by A. Rivers
He has? He hardly seems the chatty type.
“Best friend, huh?” I ask, because based on the way her cheeks flushed when he kissed her, she’s into him as more than a friend.
But she just nods. “Yeah, Gabe and I go way back. Come on, I’ll show you to our seats.” As we walk, she talks. “Gabe and I grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools.” She sighs. “We used to be inseparable.”
I have to increase my pace to keep up. Though she’s shorter than me, Sydney can move fast. “Used to be?”
She slants me a wry look. “The only thing he’s inseparable from these days is his boxing gloves. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but MMA is more than a sport or a job to these guys. It’s an obsession.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”
She pushes an unmarked door and suddenly we’re in the arena. It’s massive, with a high ceiling, grandstands, and a cage in the center. The seats are starting to fill, and the atmosphere is buzzing with excitement. It hits me now how real this is. Before long, Jase is going to walk the aisle between the seats and enter the ring. He’ll face off against Karson, and you can bet your ass they’re both going to bring the pain.
I’m not sure if I can handle this.
“Oh, shit. I can’t.” I stop walking, and Sydney spins to face me.
“It’s okay,” she says, reaching over to thread her fingers through mine. “I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there. But you need to remember that our boys are tough. Jase has trained harder for this fight than any other, and if you’ve ever seen him, you know he usually kicks ass. Gabe says it’s like he’s possessed.”
She squeezes my hand, and I pray my palm isn’t too sweaty because she’s being really nice and I don’t want to pay her back by perspiring all over her.
“Jase will give everything he has out there, and you have to have faith it’ll be enough.” Her lips kick up. “Think you can do that? If not, tell me now because I also snuck in a flask of tequila and a pair of tinted glasses.” She leans closer and murmurs, “They’re great for pretending to watch when you’re really shitting yourself.”
Her honesty startles a laugh from me. “I think I’ll be okay,” I tell her. “But you’re kind of great, did you know that?”
She flashes her perfect teeth. “I try.”
My legs release from their knee-lock and I follow her to a pair of reserved seats immediately in front of the cage. Possibly the best seats in the entire place.
I whistle. “Impressive.”
“I know, right?. The boys always make sure I get to watch in style.”
We sit, and Sydney draws a copy of the fight card from her purse, passing it to me. I scan the names, quickly finding the only one I care about.
“Jase is last.” That means I have to sit through every undercard fight before we get to him. The nerves are going to kill me.
“That’s because he’s the main event. It’s a big honor for him.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make me any less queasy.”
She slings an arm around me. She’s a very touchy person, which reminds me of Breanna, and I instinctively like her more for it. A subtle scent washes over me. What is that? I sniff.
“It’s disinfectant,” she explains, and I immediately feel like a weirdo for being so obvious about it. “I’m a surgical resident at Sunrise Hospital.”
“That’s awesome.” She must be crazy smart.
Sydney shakes her head. “No, awesome is what you did for Jase.”
“Thanks.” I’m a little uncomfortable with her compliment, but it’s sweet. “You know what?” I ask. “I’ve got a good feeling about you. I think we’re going to be friends.”
She grins back. “I agree.”
We settle in and it doesn’t take long before the first fight is announced. The ball of tension in my gut winds tighter, and I prepare myself for a long evening.
19
Jase
I’m always jittery before a fight, but tonight I’m driving myself crazy. I pace restlessly, shadowbox, and get told several times not to warm up too early. I know I shouldn’t, but nerves are eating at my insides. This fight is a big deal. Even before I met Lena, it was going to be the biggest of my career so far, but now my girl’s honor is on the line. I will win this fight for her. I intend to smear Karson Hayes’s blood all over the floor and roll around in it. Then, and only then, will I deserve to have her back.
As time passes, the back corridor rooms empty. First the amateurs leave, then the pros. Eventually, a medic comes by to check my blood pressure and make sure I’m uninjured. An hour before I’m due to make my grand entrance, Seth wraps my hands. Though I’m capable of doing my own, wrapping his fighter’s hands is a ritual for Seth at events like this. It calms him. He can be a raging psycho otherwise.
“You got this,” he murmurs as he winds tape around my knuckles, then loops it between each of my fingers. “You trained hard, just stick to the game plan. Get him on the ground and keep him there. Don’t let up. Karson is best on his feet. He’s a distance striker. If you give him the chance, he’ll toy with you. Don’t let that happen. You hear me?”
I nod. “Loud and clear.”
He puts the finishing touches on one hand and moves to the other. “He’ll try to piss you off, and get in your head. Ignore him. If he says anything, all you hear is ‘blah blah blah.’ Got it?”
“Yeah.” I already know this. Karson will want to run his mouth. Talk smack about Lena. He’ll want to put me at a disadvantage. For some people, anger motivates them to victory, but it clouds my vision. I need to keep a clear head.
“You remember how to start?”
“Throw a strike to catch him off guard, then take him down.”
“Atta boy.” He finishes my wraps and jerks his chin at someone over my shoulder. “Dev, come and spar with Jase. Nice and easy. I want him limbered up and ready to go, but not tired.”
“Yes, sir.” Devon salutes him, but Seth doesn’t smile. In fact, he looks ready to crack a jaw. “Tough audience.”
Devon slips on a pair of padded boxing gloves to lessen the impact of his strikes and moves in. I bounce on the balls of my feet and, when he’s ready to go, throw an overhand punch. Devon ducks, and I trip him. He falls neatly to the floor and rolls, coming back up before I can pounce. Excitement blazes in his eyes. Devon is crazy when he fights. He seems to love being in the cage regardless of whether he’s doing the pounding or being pounded. That’s how he got his nickname: Dangerous. There’s nothing more dangerous than a fighter who doesn’t care if he gets hurt.
I strike again, and he counters. We circle each other, and Seth barks out orders to me while Gabe coaches Devon. By the time we stop, a sheen of sweat covers my body and my muscles are loose. All except the ones in my stomach. My fucking anxiety hasn’t gone anywhere. Aren’t I supposed to be above that shit by now?
The promoter’s assistant sticks his head through the door and tells us we’re due out in five minutes. Seth helps me into my fight jacket and rubs Vaseline over my cheeks and forehead. My heart is a steady thump in my chest. Despite being nervous, I’ve done this routine plenty of times before, and I know what comes next. It’s all so familiar to me. Gabe and Devon check the contents of my spit bucket. Ice, liquid adrenaline, water, Vaseline, mouthguard, first aid kit. They form a line behind me, with Seth at the head and Devon at the rear. I jog lightly on the spot to stay warm.
The assistant returns, and checks my hands to make sure we’re obeying regulations, then gives the nod of approval. Together, we make our way through the corridors, past a number of trainers from other gyms who nod and mutter encouragements. We pause out of sight of the arena and wait. After a moment, my walk-out song plays over the loudspeakers.
Immediately, adrenaline floods my body, the same way it always does when I hear this song. It’s my cue to enter warrior mode. I rock in time to the beat and wait for the perfect moment, right as the music crashes down from a cresc
endo. I stride out, chin up, shoulders back, and inject every bit of swagger I can into my walk. The audience roars for me. I don’t smile, because this moment sets the tone of the match. Up ahead, Karson is already in the cage, waiting. He waves his fists in the air and stomps his foot. He’s always been a show pony.
Asshole.
Then I hear a familiar voice amid the crowd.
“Jase!” she screams. “Smash him, Jase! You’ve got this in the bag!”
Glancing down, I spot Lena. Our eyes lock, and a powerful charge passes between us. I nod to her, and a strange calm descends over me. She’s right. This fight is mine. Because I’m fighting for her, and you know what that means?
I can’t lose.
I’m fucking invincible.
She’ll be waiting for me after, and I don’t care how sore I am, I’m going to keep her in bed all weekend. I’ll fuck her so thoroughly, she can’t remember there’s a world outside the bedroom.
Seconds later, I’m in the cage. The announcer yells my name, and then Karson’s. The umpire summons us to the center and gives the usual spiel. We don’t bump fists. Karson doesn’t deserve that honor. We each return to our corner, then a beeper sounds, and I rush forward.
Lena
As the fight begins, I’m equal parts mesmerized and horrified. Jase is like poetry when he moves. Beautiful, lethal poetry. There’s no tentativeness as his fist plows straight into Karson’s face and I shriek my support. Karson slams a knee into Jase’s gut and I interlock my fingers with Sydney’s. Jase doesn’t react to the strike, but he does something with his feet, and the next thing I know, Karson is falling to the ground, taking Jase with him. They roll and struggle for the dominant position and I clutch Sydney even harder.
Jase comes out on top, and I whoop. Rearing back, he bludgeons Karson with one of those massive hands that have held me so gently. He hits him again, and again. Karson tucks his chin and tries to shield his face. Then, somehow, he shifts and flips Jase to the bottom.
I scream. “Get up! Get the fuck up!” And when Karson punches Jase’s gorgeous face, I squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
The crowd cheers, and I’m afraid to look. Then a ding sounds and Sydney’s voice is in my ear.
“It’s okay, Lena. The round has ended. Jase is fine.”
Opening my eyes, I blink until my vision readjusts. In the cage, Seth is up in Jase’s grill, talking and gesturing with firm movements. Devon is icing his legs, and Gabe is smearing something over a cut at his temple.
“What’s he saying?” I ask Sydney, although I have no idea why I think she knows the answer.
But she eyes them thoughtfully. “My guess is Seth is telling Jase to get him in a chokehold and force him to tap out.”
“How do you work that out?”
She looks over at me. “A couple of things. After a while, you get good at reading Seth’s hand gestures. Also, choking people is Jase’s specialty, so it’s a pretty safe bet.”
I shudder. Legal or not, there’s something scary about having a lover who’s known for choking his opponents. The umpire orders the others out of the cage and the second round begins. Whatever Seth said, it’s fired Jase up because he launches himself at Karson and knocks him to the ground. Grabbing him from behind, he wraps his legs around Karson’s waist and loops his elbow under his chin. Karson throws his weight around, trying to dislodge Jase, but he’s like a pit bull and doesn’t let go. There’s a steeliness in his eyes I recognize, and also a gleam of triumph.
He’s got this.
Karson can’t shake him. The other fighter bucks and flails to no avail. Finally, his face red, he taps the floor. The umpire ends the fight and hurries to separate them. Karson bends over, gasping for air, and Jase leaps nimbly to his feet, waving a fist. I scream, and so does everyone else.
Then he turns and looks right at me. Heat shoots straight to my core. He’s sweaty and bleeding, every muscle popping like crazy, and I want him to pin me against a wall and fuck me harder than ever before. But then his crew swarm, and his gaze is torn from mine.
“Damn, girl,” Sydney exclaims, bumping my shoulder. “That was hot.”
It was. So hot I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin with want. My body aches for him, and so does my heart. I want to go to him, right now, but the umpire is taking his hand and raising it above his head. A pretty girl in a tube top and miniskirt fastens the world’s largest belt around his waist and then someone is shoving a microphone in front of him. The volume of the audience falls, as they all wait for him to speak. He’s grinning. The biggest, most stupidly sexy grin I’ve ever seen.
“Hi, everyone,” he says, his tone uneven, as though he hasn’t caught his breath yet. “This is such an honor. I wanna thank my coach, Seth Isles, and my training partners from Crown MMA. I couldn’t have done it without you.” At this, both Gabe and Devon hit their fists to their hearts. He looks over at Karson, who’s sulking in the corner. “I also wanna thank Karson for bringing his A-game.”
Karson glares like he wants to flip him off, but nods graciously.
“But there’s also someone else I need to thank,” Jase says, and then his eyes are on me.
I go still inside. He holds my gaze, and I wish I was closer so I could see what’s going on behind those slate gray eyes.
“A special woman gave me the motivation I needed to pull through.”
Oh. My. God. He’s talking about me.
Sydney gives my shoulder a push, and hisses, “Go to him.”
But I don’t move. I can’t. My feet are rooted to the ground.
In the cage, Jase clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. “I always thought love was a distraction, but it turns out it’s the most powerful motivator of all.” Then he hands the microphone to someone else and stalks toward me.
My legs are jelly. My spine, too. This man has turned all of me to goo. I can’t even tell how the people in the arena are responding to this unexpected turn of events because I can’t hear them anymore. All I can hear is the drumming of my pulse in my ears.
Jase stops in front of me and reaches out a hand. I take it, and he yanks me upright. I can see his eyes now, and they’re so freaking deep and warm, and the emotion in them rocks me, but he holds my arms so I don’t fall. Movements around us blur into the background. I stare at him, and he stares right back. The moment seems to go on forever, and I wonder which of us will be the first to break it.
Jase
I am the fucking super lightweight champion. But better than that, I feel like a man who’s worthy of Lena. Maybe it’s the adrenaline talking. Shit, maybe it’s just the caveman part of me that wanted to vanquish her ex, but I’m on top of the world, and all I care about is that Lena keeps looking at me this way every day for the rest of our lives.
Fuck, she’s perfect, and her eyes say everything her words haven’t. She wants me. She’s proud of me. She loves me.
“Lena,” I rasp, smoothing a battered hand around the sweet curve of her face. “I know what you did for me.”
Her lips part, but no sound emerges. I want to kiss them. I want to claim those pouty red lips in front of everyone here, but I need to talk to her first.
“This was all for you,” I tell her, willing her to understand. “I won for you.”
Her eyes widen, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. My cup is suddenly too tight at my groin. I bend so my mouth hovers above hers.
“I love you,” I whisper. “And I want to be with you. I’m sorry for pushing you away. I promise, if you give me another chance, I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”
“Jase, I—”
“Wait a sec.” I hold a finger to her lips. I need to finish this properly. But she licks my finger and heat lashes through me. My cup situation changes from uncomfortable to downright painful, and I drop my hand away. “You also gotta know that if you say yes to me, that’s it. I’ll destroy any other man who dares touch you.” I hear the
steel in my voice, and know she does too. Does it make me a Neanderthal? Fuck, yeah. Do I care? Not a bit. This is my woman, and I’ll challenge anyone who says otherwise. Except for her, of course.
Her lips lift, her palms cup my face, and then she kisses me. Hell, yes. Hell, yes. Finally, I can own her lips like I’ve been dying to ever since I first touched her. Love and adrenaline fuel me, and I hoist her up. She wraps her legs around me but our mouths don’t separate. Our tongues tangle, and I’m drunk on the taste of her. The smell of her. The urge to fuck and mark and claim.
Supporting her weight with one arm, I wave to the crowd with the other and carry her back down the aisle, out to my changing room, where I lock the door and back her against it. Bracing an arm above her head, I lean down and slide my tongue over her swollen lips. Her eyes are glazed, and she’s panting. Her fingers trail down my abs, and I shudder at her touch.
“I love you,” I tell her again. “I’d conquer the world for you. Whatever you had to do to make Erin back down, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“I love you too.” She half moans, half whispers, and my eyes automatically search hers for the truth. Finding it, I press myself against her and rock. Then, cursing, I rip off the damned cup and toss it aside.
She giggles. “Problem?”
“None at all.” I rest my cheek on the top of her head, holding her close. “I’m gonna spend every day trying to be worthy of you.”
Her palms slide up to rest over my heart. “You already are. As for Erin, we can talk about it later. There are other things I’d rather be doing now.”
I’m not worthy of her—no one is—but it’s sweet that she believes it, and I’m totally down for her suggestion. My cock stiffens, straining to get to her, and she must feel it because she eases a hand between us and wraps her fingers around it, ripping a groan from me.
“I want you in me,” she murmurs, pumping her hand.