Santori Reborn (The Santori Trilogy Book 2)

by Maris Black

  Room service. My stomach growled.

  I ordered breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and strong coffee with a shot of espresso. It tasted like nothing, but I forced myself to eat half of it. The coffee was the only thing I finished because I needed the caffeine kick in the ass to get me going.

  At noon, Anthony Rodriguez opened his hotel door to me wearing nothing but a pair of jogging shorts and a smile. I tried to keep my eyes trained on his handsome face, but that dark expanse of exposed skin was like a magnet to my gaze. Shit. Couldn’t he have put some damn clothes on?

  It didn’t help that his physique was similar to Kage’s. Thick shoulders, rock hard pecs, and perfect abdominals that could have been chiseled from stone. I had to admit the guy was a work of art, but I did wish he’d throw a shirt over that body.

  He invited me in, and I took a seat on the small sofa pushed against one wall. It wasn’t a fancy room, not like the one I’d reserved on Kage’s credit card, and it was small. Too small for his presence as he moved around the space to tidy up the clothes he’d discarded the night before.

  “Sorry. I fell back to sleep after I texted you, and I haven’t been up long. This place is a wreck.”

  “It’s not that bad,” I said. “Mine doesn’t look any better.”

  He grinned sheepishly and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Yeah, but you didn’t invite somebody to come into yours. I should have straightened this up before you got here. You don’t think I’m unprofessional, do you?”

  I laughed. “You’re a fighter, not a housekeeper. Cleanliness is not a prerequisite for a UFC contract.”

  “True.” He came to stand directly in front of me, and I had to look up to see his face. “Where do you want me?”

  “Ummm…” I looked around the room. There was a bed, the sofa I was sitting on, and a tiny table and wood-framed chair in the corner. The chair looked more like a torture device than seating, and I didn’t think I wanted Anthony sitting on the bed while we talked. That just left the sofa, which was really more like a love seat. “You can just sit with me. There’s not much room, but I think we can manage.”

  He dropped down beside me with a smile, and it struck me that he had a really gorgeous smile. It was probably his best feature, and that was saying a lot considering all of the other things he had going for him: the muscles, the perfect bone structure, the exotic dark coloring, and the warm brown eyes. I tried to imagine him and Kage in the Octagon together and shivered. It would be MMA softcore porn.

  “So are we on or off the record?” he asked. “Are you gonna be putting everything I say in your article, or can we just talk for a minute?”

  Talk? Off the record? What did we have to talk about?

  “I won’t publish anything you don’t want to share, if that’s what you mean. This isn’t a police interrogation. It’s me trying to get news to MMA fans while helping you out, too. Like marketing for yourself. I’m not some hard-nosed reporter trying to dig up gossip on you.”

  He relaxed visibly and nodded. “Okay, I know you’re the Machine’s boyfriend, but I wanted to ask for some advice. Is that weird?”

  “Depends on what kind of advice you want.”

  “Well, I’ve seen what you did for Kage. I read up on you and did a little digging on the internet. And Twitter.” He nudged my arm playfully. “I know how you feel about Twitter.”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah, Twitter has caused me more problems than I care to think about.” I thought of the night my Twitter exploration had led to Kage choking me out and then having a PTSD attack. But then I realized that if I hadn’t been cruising Twitter that night, Kage might never have come to terms with what had happened to Evan, so maybe it hadn’t been so bad after all.

  “I like Twitter,” Anthony said. “I can interact with fans, and I don’t have to say a whole lot.”

  “So you’re not a social butterfly, I take it?”

  “No. I don’t do well with that kind of thing. Talking to people like we’re best friends or something. I’d just rather say my piece and get out of there.”

  “Do you get a lot of haters? I don’t mean to imply that you’re not popular, I’m just curious. I’ve had my share of haters, and they come out in droves to attack Kage.”

  Anthony shrugged. “I guess everybody has haters. They’re everywhere. I don’t let it get to me if some stranger doesn’t like me. They don’t know me.”

  “That’s a healthy attitude to have.”

  “My mother is a model, and my father is a successful international businessman. I don’t say that to brag. I just grew up with a little more attention on me, so I learned to ignore it at an early age.”

  “That’s good that you don’t let it get to you.”

  “What I wanted to talk you about is what you did for Kage. He was doing that underground fighting thing, but as far as the general public was concerned, he was nobody. Then he met you, and things changed for him. You were his publicist, right?”

  I laughed. “We use that term loosely. I was a college student, and he brought me out to Vegas to be his intern. I’m afraid I didn’t do a great job. I made him a website, which in retrospect was pretty crappy. But I took pictures of him and posted a little on social media. I honestly didn’t know anything about social media then beyond cat memes and drunken bar selfies. I was so clueless.”

  “So he hired you because he wanted to sleep with you, huh?”

  “What?” I couldn’t hide my shock at his bold question.

  “Sorry. I say what I’m thinking way too much. All I meant was that he hired you even though you had no experience, and then you two ended up together. I just connected the dots.”

  There wasn’t much I could say to that, because Rodriguez had hit the nail on the head. But it made me uncomfortable, so I changed the subject.

  “So what was it you wanted to ask me?”

  “Well, I don’t get a whole lot of media coverage. I told you I have a hard time interacting beyond an occasional tweet. I want to know what I could do to get what Kage has got. I know he doesn’t do many interviews, and he’s been pretty absent for the last few months, but people are still talking about him. His old pics still get tons of hits. He has more fans and more haters than I do.”

  “Well, for starters, I don’t get why you gave up the opportunity for that exclusive interview with MMA Daily. They have a huge reach. That could have been a big break for you.”

  “Maybe. But I wanted to talk to you. I told you that.”

  “I’m not following your logic. Besides the sensationalism of being interviewed by Michael Kage’s boyfriend, which may not even be relevant anymore, I don’t see where I offer any advantage.”

  “May not even be relevant anymore?”

  Oh my God, why had I said that? And of course, he picked right up on it. “I just mean you never know what the future holds. Hanging your hopes on that one small detail is a risk.” There. Did that sound even remotely legit? I couldn’t tell.

  “So the blush has left the rose?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s something my mother likes to say. It means the new has worn off of your relationship and things aren’t working out.”

  “Oh. Well, maybe. But we have no reason to talk about my personal life. I’m the interviewer, not the interviewee.”

  “I thought we were still off the record. Just two guys getting to know each other.”

  I shifted in my seat, suddenly very uncomfortable where the conversation was headed. “We’d better be off the record, because if you lured me to your room just to get something you can use against me for publicity, I’m going to be very pissed.”

  “That would be pretty shitty of me,” he said, pulling his knee up onto the sofa and facing me head on.

  “You haven’t denied it, though.”

  He ran a hand absently down his ripped torso. It wasn’t a calculated move because he didn’t even seem to notice he’d done it. I thought he probably
did that a lot when he was deep in thought.

  “You’re way off base.” His fingers lingered in the hair on his chest and scrubbed lightly as he stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. “What if I told you something personal about me? Would you chill the fuck out then?”

  I gaped at him. “Do you ever censor what you say?”

  “No. I told you I say what I’m thinking.”

  “Yeah, not the most endearing quality to have.”

  He shrugged. “It’s who I am. I have a hard time putting up a front like everybody else. It takes too much effort, and I’m not good at it.”

  “So you’re obnoxious because you’re lazy?”

  “Obnoxious?” He laughed, genuinely surprised by my assessment of him. “I don’t think I’m obnoxious. Maybe you just don’t feel comfortable with people who say what they mean.”

  Damn. He might have had a point. Was that really how I was?

  “I’ll bet you lie a hundred times a day.” There was no accusation in his tone or his expression. “You sit behind your computer and type out what you think people want to hear, just like everybody else. I’m just saying I have a hard time doing that—trying to figure out who people want me to be.”

  I raised my eyebrows, surprised at how honest he was being with me. I really couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just sat there staring at him.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “If I tell you something personal about me will you calm down and quit thinking I’m some sort of gossip spy?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out, feeling instantly more at ease. “Okay, fine. Tell me something.”

  “Sometimes I wear the same pair of socks two days in a row.” At my unimpressed smirk, he added, “I’m also gay.”

  I blinked like a bewildered owl, because of all the things I could have imagined him confessing, being gay was not one of them.

  “Did you ask me for this interview so that I could out you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think you should?”

  “Jesus, Anthony. It’s your life. I can’t make that decision for you.”

  “Well, I trust your opinion. You helped Kage, so help me.”

  “But you’re his upcoming opponent.”

  “And you said you were professional, so that shouldn’t matter.”

  Shit. He had me there.

  “All right, tell me what your end goal is. What is it that Anthony Rodriguez wants?”

  “Fame. Money. The truth is, my parents disowned me last year when they found out I’m gay. They were worried it might tarnish their reputations. I’m used to a certain lifestyle, and now I’m cut out. Fuck, I don’t even know how I’m going to pay my rent next month. I need some big money fights. This one with Kage is pretty big, but even though he’s ranked lower than me, he’s the draw. I need some attention, and I need some fucking money.”

  “Okay. Well, that’s certainly honest. We can work with that.” Truthfully, I was getting excited thinking about making a difference in a fighter’s life again. How awesome would it be to help skyrocket this guy’s career and know that I was the one who did it? There was a sense of power attached to it that was almost irresistible to me. I remembered back to the feeling I got when I was posting pictures of Kage and helping to build a following for him. That rush I got every time I checked the stats and saw how popular he was getting.

  “I’ll make it worth your while,” he said. “When I start making money again, I’ll pay you to be my publicist like Kage did.”

  “No. Sorry, but I don’t really want to be anyone’s publicist. I’m just not qualified for the job. But maybe I could do a consultation or two with you. We could bounce ideas off of each other and see what sticks. I may not have the skills to be a publicist, but I do have a journalism degree and the knowledge I gained from working with Kage. I also pay attention to the business and do a lot of research for my blog, so yeah. I can probably help you out.”

  “That would be awesome. In the meantime, though, we need to figure out what to do on this interview. I was thinking I could talk about my fighting philosophy. Tell about my parents disowning me. I know they don’t want me saying anything about them, but I figure it serves them right for turning their backs on me. It would be a good sob story, too. Don’t people like sob stories?”

  “For a guy who thinks it’s too much energy to front, you sure do have a lot of ideas about manipulating your public image.”

  “Hey, I’m trying to learn. What ideas do you have for me? Maybe you could do some sexy pictures of me like you did Kage. It seemed to work for him.”

  “Well, I don’t know—”

  “I’m as sexy as him, right? I’ve got a hot body.”

  At the mention of his hot body, my gaze dropped to his abs, and again I found myself wishing he would put on some damn clothes. “Yes, you are very good-looking.”

  He laughed. “That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement. Do you think I’ve got what it takes, or not? Be honest with me.”

  “Yes, okay? You’re hot. Are you happy now?”

  He did that maddening thing with his hand again, rubbing up and down his torso as he grinned triumphantly at me. “Thought so.”

  “You’re also cocky. Probably to a fault.”

  He shrugged, unconcerned with that particular observation. When he’d said he didn’t care what people thought about him, I had mistakenly thought he meant it like most everyone else did—the ones who said they didn’t care but then set about trying to fix themselves to suit popular opinion. That didn’t seem to be the case with Anthony.

  He was also single-minded and bullish, constantly steering the conversation in the direction he wanted to take it. “So we can get some pics, right? For the interview?”

  I held up my camera. “I didn’t bring this thing for nothing, although I had imagined taking a very different kind of photo than what you’re talking about. And I had imagined you wearing more clothing.”

  “Fighters are always shirtless in their pics. They wear their shorts and nothing else. I’m wearing shorts.”

  “I know, but—” I almost admitted that he seemed more naked than most in a pair of shorts, but that sounded all kinds of wrong. He had me off balance and had kept me that way since I walked through the door. Actually, since the night before when he’d first struck up a conversation.

  I didn’t have enough experience to deal with interviewing someone with such a strong personality. It was too hard to maintain my professional dignity when it seemed like I was constantly either defending myself or trying not to stare at his abs. I could refuse to continue the interview, but he did have a good point about the possibility of my blog post going viral. Who wouldn’t be interested in Michael Kage’s boyfriend interviewing his upcoming opponent? It would definitely get tongues wagging.

  There was also the possibility that it would make Kage jealous, and I would have been lying if I’d said that didn’t hold a lot of appeal for me. Kage didn’t seem to have much interest in continuing our relationship. He had other things to worry about now, and I didn’t want to play the part of the poor jilted lover. I needed to retain some of the power in our screwed up dynamic, and at the moment I couldn’t think of a better way to do it than showing him that I was moving on and thriving. And spending time with hot guys.

  So I interviewed Anthony Rodriguez. We worked up our angles for the story together. The title of the piece would be Anthony Rodriguez: The Naked Truth. It was fitting, considering his habit of saying whatever came to his mind—and the fact that we were going to feature some pretty racy pictures of him wearing very little.

  We decided he would officially come out as gay in the interview. Once I’d gotten over my initial trepidation, I realized that any blogger with sense would have been salivating over the chance to get an exclusive on a fighter coming out as gay. It was big news, and I was going to be the one to break it. I tried to play it off to Anthony as no big deal, but inside I was doing a happy dance and fantasizing
about all of the attention we were going to get when the story broke.

  I wasn’t sure what kind of effect his coming out would have on his career, but it hadn’t seemed to hurt Kage much. There would always be haters, but overall the press had been positive. Even with Kage not being as much in the public eye since he took over the Alcazar, he was still big news online, and I had no doubt this fight would stir up interest for him again in a big way. Now I was working behind the scenes with Rodriguez to make sure he got his fair share of that attention.

  I reasoned that skyrocketing the public interest for Rodriguez would also benefit Kage. Imagine all of the people dying to see a fight between two gorgeous, well-known fighters who had both come out as gay. I couldn’t wait to see it all unfold.

  In addition to Anthony’s coming-out announcement, we decided to share the fact that he was born into a wealthy family and that his famous parents had now disowned him for being gay. He talked about his fighting style and his career path, his training, the physical challenges he had faced, and his past fights, but we both knew all of this was just window dressing for the real story.

  We decided to keep everything under wraps until I figured out how and when to release the interview for maximum exposure and hype.

  When we had finished working out the details of the written piece, we moved on to the photos. I set up my tripod and camera while Anthony dressed in workout clothes, hand wraps, and gloves. Then we proceeded to unveil him bit by bit in a photo story that would no doubt have its own Tumblr address within an hour of being published. By the last set of shots, Anthony had wet hair and was lounging on the bed in nothing but a white hotel towel.

  “Turn over on your stomach,” I said. “Let’s get some more ass shots. People really seemed to go for the ones I took of Kage.”

  Anthony rolled over, pulling his towel off in the process, and ended up completely naked. He tossed the towel to the floor and looked up at me where I stood with my mouth hanging open.

  “What?” he asked, and innocent little half smile tilting his full lips.

  “You’re naked.”

  “Yeah. Isn’t the interview called The Naked Truth? We need to back that shit up with some honest-to-God nudity.”