Tap Out: BTU Alumni Series Book #2

by Ciz, Alley

  Aside from Nick and Damon carrying on the Sammycorn thing, the fighters were nowhere near as bad. Vince’s only tradition was having her wrap and tape his hands.

  Now, as she waited for Gage’s answer, she was a little disappointed she hadn’t thought to ask him herself.

  “Umm.” She could see him mentally scrolling through his pre-fight traditions. “I always wear the same pair of beat up sneakers. But other than that, I guess not.”

  Sammy and Jamie shared a look she couldn’t read. “So you wouldn’t be opposed to say…changing your entrance music?”

  Confusion crossed Gage’s face. “What? You don’t like that I use a Birds of Prey song?” That would certainly be awkward at this late stage and coming from the band's front man.

  “Fu—” Jamie’s eyes tracked over to Sean and Carlee as he cut off the curse. “I mean, hell no. That shit’s awesome.” Guess a rock star could only change their vocabulary so much. “But now you’re friends with Spins.”

  Before Sammy became the sought-after music producer he was today, he'd started off his career as a popular DJ, occasionally still headlining clubs when the mood struck. Rocky started to smile, assuming that he had remixed Gage’s entrance music.

  Sammy pulled out his phone instead of explaining, hitting a button so the Birds of Prey song Gage had always walked out to started playing. Remixed into the song was the theme song to The Pirates of the Caribbean. The way the two pieces came together, swelling into a climax of notes, added a whole new dimension to the original rock hit.

  “Shit, that’s pretty fucking awesome,” Gage marveled as he listened to the song played a second time.

  “Yeah, my boy has skills,” Jamie said proudly, causing Sammy to blush.

  “I figured you needed something to go along with your moniker, and pirates and Krakens have always gone together.”

  The sudden shouts of Sean and Carlee cut off any further conversation.

  “Oh, yeah. Drop the gloves, drop the gloves.” Sean looked downright gleeful as he watched to see if Jase would follow instructions.

  “Do the sweater thing. Do the sweater thing,” Carlee added, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  Though they had the game on, not everyone had been paying attention. But they sure were now, spurred on by a pair of bloodthirsty second-graders.

  Jase circled around with one of the defenders from San Jose, the guy more goon than enforcer. Almost simultaneously, the two tossed their gloves, sending them bouncing haphazardly across the ice. The San Jose goon swung out wide, Jase easily ducking under the arm and coming up with a jab of his own. With one hand gripping the front of the guy’s jersey, Jase got in a quick series of punches, and to Carlee’s utter delight, pulled the jersey partway over the guy’s head before they were separated by the referees and sent to the sin bin.

  “You guys are a bit bloodthirsty, aren’t ya?” Gage said on a laugh.

  “You have no idea.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  UFC weigh-ins were filmed and televised. There wasn’t a lot of pomp and circumstance around the procedure, but there were promotional requirements for the fighters, such as the traditional stare-down between the two contenders after they made weight.

  Gage waited in the backstage area with his team until his name was called. He would be the last fighter to walk to the stage since they went in weight class order and he was the reigning champion.

  Weigh-ins could be a stressful part of the process for most fighters, but it never really was for him. He settled back in his seat, arm around Rocky, letting Vince and Deck make stupid snaps on their Snapchat accounts.

  “What’s going on, Las Vegas?”

  The event emcee's voice boomed through the sound system at the MGM Grand.

  “Welcome to the weigh-ins for UFC 235.”

  The announcements continued for the undercard then main card fights as fighters took their turns on stage.

  Unlike his past fights, where he would spend the time blocking out the world around him with a Harry Potter book playing through a pair of noise-canceling headphones, he now had his teammates to pass the time with.

  “And now for the main event, James versus Cutler. The two battle it out for the championship belt for the Heavyweight title.”

  There was a pause while the crowd cheered.

  “We have Curtis ‘The Cutter’ Cutler versus our current champion Gage ‘The Kraken’ James. First up to the scale, please welcome Curtis Cutler.”

  For the first time all night, he looked toward the projection screen at the front of the backstage area to watch what was happening.

  With a scowl on his face, The Cutter made his way on stage for his weigh-in. Once at the scale, he slipped out of his slides, dropped his sweatpants and tossed his shirt to the ground, getting onto the scale clad only in a pair of dark gray boxer briefs.

  “Two sixty-five,” the official called out.

  “Two sixty-five, the official weight for our contender Curtis ‘The Cutter’ Cutler. Now his opponent, the UFC’s Heavyweight Champion of the World, Gage ‘The Kraken’ James.”

  Gage stepped forward, followed closely by his small entourage of Vic, Vince, Gemma and Rocky. He repeated the same process of shedding his layers before taking the scale in his black boxer briefs. He had specifically worn black since the champion always wore black during a fight. He had no plans of relinquishing his title anytime soon, and he was making sure it was known from the start. Head games were part of the fight.

  “Two sixty-three.” The official in front of him read the display, confirming he made weight.

  “Two sixty-three for your champ,” the emcee announced.

  He sent a wink to Rocky and Gemma, standing off to the side of the stage. Not once during his training camp had he come in over the weight limit and he took pride in officially staying under the line by two pounds. Those girls had worried too much. He was hoping to put on five or ten pounds once he rehydrated.

  He made his way to shake the UFC’s president’s hand. He also had to get close enough to Cutler for the photographers to get the obligatory stare-down photo. Not something he was particularly looking forward to. No, all he wanted to do was take a page out of Jase’s playbook and metaphorically drop the gloves.

  He had perfected his badass, fierce fight face years ago. With it in place, he pushed all thoughts of Rocky telling him it was so hot her panties dented the floor because they dropped so hard, and stood inches from the guy he couldn’t wait to pound into the ground the following day.

  Thanks to his considerable height, he was able to look down on the dickwad and Cutler was forced to look up.

  A smarmy smirk formed across Cutler’s face as he leaned in to whisper, “Don’t worry. After I take my title back, I’ll throw your girl a bone and show her what it’s like to fuck a real man.”

  His vision went black—not white, not red—black with anger. Without thought, he charged forward so sharply that the force of bumping him with his chest caused Cutler to stumble back a few steps. Deep within, he found the wherewithal to not throw the punch that burned for release in his arms and shoulders.

  The president's arms separated them even as he felt Vince instantly at his back, while Cutler’s people did the same for him.

  After a few charged seconds, the emcee's voice broke through the melee. “The title is on the line. Gage James and Curtis Cutler.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Fight day.

  Grudge match.

  A clash of titans.

  A battle for the ages.

  A chance for redemption.

  An alpha defending his mate.

  The rematch the world had been waiting for.

  All these and more had been tossed around while the day bloomed with a bright sunrise the way only the desert could. Thanks to the room’s heavy blackout shades, Rocky and Gage were able to sleep in until their bodies naturally rose.

  She woke before Gage, content to lay wrapped around his hot-as-sin bod
y even with her bladder screaming at her to pee. Though he would nap on and off throughout the day, she didn’t want to be the cause of him missing out on a second of sleep that morning.

  After the drama the night before, she was taking care of him like it was her job. Technically, it was her job as his physical therapist and trainer, but the way she’d been acting fell more along the lines of girlfriend than professional. She was shocked her dad hadn't commented on it.

  The only surefire way she knew to calm Gage down was sex, and that had been expressly forbidden before the fight by his coach. As she was in the room when her father dropped that edict, it had been awkward as hell.

  Thank god for Jase.

  He had seen the weigh-in clip trending while waiting for his flight out of San Jose. Once he did, he changed his plans and came directly to the hotel as opposed to the hockey game originally on his agenda.

  She never thought she’d see the day where her bestie of an ex-boyfriend would be the one her boyfriend sought out for comfort. But that was exactly what happened. The two had formed some sort of weird alpha male bond over all the shit going on with The Cutter, and the enforcer served as the MMA fighter’s emotional support animal.

  Gage stirred beneath her and she felt his lips brush across the top of her head. “Morning, baby.” His sleep-roughened voice did delicious things to her body and she cursed the fact it would still be hours before she could do anything about it.

  “Morning, Champ.” She placed a kiss over the eye of the octopus tattooed on his chest.

  His impressive morning wood was pressing against the inner thigh stretched across his body. It really was a shame it was going to go to waste.

  Stupid rules.

  At least she'd been able to veto the suggestion she sleep in a different room. That was so not happening.

  “Come on, time to get up.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand to do a time check. “I’m surprised Gem hasn’t busted in here already with your first round of food, so let's not give her the chance.”

  Once she'd taken care of business and pulled on a pair of leggings and a baggy Steele Maker t-shirt, they made their way out of the room and found most of their friends already spread out around the main floor of the suite. Sure enough, as soon as they stepped off the final stair, Gem was handing Gage a protein shake with strict instructions to drink up.

  On her way back from the kitchen, fresh mug of coffee in hand, Skye stormed into the room and tossed a phone at Jordan with a sound of frustration. “You need to talk to your BB3 before I murder him.” The murder came out with a slight growl.

  She and Jordan shared a look. Well, I guess things aren’t better there yet.

  As Jordan lifted the phone, Rocky was able to see Tucker on the screen, the FaceTime call already in process.

  “Yo, Blondie.” Tuck’s voice called out clearly. “Can you tell your bestie to chill with the Blair Witch photography. Damn, she about made me seasick.”

  “Uggggh.” Skye ran both hands through her hair in frustration, collapsing on the couch next to her. “Seriously, Jake, you might need to start accepting applications for a new best friend, because you’re this close”—she held her thumb and forefinger a breath apart—“to your current one no longer being an option.”

  “It’s fine. I have Ry and Jase too. I’m covered.” Jake and Jase shared a knuckle bump.

  Rocky put her arm around her friend in a show of support. The dynamic between Skye and Tucker had always been strained at best, but lately, things had been worse than ever. The two of them were the only past pairing in their group that hadn’t settled into an easy friendship after they stopped hooking up. She wondered if it was because they had never been an official couple and stayed in the FWB area.

  “Tuck," Jordan started, "I already have two kids of my own. I don’t need another one right now, thank you very much. Why do you insist on being a shit starter so early in the morning?”

  “Dude,” Vince said, bending over the couch so his face was next to Jordan’s and he could see their friend on the screen. “Don’t mess with The Coven when you aren’t here to suffer the consequences.”

  “I second that,” Jake said, pulling his wife so she was settled between his legs, leaning back against his chest. “It’s like a violation of the bro code.”

  Tucker let out a hard snort. “You and your damn How I Met Your Mother references. But whatever. Now speaking of kids, show me my girls.”

  Jordan’s face visibly softened as she shifted around so Tucker could see the twins, both girls giggling and trying to take the phone when they saw their uncle on the screen.

  “You guys are a little bit crazy, you know that?” Gage said, taking the remaining spot next to Rocky, protein shake in hand.

  “Not crazy. Codependent,” Becky clarified. Rocky shot her finger guns. Nailed it.

  “Aren’t you glad you decided to date me?” She placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw.

  “Every. Single. Day.”

  She didn’t know what made her want to jump his bones more, the way his bright blue eyes locked onto her as he spoke or the words themselves. What she did know, was that after his fight, it was on like Donkey Kong.

  GAGE HAD FOUGHT in over two dozen fights throughout his career with the UFC. This was his fourth title bout—once to win it, plus two defenses—but never had he had a day of a fight be quite like this one.

  First, he woke up with a girl in his bed and that had never happened before. His focus had always been on the fight first, his dick second. An anomaly amongst the male sex, he knew, he didn’t need to be told. Then again, he was considered one of the best pound-for-pound fighters in the UFC so he must have been doing something right.

  It was also strange, but good, to be surrounded by people who supported him in ways that had nothing to do with being his coach or trainer.

  Sure, Gemma was there to make sure he was taking in the calories and hydration he needed to be in optimal shape for his late-night fight. Vic and Mick were also in the suite and there was talk of the fight, but he spent more of his not-napping time bullshitting with his new friends than anything else.

  Wyatt liked to give him shit for his wife’s recent membership into The Coven, but he had a feeling it would have happened regardless of him dating Rocky because he spent so much time with the rest of the guys in their world. As he sat there with his goddaughter snuggled on his chest, it was clear both his family members blended into the group perfectly.

  He startled slightly as Jake tapped him on the shoulder. “Come on.” Jake tilted his head back. “Pass the baby off, we got work to do.”

  He looked at the goalie, confused.

  “You need to stay loose today and we have the perfect solution. The guys all use it when they have a fight. You’re just lucky enough to have me as your partner.” Jake clapped him on the shoulder one more time and stood to lead the way. “Beck, take the baby so I can school this guy in some pong and still have enough time to take advantage of my wife in our hotel bathroom before the fight.”

  “Bro.” Ryan conveyed both his disgust and a reprimand with the single word. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want to hear about you doing my sister?”

  “Sorry to break it to you, man, but that baby you’re playing with”—Jake circled his finger around, indicating one of his daughters—“isn’t a product of immaculate conception.”

  “TMI, bro. T. M. I.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a prude, Ry,” Maddey said, snickering with Jordan somewhere else in the room.

  Gage had never been more grateful to not have a sister as he was in that moment. Beth was the closest thing to it, but he had only ever known her as Wyatt’s girlfriend so he never had the gross out factor come into play if the subject of sex ever came up.

  After making sure his godchild was fine with Becky—soft snores could already be heard—he let Jake lead him to where he was unfolding a ping-pong table.

  He reflexively caught the paddle Jake t
ossed his way once the table was set up. A few of the others migrated over to watch, including Rocky and Jordan. Vince moved one of the dining room chairs to the opposite side of the table, sitting backward in it and declaring himself a line judge for the game.

  “Sweet,” Vince said, crossing his arms over the top of his chair. “It’ll be nice to see someone else lose to Brick for a change.”

  “Brick?” he asked.

  “Yeah, Mr. Brick Wall over here.” Vince fluttered a hand in Jake’s direction, causing Gage to laugh at the apt description of the Blizzards goalie.

  “I take it that’s his text handle?” He made a mental note to ask Rocky about his own text handle next time they were alone.

  “Yup, in everyone’s phone except JD’s,” Skye said with a sly smile.

  “Yeah, in her phone he’s—”

  “Please, for the love of god, don’t finish that sentence.” Jase broke in quickly, cutting off the rest of what Becky was trying to say.

  “Seconded,” Ryan chimed in.

  “Third.”

  “And fourth,” Nick and Damon tacked on.

  “You guys are such hypocrites. Do you have any idea how much I had to hear about your sexcapades with the bunnies during college? You should be happy for your boy for getting laid on the reg.” Jordan gestured with her hand like she was done with them all.

  He bounced a ping-pong ball on the table as he listened to the ludicrous conversation volleyed around the room. “You guys are like goldfish the way you change topics.”

  “Eh. You get used to the squirrel mentality after a while,” Jamie called out from where he was battling it out in a game of Mario Kart with Maddey, Sean and Carlee.

  The singer was one of the few outside people who merged into the group, so he probably was speaking from personal experience.

  “Come on, serve.” Jake gave him a nod and the game got underway. He knew the goalie was a righty, so he was surprised to see him playing with his left hand.