be blindsided by something completely different? Yeah, that was me.
Trying to keep calm, I said, “I’m sorry.”
“You are Lily Adams, right? The great Johnny Adams’ daughter.”
I stood up a little too fast, and my chair fell back. Before the leather cushion could hit the floor, Julian reached his hand out and steadied it. He cleared his throat. “Angela, can you please clarify? That’s a pretty big question to drop on us right at the beginning of the meeting.”
The woman was becoming a person I would love to hate. Who was she to suggest using my father’s name, and how the hell did she find out who my father was anyway?
Angela smiled, and it took everything in me to not punch the smirk right off her fucking face. I was still standing and now pacing the length of the room. “Well, we have to do background checks on all our fighters. We were able to go back to the fight you won when you were still technically in high school. It was your senior—”
“Stop.” I stopped in my tracks, turning my body to face Angela. “I know my history. I don’t need you to give me the rundown.”
Angela stood up and walked around her desk. “Lily, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
My eyes locked onto Julian. I think he knew at that moment I was done. When he stood up, he towered over the woman I was quickly starting to loathe. He held out his hand. “Angela, it was a pleasure to meet you. I think Lily and I will see ourselves out.”
“Ms. Adams,” Angela said.
I turned and stepped closer, so we were nose to nose. “Ms. Waters. You haven’t earned the right to call me anything else.” I pulled my driver’s license out of my wallet. “Here.” I held the small plastic card in front of her face. “Ms. Waters.”
“Lily, you have to know that your career would be amazing if you used your father’s name.”
As I strode to the door, I never turned to face Angela. “Yeah, who’s career would that be? Not my own. Something my father was against.”
She tried to say something, but Julian and I were out the door in a flash. I was done. If fighting in the AFC meant having my father’s name, then the championship belt was not meant for me. I was struggling to keep it together, and I’m sure Julian noticed. He wrapped his arm around my waist to steady me as we made our way to the car.
Right before I sat down, I looked up at the sky. What would Dad say to me right now? At that moment, I could hear a faint whisper beside my ear. “I’m so proud of you, Lils.”
I needed a new goal.
A new plan.
14
“Well, that went well,” Julian said sarcastically. “Charlie will have a cocktail waiting in there I’m sure.”
We were sitting in my driveway. My butt was glued to the seat, unable to move. I noticed Charlie peek around the curtain in the front window. A part of me wanted to get out of the car and run into her outstretched arms. The other part…
“Lily.” Julian reached for my hand. “Want to talk about it?”
That was the problem: I didn’t want to talk. What happened at the office should’ve made me pissed, and it did to an extent. Angela’s words also made me think about what I wanted going forward. I was tired of doing what was right or what others may expect. What did Lily Waters want?
Julian placed his hand on my thigh and immediately my body reacted. At that moment, I wanted him. “Take me to your place,” I said in a whisper with my head facing forward.
“Lily, are you sure.”
I turned my head and looked right into his green eyes. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. Take me to your place.”
He didn’t hesitate, just put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.
My phone was tucked deep in my purse, so it took me a moment to dig it out. After pulling up Charlie’s name, I sent her a text message to not wait up. She only replied with a heart emoji.
We stayed silent. I had my head turned and was watching as every house flashed by. I let my mind replay Angela’s words. Lily, you have to know that your career would be amazing if you used your father’s name. She didn’t get it, obviously. I wanted to create a Lily Waters empire just like my father did with Johnny Adams. I knew I had the skills to be a great fighter. The trouble was, how could I convince everyone else I was worth the money for admission?
The car slowed, and I turned my head to see Julian pull into a long winding driveway. I could only see the top of the roof at first, but then he continued until his four-story mansion came into focus.
I burst out laughing. “Really?”
“What?”
“You live in a mansion?”
“Well, yeah, I guess.”
Opening my door, I stepped out and let my eyes roam over the whole
property. There were three people tending to the yard. The front yard actually had some stunning landscaping. I noticed a rose bush against the side of the house and started walking toward it. “My mom loved roses.” I brushed my finger over one of the flowers and watched as a petal detached and fell to the ground. “I loved helping her tend to them every spring.”
“I have more around the back if you want to go look at them.”
I lifted my head to face him. “Yeah, I do.”
Julian reached for my hand and guided me to the backyard. “My mom loved flowers, too.”
His words caught me off guard. “Loved?”
“Yeah,” he said, stopping in front of a large garden with every color rose imaginable. “She died last year.”
I stepped closer but still not close enough. “I’m so sorry, Julian.”
“It’s weird to be that guy that has a well-kept yard, but my mom used to love coming here and sitting in front of it for hours. I almost tore it up but stopped myself right before pulling the first bush.”
I placed my palm on his cheek. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”
“Lily, do you want to talk about it?”
I felt the kindness in his words and knew I could trust him. Talking wasn’t on my mind at the moment, though. Glancing around, I made sure we were alone. Then I did a running leap up into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Or not,” he said, chuckling.
“I’m not really in the mood to talk.”
“Yeah, tell me what you have in mind?”
I bent my head and captured his lips. Rubbing my hands over his bald head, I moaned, demanding more before pulling away. “I want you inside me. No phone. Just you, me, and maybe your bed.”
He turned and headed up the sidewalk that lead to what I assumed was the back entrance to his house. “Maybe a bed,” he said. “What else do you have in mind?”
“A kitchen counter, shower, floor, you know, anything that can hold the both of us.”
“Are we planning to use all those surfaces today?”
“Maybe.”
“Should we talk about—”