by Maya Rossi
“I see what you’re doing, how long are you going to fucking run?” Eddy laughed at her antics and lengthened his strides to keep up.
A group of rowdy teenage boys tumbled out of Terry’s as Ava ran in laughing. It was a great night for her favorite date idea — a sports bar, preferably on a fight night and beer. Throw in Terry’s chips and you had perfection. It should be big enough to drown out her disappointment after the failed meeting with the brass. Maybe she would stop hearing Fiona’s voice saying, “Miss Miller the answer’s still no.”
One boy stumbled, catching on to her shoulders to break his fall.
“Zor- Sorry,” he slurred, pulling tight on her shoulders as he straightened.
Ava grimaced, adjusting her stance to bear his considerable weight. Just then, she felt a light but insistent tug on her purse from behind. She froze, senses attuned and zeroed in on that hand. When the hand moved to grab her bag, Ava growled. Unchecked, boiling and roaring, her anger from that unforgettable evening with Frank, the times she was passed over for Mason or Gary and the self-sabotaged meeting slammed into her so hard Ava staggered back.
Without missing a beat, she pulled her arm back slightly and elbowed whatever body part she could reach. She narrowed her eyes, balled her fists and went to work. With satisfaction she heard the groan of pain and shuffling feet as one of the boys went down.
“Awww,” someone groaned.
Since it was a fight night, Terry’s was crowded. The entry area particularly so, as the baseball fans left for the boxing fans to come in.
Lost in a sea of arms and legs, her handbag began to slip off her shoulders. Ava struggled to push her head above the crowd. She loved Terry’s, but this was too much. But maybe it was exactly what she needed to get things off her chest. She dug her newly fixed nails into the hand closed around her bag. Someone screamed.
As suddenly as it began, the sound of scuffles and grunts seized. A muscular arm, harder than she was used to, plucked her out of the melee like a cotton ball. With an unladylike squeal, she dug her nails into the unyielding flesh and held on as she flew to land against a hard chest. She blinked, breath leaving her lungs in a gust of air.
The knowledge that this was a more formidable foe slammed into her consciousness. Never one to back down from a fight, Ava sank her teeth into the hand clamped around her middle. She kicked her legs backwards and beat at his sides with her hands. Wherever her hands reached, she tried to do damage.
Whoever this man was, he was damn strong. Her teeth barely made a dent in the corded muscle. Ava released the slightly salty flesh to search for a more vulnerable body part to target.
Golden brown eyes that seemed oddly familiar held hers for an instant. “Stop that rubbish so I can deal with these boys,” he said calmly.
His voice was deep and rough, like stones rubbed against each other. Ava tried to make out his features in the dim light and came up empty. “How do I know you’re not one of them?”
He tilted his face down to probe at a bump on her arm. Ava shivered. "Put me down.”
“You’re hurt,” he said in that voice that sounded like rocks tumbling down a cliff.
“Didn’t you hear me?” She recognized one boy inching away and struggled, fighting to get down. “Put me the hell down.”
When her head hit his shoulders, the most delicious smell drifted into her nostrils. A tantalizing mix of wood, smoke, fruit and masculine leather, it had to be the best male cologne in the world. She bit her lower lip to hold back a moan. Eddy definitely needed whatever cologne this guy wore.
Impatiently, he shook her slightly. “Are you all right?”
The voice sounded smoother this time, no gravel. Ava nodded. Eyes narrowed to see better in the dim light, she tried to make out his features. A generic looking face cap shielded the upper part of his face. She got the impression of a high forehead, stark cheekbones and full lips.
“Will you put me down now? I need to show these boys something, when I’m done, they’ll know I grew up on the fucking streets--”
He moved. For a moment, Ava hung over six feet high off the ground. She tightened her hands tight around his neck until he grunted.
The crush worked to their advantage, preventing the boys from making a clean getaway. With a casual display of strength, he reached for the nearest boy, wrapping a huge paw around his neck. Ava stiffened. He wouldn’t kill him. Struggling against his hold, she dug her nails into his skin to get down. “Don’t you fucking kill him, they’re just hustling and--”
“I thought you wanted to show them you grew up on the streets?” he asked, irritated.
Ava stopped fighting and blinked. “Yes, but--”
“Shut up and stop cursing.”
What the hell? “I didn’t exactly ask for your help,” Ava snapped. “I was handling it.”
The man didn’t reply. Effortlessly, he subdued the boys and threw them out one handed.
Since she was basically strapped across his chest, Ava had front row seat and was close enough to see his chest barely moved. Neither did he break a sweat. Jesus. It was hot.
“That was hot,” she muttered.
The man glanced at her, nonplussed. “Yeah?”
Carefully, he placed her on the ground, waiting solicitously until she had her feet under her. “Okay?”
“Yes, but I could have handled it,” she added grudgingly.
“Of course.” He sighed heavily. “Women who act all strong and capable but scream harassment when they’re beaten.”
Ava saw red. “You listen, you misogynistic, bullheaded, more muscled than sensible fool, I can handle myself and when women scream harassment, it’s not out of defeat it’s because they hurt.”
She sensed rather than saw his arched brows. “What would you have done if the boys got the upper hand?”
For a second she was stumped. Then she rallied. “Terry’s my friend so I’m not going to sue, but I’ll report to the police and --”
“Now, that’s smarter than growling like a banshee and screaming like--”
“I wasn’t growling, I was — I was handling it.”
His expression told her what he thought of her reply. “Know when you’re defeated and step away, that’s a victory in itself.”
Damn, he was right. And he had actually helped her. Anger over the shit at work had been her fuel and now it was gone, she noticed her hand hurt. Ava flexed her fingers. “Have you stepped away from a fight before, because you couldn’t win?”
He hesitated. “Because I didn’t deserve to win.”
She pounced. “That’s not the same thing.”
Snagging a cold bottle of beer from a passing waiter, he caught her fingers and held it to the bottle. Ava hissed at the contact. “You need to check out that hand.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a street fighter.”
Ignoring his jibe, Ava withdrew her fingers from his and pressed the cold bottle to her fingers. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Wasn’t aware there was one.” He took out his phone, checked sit over and slipped it into his back pocket.
“Do you give up--”
“Step away.”
She rolled her eyes. “Have you stepped away because you know you can’t win?”
“No.”
“But you have stepped away because you felt you didn’t deserve to win?”
“Yes.”
“That’s confusing. Why wouldn’t you deserve to win a fight?”
“We’re different. Every fight is different with different narratives fueling it. The reason I choose to take a beating will be different from the reason why you chose to fight like a hellcat tonight. But knowing when to fight is the lesson today and you gotta learn it. No more questions, take care of that hand.”
Hung up on the part where he chose to take a beating because he felt he deserved it, it took a minute for the rest of his words to sink in. “What if you weren’t here?”<
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“But I was. And you chose to fight me even when you knew I was helping you.” His head lifted lightly. “And your boyfriend’s even here. What if those boys had a knife, if you were my woman, I’ll take you over my knee.”
Ava’s mouth dropped open. While she was still processing that strange statement, Eddy stopped at her side, panting. “What the fucking hell. I told you we shouldn’t--”
“I’m Terry, the owner.” Standing at over six feet six inches with his previously muscled body gone to fat now, Terry was huge. He bent over to search her face worriedly, not that he could see anything in the low light. “You all right, kiddo? Damn, I need a bouncer. If that man wasn’t here--”
When Ava looked, the man was gone. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I just want to have a good time.”
Terry and his bar was a staple in Navesink. Almost every sportsman from their growing town had his support and those of the locals. With his leather chaps, tattoos, ringed fingers and a permanent scowl, he barely masked the teddy bear inside. Now, he led her to the bar where the lighting was better to look her over. It seemed to take forever for Terry to stop fawning over her.
“Come on, kiddo.” He caught her hand and led her through the crowded bar straight to the back. “You guys will have privacy, a bit of quiet and some chips?”
“Fucking chips,” Eddy murmured. At the death stare from Terry, he wisely stopped speaking.
After Terry left, Eddy hustled her into a seat near the wall. From here, she could see huge flat screen T. V filled with the statistics of the two fighters. The atmosphere was tense and filled with anticipation. Many patrons glared their disapproval at their noisy entrance. Ava lived for the crowd, the bickering and insults on fight nights in Terry’s bar. She grinned and waved at some regulars she recognized and took her seat.
“Man, the heat is stifling but I see what you mean, the crowd’s amazing,” Eddy said.
“Their passion elevates the most boring fights to unbelievable standards,” she shouted back.
“Ava, as I live and breathe. Where have you been?” Robin, a waitress and former classmate reached out to hug her tight. Her brown hair hung in huge waves down her back, she looked absolutely radiant and glowing.
In her ear, she whispered, “Dress pants are fine, my mouth is my enemy. Forgive me?”
Ava drew back and nodded. “I just wanted you to be happy for me, not go in on my fiance.”
“Fiance? Already?” Despite her apology, Robin looked horrified. She recalled her script and forced a smile. “Sorry, congratulations.”
Pressing her hand to Robin’s bulging stomach, Ava smiled. What would it feel like to have a life growing inside her? “Man, this is incredible. This your what? Sixth or seventh? We gotta have Steve start paying bride price or something, he just can’t get away with this much blessings.”
Steve, a complete sweetheart and bear of a man, pushed past Eddy to drop an oversized paw on her head. “Fuck off.” He pulled Ava off her feet to hug her tight. “How you doing?”
“Good, good. I can’t wait to meet the new addition to the brood. And I’ll do that sooner after you leave.”
Eyes narrowed, he looked from his wife to Ava and back again. “Thank God.” He turned to Ava with his usual exuberance. “Who’s your pick? Morgan or James?” Steve asked as Robin moved away to resume waitressing duties.
“My head and the stats says Morgan but my heart will always pick the underdog over the vet,” Ava said.
“Me, I pick the vet over the rookie,” Eddy added.
“Underdog and rookie mean different things,” Steve agreed. “For example, if the fight between Ryan and Marshall ever happens, not one of them will be an undergo.”
“Marshall maybe.” Ava took the beer from Robin with a murmured thanks.
Steve shook his head, the red color in his beard catching the dim lights. “Marshall an underdog? I’ve got Ryan in my heart of hearts but that man is a fucking beast.”
“What’s this you people have with Ryan? The man’s just lucky,” Edward said scornfully.
Easygoing Steve disappeared in a flash. “Watch your words, man. You’re in Ryan’s home turf, dating his girl--”
“What the hell does that mean, his girl?” Eddy half rose, getting himself worked up.
Ava caught his arm and pulled him back. “Jeez, jealousy only sounds hot in books. He just means yours truly is from Navesink and so is Ryan Highland.”
Eddy held out a hand. “It’s all peace, man.”
Steve took his hand but his eyes had gone considerably colder. With a tip of the chin universal among men, he took his leave.
“Come on, Av,” Eddy kissed her cheek. “They’re about to make their entrance. Your boy better have game.”
“Don’t worry, he’s got it. From the stats and the history between the two men, James doesn’t seem to have much going for him except his puncher’s chance.” Father always said never to write off a man with a puncher’s chance.
“A well-aimed punch will end anyone’s chances,” Eddy agreed. “Except fucking Marshall.”
The entrance from James was glorious, and the crowd loved it. Ava loved rooting for the underdog. It was why she was decked out in James’ gear from head to toe. She badly wanted the young fighter to win. When he finally bounded into the ring, many gave him a standing ovation.
“Fuck, can these people get any lamer, this is just the fucking entrance, he might be down after one punch,” Eddy pointed out.
Even though he was right, Ava rose to scream her approval at the screen. Eddy shook his head, laughing. He rose to his feet. “Let me go see about the trousers.”
“Damn, I completely forgot,” Ava admitted with a wince.
“Nah, I know my fiancee’s priorities when a fight is on.”
James and Morgan did the whole pre-fight show. The boxing introductions followed with a long announcement for Morgan. With a groan, Ava shifted back two paces to get to her seat. And promptly landed on someone’s lap.
It was the muscular man with the hot moves. “Hey, Mr face cap guy.”
A corner of his full lips twitched. “Mr face cap guy?”
Ava scrambled off his lap to her seat. This part of the bar was so dim it effectively hid the man from view. “You’ve been sitting here all this time?”
He pointed a finger at his ear and shook his head. Ava didn’t understand what that meant. Keeping one eye on the screen where the two combatants touched gloves to begin the bout, she leaned closer and was immediately engulfed in the special mix of his cologne. It was like sex packaged as a male fragrance. “I said, you’ve been here all along?”
The reply she got was a steady stare that screamed, ‘obviously.’ “I’m sorry about before,” she said louder.
He leaned back, looking shocked by her apology. “What?”
“I’m sorry about before, I was ungracious and rude, I just… I have a lot going on, but that’s not an excuse.”
She leaned closer, careful to keep her breast from any part of his body and took a discrete sniff. The man stiffened, and the cap swiveled in her direction. “Did you just sniff me?”
Was she supposed to be embarrassed? From the gobsmacked vibes he was giving-- because she still could not make out his features, it seemed she had definitely overstepped a line in the social graces department. “Sorry?”
A rumbling sound, like a laugh or a bad cough tickled out of his chest. He coughed loudly. “Sorry?”
“What’s the name of your cologne?” she asked.
Something indefinable changed in the air. She must have said the wrong thing because the currents in the field between them sort of went still. Ava checked her question mentally and found nothing wrong with it.
“You want the name of my cologne?” he sounded odd, like her request was unbelievable.
“I love it. It’s like sex wrapped and packaged as a fragrance, if that makes sense?”
He shook his head slowly.
Ava turned her attention to the big sc
reen. “Any way, I want it for my fiance.”
Robin came waddling over, her brown curls and t-shirt sticking to her body in wet patches. Ava winced. She looked on the verge of exhaustion.
“Where’s Eddy?” she asked.
“He went to take care of an emergency — girl, should you still be working with that belly?”
Robin glared at Ava, defiance boiling off her in great waves. “Not you too.”
“Here.” A gravelly voice intruded. The face cap guy handed Robin what looked like a battery-operated hand fan. His ropey, muscular hand pressed against her middle. With a muttered sorry, he adjusted. Depressing a red button, he said, “That’s the power, you use it to get it going.”