Undisputed (The Undisputed Series Book 1)

by Aaron L Speer

  Tegan forgot to close down the previous sale screen and exited the program just as the next customer approached. She kept her eyes on the screen for a moment, ready to input her passcode, but knew she could recite the order. “Hi, just be a moment,” she said, still staring at the screen as the input code screen came up. “What can I get you?”

  “Mint hot chocolate, skim milk, but extra chocolate, please.”

  Tegan punched in the request on the touchscreen. “No problem. That’s six seventy. Thanks.” She looked up to take a ten dollar note but found herself stopping, staring at the customer. He wore a hoodie with aviators, but there was no mistaking it. She was staring at Owen Gasnier.

  “Wha... Hi,” Tegan managed brightly. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, for starters, I really want a hot chocolate. And I realised I never gave you that autograph you asked for.”

  Tegan turned to see Fiona wiping the steam nozzle down, having no idea who had just walked in. She gestured to her, mouthing, “That’s Fiona.”

  He nodded his understanding and gestured to the order receipt Tegan held. She handed it over along with a pen from the register. His signature was elegant and very easy to make out. She just hoped Fiona would see it.

  Tegan placed the slip in the usual hold, stepped back to the desk, and waited to see. It didn’t take Fiona any time at all to snatch it away and study the contents. She did a double take and looked back at Tegan, spotted the man himself, and froze. Gasnier gave a small smile and wave, but thankfully, didn’t wait for her to speak. It would’ve taken days. Weeks maybe.

  He stepped forward and took her hand. “Fiona, I presume?”

  She let her hand be held, but the other covered her mouth, looking from Tegan to Gasnier and back again. Something must have switched on in her brain right then, and she burst into a delighted scream and hugged him, just after asking permission to do so. He smiled politely and gave her back a few soft pats before breaking apart. “Can I... Can I get a picture with you?”

  “Absolutely. But can you do me a favour?”

  “Uh...” Fiona looked like all her Christmases had come at once. “For sure.”

  “Can you let me steal your co-worker for a few minutes?”

  “You and...” Fiona pieced it together quickly. “Hell yeah. Go for it.”

  “I can’t. My break isn’t for another hour,” Tegan said.

  “Yes, you can. Rush is over. Go! Shoo,” Fiona replied.

  Tegan only semi tried to look like it was hard for her to leave. But she eventually walked with him out the side door and further down the back. “So, what’s this about?”

  “First, I just wanted to apologise for last night. My dad was way out of line.”

  “Well, at first, I thought so too. But, on my way home, I had a think. and I don’t think he was. You had no idea who I was. I could’ve been a psycho.”

  “No. Look, it really had nothing to do with you. There’s some kind of shady movement going on in the business to bring me down. My dad and I were talking about it before the meet and greet. If they can’t beat me in the ring, they’ll try to keep me out of it. It’s bullshit I’ve never wanted to be associated with, but now I’m so close to the belt, it’s getting worse. They’ll drum up news stories next. My dad was reminding me, in a way, that being alone with you in that setting would be all the ammunition these people would need to run with.”

  Tegan nodded. “I get it. Well, I don’t, but I do. You have to protect yourself. You have to be smart. Having me there, as wonderful as it was, probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do.”

  “Probably not, but I would do it again.”

  “You want to be a knight in shining armour as well as a bad-arse karate man?”

  Owen replied calmly, “Dunno about a knight, but I’d do it to meet you again.”

  Tegan leant her head to the side and said through a big smile, “That was really cheesy...but I liked it.”

  “Good. I was hoping it would soften you up for this.”

  “For what?”

  “Just a little payback.”

  Tegan was stopped from speaking as he pressed himself into her, sending both of them gently into the wall of the coffee house. He had one hand in her hair while his tongue teased hers and she moaned in acceptance. His kiss was long and deep. The longer he held her, the further both of them sank into the embrace. When she felt his free hand squeeze her arse, the fingers cupping her, her limbs tingled. He was doing to her exactly what she had done to him. If this was payback, she’d take it any day of the week.

  She stopped the kiss and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I gotta get back,” she gasped, out of breath.

  He, on the other hand, was breathing normally. Mr Fitness. Though his eyes blazed like she had never seen in anyone. Was this what his opponents saw? If so, no wonder he had never been beaten. Right then, he looked ready to devour her.

  He moved his lips to just under her ear, giving her light pecks. “What time do you get off?”

  Tegan closed her eyes and gripped his biceps hard. What the fuck was going on? Was this really happening? “Six,” she breathed. “Why?”

  “I’m hoping you don’t have plans.”

  “I don’t.”

  Gasnier leant back and took her hand, bringing it to his mouth. “I’ll see you at six?”

  He walked with her back to the entrance, and only then did he let go of her. She went in first, as if in a daze. There were no more customers. Gasnier posed for a selfie with Fiona, as promised, before taking his hot chocolate. She rattled off some of her well thought out strategies for his next fight, and he seemed to take it with the utmost respect. He thanked her for her support, then gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. She was so overjoyed, and it truly warmed Tegan’s heart.

  With a sip of his drink, he nodded in her direction and simply said, “Tegan.” Then he walked out.

  Fiona looked down and pressed her fingers to her cheeks before walking back to the station. “I am floating on a cloud; you know?”

  Yes, Tegan did, and she wasn’t the only one. Less than twenty-four hours ago, Tegan didn’t know his name, and she had now kissed him twice. No, not kissed, made out. What happened last night was a bit of fun, albeit tipsy, risky fun. It was something else. Tegan fixed herself a glass of water, drained it in two gulps, then refilled and drained it again.

  This, Fiona noticed as she leant against the counter. “And now... What did you two get up to?”

  “He, um... He apologised for what his dad said last night.”

  “That’s it? Then why do you have the look of someone that got hit over the head with a bat? Did he roundhouse kick you?”

  Tegan shook the joke off, trying to put into words what was, in her mind, so weird to even think. “I think... I think I’m going out on a date with him tonight.”

  Fiona broke out into another squeal, saying things Tegan wasn’t really listening to. She was too distracted. It wasn’t the prospect of the date that had her so frazzled. It wasn’t that she had to rush home and get clothes, only to come back here so he could pick her up. It wasn’t even the kiss that was stuck in her mind. None of them. It was a gesture so simple, so innocent, she couldn’t understand why it meant so much to her; that he held her hand the short distance they walked from the wall to the door.

  * * *

  Owen stepped inside his rented apartment and sat down on the couch. He hadn’t really thought this through. Hell, he hadn’t even planned on asking her out. It just happened. Where the hell was he going to take her? Was this right?

  He was only in Sydney for a few days. He couldn’t offer her anything real. He couldn’t offer anyone anything like a real relationship. His training and his lifestyle just did not support more than one night here and there. He had temporary lovers from all over the world, none of which the media or his father knew about. Most were fellow fighters. They needed to release some tension just like he did. No misunderstandings. It was a well-kept secret amo
ng fighters because you never gossiped about the peers you slept with. The more attention the press gives you, the harder it is to maintain something simple like going to the movies or a restaurant. So, most hook-ups were organised face-to-face. Direct and to the point. Usually after matches with no media around.

  His most recent was Lindsay Lourde. They spent two nights in a Belgium hotel. Their rooms were right next to each other, and after their matches, she asked him if he was busy. They spent the next thirty hours or so without clothes. The only thing he wore was a condom. After the second day, she returned to her room with a wave and a smile to pack for her flight and had never contacted him again. No hard feelings. No expectations. That was the world he lived in.

  But it wasn’t the world Tegan lived in. He couldn’t and wouldn’t treat her like a lover to be tossed aside. In the fighting world, it was expected. There was no such thing as a slut or man-whore. You trained hard, you fought hard, you fucked hard. You moved on.

  Even cheating on your spouse wasn’t looked at as a big deal, yet that was something Owen would never do. In his heart of hearts, he knew he would never make the same mistake his father had. It tore his family apart, and Owen hadn’t seen his mother in years. To his knowledge, she had never seen any of his fights. Not only did the sport rob her of what she thought was a loving engagement, but it had sucked in her only child too. He hated his dad for a long time after his cheating was revealed, but over time, Owen realised if he couldn’t hate his mum for wanting nothing to do with either of them, he couldn’t hate his dad. The cycle of resentment and bitterness had to stop somewhere, and Owen decided it would stop with him.

  This life was lonely whether you surrounded yourself with beautiful women, booze, drugs and hangers on or not. Very few people treated you as if you were worth something unless you were bringing in money, or in other words, winning. Well, he had never been defeated, yet the only person that had stuck by him was his father.

  Mistakes notwithstanding, his dad was a tiger protecting him. One of the reasons Robert never wanted Owen in the business was because he feared Owen would make the same mistakes. But both men grew to know, though they were father and son, they were two very different people.

  In a strange way, Owen found Tegan attractive, in part, because she didn’t like fighting. She didn’t know who he was. She didn’t care who he was. He found just talking with her enlightening. She could hold a conversation and wasn’t afraid to be herself, to be honest. The fact she wasn’t a bad kisser was just icing. She had kissed him, originally to get him out of trouble and put the onus on herself, also to put his father at ease.

  He kissed her because...well... He shouldn’t have kissed her. He could’ve misread the situation entirely, and she could’ve viewed it as him forcing himself on her; just what his father was afraid of. What she even said he had to be careful of. But she kissed him back. And, to add even more confusion, for some reason he asked her out. And she accepted a date with a guy who wouldn’t even be in the country next week. Jesus, what a mess.

  He had to snap himself out of his daydream when his father entered the room, hanging up a phone call.

  “OK. That was six-one point nine radio. I got an interview for you, plus a photo shoot later this afternoon. Might as well make the most out of being back home for a while.”

  “What time this afternoon?”

  “Five thirty.”

  Owen leant his head back. “Can’t do it. Sorry.”

  “What do you mean you can’t do it?”

  “I’ve already made plans.”

  “Shit,” Robert peered down at his scribbles. “I should’ve confirmed with you, but to be fair, you never make plans this late in the day. Can I ask what you’re doing?”

  “Oh, you know...” Owen said as he readied to get into the shower, “…making the most of being home.”

  “You didn’t make plans during the sponsor event tomorrow, right?”

  “Uh... No.” But he had completely forgotten about it. If he was going to defeat the nasty, shadowy aspects of the business, he needed backers—sponsors with deep pockets that believed in him or his ability to generate money for them.

  “You forgot, didn’t you?”

  “No, no. No. I remembered. It’s on tomorrow morning, right? At, um...um...”

  “It’s after our weights recovery at eight am—”

  “Eight! See, I knew,” he replied, tossing his shirt on the bed and rounding the corner to the bathroom. “I knew that. No worries.”

  * * *

  “Have you got condoms?”

  The question made Tegan pause in dabbing her lip gloss. She and Fiona were inside the café’s toilets. Fiona was giving what she thought was sound, albeit rushed and manic, advice as Tegan got changed.

  “Don’t look like that,” Fiona said with a mock finger of admonishment. “Safety is everybody’s responsibility.”

  “I’m not going to screw him.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I hardly know him, for starters.”

  “Are you serious? This is Owen Gasnier we’re talking about!”

  “Yeah, to you, babe. To me, he’s a handsome guy that asked me out. That’s all.”

  “And made out with you twice in the space of twenty-four hours. You are so lucky you’re not a fight fan. Anyone else would be freaking the fuck out.”

  But she was freaking out. Her mind was whizzing at a hundred miles an hour. The condom question had only reinforced her confusion. Was sex in the cards? Would he expect it? She’d like to think not, but he was the biggest ‘celebrity’ she’d ever met. She knew of girls that were pursued by football players and vice versa. Most were used as cheap pieces of arse. What’s more, it was commonly accepted by both parties that this was the case. The girls just wanted to say they screwed someone famous.

  Tegan’s last boyfriend had taken off over a year ago. He had balked at the idea of meeting her family when she asked if he could take time off work for her cousin’s wedding. He didn’t even feel right about going to visit her parent’s graves with her. She hadn’t been in a relationship or gotten laid since. Things had just been pottering along. Stale. Familiar. Boring. The one thing cutting through her anxiety and questions about tonight was her sense of adventure. She had been asked out by an MMA fighter. Was it a big deal? Did it mean nothing? Who knew? Who cared? If she went into this with an open mind and few expectations, she would be OK. But the biggest expectation she had was the same for all her first dates. No sex.

  She checked the clock. Right on time. “OK. I’m ready.”

  Fiona walked Tegan out to the front door, and they both spotted him across the road, leaning against the side of a car, looking over at them. Fiona gave Tegan a quick hug, then set her free, chanting softly, “Work it, baby. Work it.”

  She approached him, the small grin on his face giving her butterflies. “Hi,” she said, to which he replied by taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth.

  “Shall we?”

  “We shall.”

  He helped her into the car and headed across to the driver’s side, giving Fiona a wave before getting in and taking off.

  “So, where are we heading?” she asked.

  “Ah, well now. That’s a great question. Bullshit answer is, I have an amazing night planned.”

  Tegan furled her eyebrows and tried not to laugh. “And the real one?”

  “This was spontaneous as all get out, and I have no idea where to take you.”

  Tegan snorted, chuckling. “You beat a guy in eight seconds ‘cause you’re so precise, but you can’t decide what to have for dinner?”

  He shrugged. “So, sue me.”

  Tegan looked out the window. “I’ve got an idea. Park when you can.”

  “Here?”

  “Here.”

  When they got out, Tegan didn’t wait for him to open the door for her. But she did wait for him to join her, nodding her head at their destination as he did. They faced a food truck parked on the sm
all, grassed-over area under Circular Quay train station.

  “You serious?” he asked.

  “Best fish and chips in Sydney.”

  Tegan waited in line, for a minute or so, before it was her turn and she gave her order. The man behind the counter looked to be in his fifties. He was extremely well-presented clothes-wise, and every appliance inside the food truck gleamed. The man’s face, though, was a different story. Tegan had seen it before, in her own reflection at times. Exhaustion. She couldn’t help but ask if he was OK. He thanked her for asking. His only other staff member had gotten married the week before. This had been his tenth straight shift.

  As she stepped aside and waited, Gasnier approached the counter. The owner’s eyes got wide as recognition struck, and a beaming smile suddenly adorned his face. All the tiredness had evaporated, and he bounded out of the truck and down to shake the fighter’s hand. The owner was rattling off his praise quickfire. Words coming a million miles an hour. He wasn’t at the fight last night, but he closed early and went to the pub to watch the main event. Just like with Fiona, Gasnier took it all in stride, smiling and thanking him for his support.

  Twenty minutes later, after more praise and several selfies with Gasnier, Con, as he told them to call him, was so joyous in the night’s turn of events he had given them a whole heap of extra food. Before they left, Tegan noticed Gasnier shake the man’s hand one last time, putting a few crisp, green, one hundred dollar notes in there.

  Con refused passionately, trying to return the cash, but it was respectfully dismissed. “Please, brother, I’ll be offended. You’re killing yourself trying to provide a service and make a living. Like we all are. Take tomorrow off. Sleep in. Take your wife out for a nice meal. Do something for yourself. I want you still here when I come back, yeah?”

  It was said in such good humour that Con was stunned. Tegan and Gasnier walked away, but she turned back to wave, noticing Con press the cash to his chest, almost tearing up with gratitude.

  They hadn’t gone more than twenty metres when Gasnier was approached. It was a man with his son, asking for an autograph. “Sure,” Gasnier said, placing the food in the man’s hand. “Hold this, and you got a deal.” He signed a torn-off strip of paper from the food and asked to see the boys best punch to his outstretched hand. The lad was only nine or so but gave it his best go. When Gasnier pulled back and gave his hand a wring, all the while cringing, the boy’s eyes lit up. Owen Gasnier had just told him how strong he was!