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Tap Out: BTU Alumni Series Book #2

Page 1

by Ciz, Alley




  Alley Ciz

  Tap Out

  BTU Alumni Series Book #2

  Alley Ciz

  Also by Alley Ciz

  BTU Alumni Series

  Power Play

  Tap Out

  Sweet Victory- Coming November 11th

  BTU4- Coming February 2020

  BTU5- Coming June 2020

  U of J Series

  U of J 1- Coming September 2020

  U of J 2- Coming October 2020

  U of J 3- Coming November 2020

  What would you do if you came face-to-face with your celebrity crush?

  Rocky Steele is surrounded by professional athletes.

  It’s her job.

  As a physical therapist in a world renowned gym, she works with the best of the best, from hockey players to MMA fighters. Celebrity status does not impress her. Nor do big, strong men in peak physical condition.

  Nope.

  When it comes to her job, she’s one hundred percent professional.

  Enter Gage James.

  Her celebrity crush.

  And the newest fighter to train in her gym.

  Where it will be her job to put her hands on every inch of the six foot seven two hundred and sixty pounds of utter Alpha male perfection.

  She’s got this....Maybe.

  Gage ‘The Kraken’ James is the reigning MMA Heavyweight Champion.

  When he walks into The Steele Maker for the first time, it’s like he’s hit with a one-two punch to the chest in the form of a certain raven haired firecracker.

  His coach’s daughter.

  His physical therapist.

  His every waking thought.

  He’s in for the fight of his life.

  The stakes are higher... outside the octagon.

  Time to release The Kraken.

  GAME ON.

  TAP OUT is the second book in the BTU Alumni Series and can be read as a stand-alone. All your favorites return as a new cast of characters joins in on the fun. Prepare for major #squadgoals as you get your first peek inside The Coven. This book features a hella sexy UFC champ, feisty besties, the most awesome coffee house ever, and a heroine who can fight her own battles thank you very much. Time to touch gloves, HEA guaranteed.

  Tap Out (BTU Alumni, Book 2)

  Alley Ciz

  Copyright © 2019 by House of Crazy Publishing, LLC

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, medium and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Copyright © 2019 by House of Crazy Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-950884-02-5

  Print ISBN: 978-1-950884-03-2

  Cover Designer: Julia Cabrera at Jersey Girl Designs

  Editing: Jessica Snyder Edits

  Proofreading: Gem’s Precise Proofreads; Dawn Black

  Created with Vellum

  For Gemma, my OG fangirl.

  Gage James is yours—you licked him first.

  Contents

  Text Handles

  Playlist

  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

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  Thank you!

  Randomness For My Readers

  For A Good Time Call

  Sneak Peek at Sweet Victory

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Alley Ciz

  About the Author

  Text Handles

  The Coven

  Rocky: ALPHABET SOUP

  Jordan: MOTHER OF DRAGONS

  Skye: MAKES BOYS CRY

  Maddey: QUEEN OF SMUT

  Becky: YOU KNOW YOU WANNA

  Gemma: PROTEIN PRINCESS

  Beth: THE OG PITA

  The Boys

  Jase: THE BIG HAMMER

  IG Handles

  Gage: TheKrakenUFC

  Rocky: RockyToughAsSteele

  Playlist

  *

  Fugees: “Killing Me Softy With His Song”

  Alexandra Stan: “Mr. Saxobeat”

  Lonestar: “Amazed”

  *NSYNC: “I Want You Back”

  *NSYNC: “Bye Bye Bye”

  Jess Glynne: “One Touch”

  Inner Circle: “Sweat (A La La La La Long)”

  One Direction: “They Don’t Know About Us”

  Lukas Graham: “Love Someone”

  John Legend: “All of Me”

  Klaus Tadelt: “The Black Pearl”

  Chapter One

  Gage James thought the local sports bar, The Ring, showed major potential as he looked around for his cousin. It had the standard oak bar, beer taps and giant TVs, but what he really loved was the two-story ceiling. As a UFC Heavyweight Champion standing six-seven and tipping the scale at two-sixty, he was not a small guy and often felt claustrophobic in dark, tightly-packed bars.

  He eyed the two dozen beer taps that ran the length of the bar, longing for the bliss a good IPA provided as he felt the phantom twinge in his hip from a past injury. Unfortunately, he needed to abstain from alcohol for the evening—his meeting in the morning was too important.

  Running a hand over his short-cropped hair, he looked around for his cousin, Wyatt, and found him playing darts with a few guys in the next room.

  Without any siblings of their own, they were closer than typical cousins growing up. But after high school, Wyatt moved east with his high school sweetheart, and now wife Beth, while Gage stayed in California to train.

  “Can’t believe they let your ugly mug in this place,” he joked as he clapped his cousin on the back.

  “I’m ugly?” Wyatt retorted, smiling broadly. Their looks were as close as their relationship, with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes from the James genes. “Have you seen your face? Looks like someone has taken one too many shots in the octagon.”

  Gage laughed along with him, but they both knew how rare it was that he actually took a hit to the face. In fact, it was legendary throughout the UFC. He attributed some of it to his h
eight, but mostly the honor went to the fighting skills he spent countless hours honing.

  “Don’t be jealous, cuz. Not all of us could be so lucky to look as good as me.” He flexed his biceps, making the black ink on his arm dance.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say, cuz,” Wyatt countered and turned to introduce him to the other guys from the firehouse he was playing darts with.

  “Honor to meet you.”

  “Hell of a last fight you had.”

  Once their initial statements about his career were over, he was relieved when the guys reverted back to treating him like they would any other normal person. He wasn't a huge celebrity—outside of the fighting community, he could go most days without being recognized, unless he was actively promoting a fight. And he preferred to fly under the radar. But with social media making it easier for fans to engage with athletes, celebrity was a small price to pay to be able to support himself doing something he loved.

  At twenty-seven, he was already working on the back half of his career, having held on to his title for two hard years. Luckily none of his fights since had been as grueling as when he first took the belt.

  His hip twinged again at the thought of the five punishing rounds he'd endured to beat Curtis “The Cutter” Cutler. The ex-Heavyweight Champ was a beast of a man, as well as a terrible human being. The guy had earned his fighting moniker by intentionally drawing as much blood from his opponents as possible.

  Gage rolled his shoulders, hoping to rid himself of all thoughts of The Cutter. He didn’t need that kind of negativity in his life. The guy was already like a gnat buzzing around his head with the way he trolled him on social media, he didn’t deserve to have him actively thinking of him.

  Besides, he had his own shit to focus on if he wanted to avoid the dreaded “R” word for as many years as possible.

  A server came by their table to see if anyone needed a refill. She took orders for another round of beer for the firefighters with a smile and turned in his direction.

  Her gaze traveled up and down his body, blatantly checking him out, and he couldn’t repress a smile. As if scripted, her smile widened and her hip cocked out to the side. “What can I get you, hon?” clearly offering more than what was on the bar menu.

  She was a cute girl, college-aged probably, with dark blond hair and brown eyes. He returned her smile, making sure to keep his friendly instead of come-hither like hers. He wasn’t here to pick anyone up. No, tonight was for hanging out with his best friend and getting his head on straight for his big meeting tomorrow.

  “I’ll take a club soda, thanks.” He didn’t like to drink while training. There were no fights scheduled at the moment, but since he was meeting with potential new coaches and trainers in the morning, he didn’t want anything to slow down his instincts.

  “You got it.” She gave him another flirty smile and made her way to the bar to fill their orders.

  “I still can’t believe you’re moving here,” Wyatt said.

  “Well, I want to be around to see my godchild grow up, and Beth is getting ready to pop soon. So it seemed like a good idea to me.”

  From the moment he got the phone call telling him he was going to be godfather to the next generation of James children, he knew it was time to be closer to those who were most important to him, aside from his own parents.

  Tony Malone was one of the top MMA coaches on the west coast. He'd trained some of the best fighters throughout his career of forty-plus years. He had already been nearing retirement when he started training Gage in high school, then continued on for another dozen years when he saw the potential in him. But Tony was finally ready to retire.

  Gage was happy for his mentor—Tony deserved to take it easy after decades of building champions. And though moving across the country was his idea, changing gyms and forging a relationship with a new coach added to the long list of complications that could pop up for him. He didn't need someone new digging into his history.

  “What are you going to do about your training though? Don’t you MMA guys have a gym you usually work out of and a coach or something?” one of Wyatt’s coworkers asked.

  “When Wyatt and Beth found out they were expecting, it was right before my last fight. My coach had been hinting for a while now he felt it was getting time to retire, but I think he was hanging on for me. So when I told him about the baby, he started helping me find gyms and coaches in the area that I could meet to be closer to them and then he wouldn’t feel guilty about retiring. I'm starting with the Steele Maker tomorrow.”

  The past six months had been spent researching and interviewing potential candidates. Tony was even pickier than him when it came to selecting the new “home” of his prized fighter. There was a very short list to work from. Like the stars aligning, the top pick also happened to be near his cousin.

  The Steele Maker had made a name for itself with a handful of boxing and judo champions, then emerging as one of the top MMA gyms in the last decade. Gage was so impressed by the owner, Vic Steele, during their video chat, he decided to become one of his fighters without even seeing the place in person.

  “You must be meeting with Vic, right?”

  He nodded his head. “How’d you know?”

  “He's pretty well known around here. He was an Olympic champion at judo, and his brother, Mick, was a world champion boxer. Vic’s son is projected to be the next UFC Light Heavyweight Champ.”

  Gage was impressed a layman knew that—it spoke highly of the gym and its reputation. More proof his gut was right, even with his other reservations.

  “It’s good to know it’s such common knowledge outside the fighting world.” He paused to take a sip of his club soda. “From everything Tony has told me, Vic’s who he was looking at if I wanted someone to take over my training before I even mentioned moving here.”

  “Vic’s a good guy. A bunch of the guys from the firehouse work out at his gym so we’ve gotten to know him through the years.”

  Wyatt had been all too willing to provide additional intel on the Steele Maker.

  They played darts for the next hour, and he enjoyed getting to know some of the guys his cousin worked with. He was happy Wyatt had such solid people as his firehouse family. Tony had been like a second father, but he never really had that closeness with the other fighters who trained in his gym. If he was being honest with himself, it was something he was a little bit jealous of.

  He checked his watch and noticed it was getting close to ten. He was ready to call it a night when a commotion from the next room caught their attention.

  ROCKY LOOKED ACROSS the pool table and lined up her shot, ignoring Becky’s attempts at distraction. She smiled as she sunk the eight ball in the corner pocket.

  “Damn. I thought I had you that game,” Becky said on a laugh.

  Rocky stood and grabbed her beer off the pub table they'd commandeered, then took a long swallow before responding. “It was close that time. I only beat you by a ball.”

  Once a week, she and her friends would frequent The Ring, a hybrid restaurant/sports bar establishment about twenty minutes from where most of them lived. Most nights it was a low-key establishment, a place they could go to unwind or grab a bite to eat while watching live sports on the many televisions throughout the place.

  “Yeah, I know, but I was hoping to sweep you tonight,” Becky said, leaning against her pool stick. “It’s okay, I still have one more game to kick your ass again.”

  She laughed. Her bestie was as fiery as her red bob haircut. They grew up next door to each other, and there wasn’t a time in her life when she could remember not being friends with Becky Reese. Nowadays, Becky managed Rocky’s family’s gym, The Steele Maker, running it with military precision.

  Becky’s emerald eyes sparkled with mischief as she racked the balls for their last game. She was bent over to put away the racking triangle when a drunk asshole started heckling her.

  “Oh yeah, baby, look at that ass. Why don’t you give us a li
ttle shake, darling?” he called and laughed with his friends as if he was the cleverest man ever.

  “How about not,” Becky retorted as she moved to the other end of the pool table to join Rocky.

  “You know, it’s times like these I miss the rest of The Coven.”

  Rocky had to agree. The Coven, as the guys liked to call her and her best friends, was made up of six of the fiercest chicks around, and when they were together, no one messed with them. To be fair, their group consisted of a physical therapist to a group of professional MMA fighters, their nutritionist, and the woman who kept their gym in line, plus a best-selling author, and two women who ran a sports public relations empire. They were no shrinking violets.

  Plus, when they were out in a group, they were less likely to be approached by idiots like these.

  Since Rocky had won their last game, she made her way to the end of the table to break. The girls traded shots back and forth for a few minutes, doing their best to ignore the drunk idiots nearby. Unfortunately, a few plays later, she had to go to the other side of the table to be able to line up her next shot. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the group across the way. With the cocky leans and popped collars, they just screamed frat boys. She sighed as she trudged down the table.

 

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