Nick darted out his right fist in a cross, connecting with Brody’s temple. Brody’s legs gave out and he dropped to the ground, the crowd letting out a collective gasp. Like a shark scenting blood in the water, Nick pounced without hesitation, but Brody was already surging back to his feet. They grappled and Nick shoved him away, creating enough distance to land another upper cut. Brody fell again, landing on his back. Nick loomed over him, hammering his fists into his face. Brody kicked up, his heel slamming into Nick’s shoulder, and in the millisecond he’d earned himself, he got back to his feet.
Frustration tugged at Nick, but he didn’t let it take hold, knowing he needed to stay focused. Sweat coated his chest and arms, and he could feel his pulse in his ears. Brody landed a jab and cross in quick succession. Pain exploded across Nick’s face as the octagon seemed to tilt, and Nick stepped back, breathing through the pain, trying to bring everything back into focus.
Brody lunged forward, shooting for a take down, but Nick sprawled his legs and shoved his hands down, breaking Brody’s grip easily. Before Brody could move away, Nick landed another jab, further opening up Brody’s cut. He retreated, wiping at the blood pouring down his face. Nick stepped toward him, still feeling wobbly, but knowing he needed to keep pressing forward.
Brody threw another kick and it landed against Nick’s ribs. Sharp, stabbing pain burst across Nick’s chest, but Brody cried out in pain, dropping his leg clumsily.
Rumor has it Brody Hansen is dealing with a knee injury.
The words from that interview weeks earlier echoed through Nick’s mind, and he knew he’d be a fool not to capitalize on it, especially given how the fight was going. Gritting his teeth and pushing the pain aside, Nick charged forward, slamming punches into Brody’s face and body.
Brody defended, but then he took a wild swing. His fist hit Nick’s jaw, and for the second time, Nick’s vision slid away from him momentarily. A sickening wave of nausea rolled through him as he stepped forward, getting his fists back up. But he wasn’t fast enough, and Brody threw another haymaker. It smashed into Nick’s temple, and before Nick could stop himself, he’d slipped to his knees. His body thrummed with pain, nausea, and the foggy heat that came with eating punches.
“Come on, Nick! You got this!” Jules’ voice pierced through everything, and Nick managed to push back to his feet. The crowd roared, their cheers a crescendo matching the pain burning through Nick’s body.
He bent low and slammed Brody into the fence. Nick’s muscles screamed with exhaustion, but he tightened his grip, trying to drag Brody to the ground. Brody smashed his elbow into Nick’s forehead above his right eye, and Nick felt the pressure and then the warm trickle of blood from the gash.
The horn blew and the referee dove between them, sending them back to their corners. Nick practically collapsed onto the stool, sucking in deep breaths as a cutman began to work on his gash while Omar held a bag of ice to his chest, helping to cool him off and slow his racing heart.
“He’s hurt. You need to work that left leg. I want to see kicks. He’s tough, but if you work that leg, he won’t be able to keep going. You hear me?”
Nick nodded, but didn’t say anything, saving his breath for the fight. He rose from the stool, his eyes and mind clear again, the bleeding from his injuries stemmed. He could feel the skin above his eye tightening as it swelled. He turned and glanced out at the crowd, and his gaze found Jules. She was on her feet in the front row, her eyes bright, her hand pressed to her mouth. Their eyes met and she gave him the tiniest nod. Fresh adrenaline soared through him.
The second round started and Nick struck first, landing a kick on Brody’s injured leg, and then another, before throwing his arms up to block Brody’s punches. He landed another kick, and Brody’s legs wobbled. Nick went for a combination, connecting his fists with Brody’s face. Brody stumbled backward, crashing against the fence, and Nick surged forward, connecting with an uppercut, and then another combination. Brody held his arms up, trying to block the punches, but Nick held him at arm’s length and then teed off, landing shot after shot, soaring on adrenaline. Blood dripped from Brody’s face onto the mat, and suddenly the referee was between them, waving Nick off and ending the fight.
Everything inside Nick went still and then exploded in a flash bang of emotion and adrenaline. He dropped to his knees and let out a triumphant cry, his voice lost in the roar of the crowd. He pushed to his feet and ran across the octagon, hoisting himself onto the top of the padded fence, straddling it. When he raised his arms in the air, the arena exploded in a riot of sound, and it didn’t matter that he was bleeding, that his eye was swelling, that his body was hurt and exhausted.
He would remember this moment for the rest of his life.
From his vantage point, he could see Jules jumping up and down and cheering for him as loudly as anyone else in the arena. God, he loved her. And for the first time since walking out on her, he wondered if just maybe there was hope for them.
After all, he was the fucking champion. Nothing was impossible.
24
Jules chewed on her bottom lip as she peeked around the corner again, searching for Nick.
“Do you see him?” Megan asked beside her.
“Nope, not yet.” There was still no sign of him, but the hallway was busy with media personnel moving in and out of the conference room. The air pulsated with energy left over from the excitement of the tournament and a hundred conversations were going at once. Her dad and a couple of fight analysts were inside answering questions about the future of the WFC. The tournament had done exactly what they’d wanted it to do—driven excitement for the sport to an all-time high. The best part was that it would only keep going up. The upcoming fights her dad had just announced were sure to keep the momentum going.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to say?” Megan asked when Jules pulled her head back into the room.
“Not really. I think I’m waiting for inspiration.”
Megan nodded and put her arm around her in a supportive hug. “You’ll know when you see him.”
Nick was due to arrive any minute to talk about his win, but Jules planned to talk to him first. She was tired of letting things come between them—their past, his brother, the nonfraternization clause. It was time to put them first. Everything else could wait.
Especially now that she knew how he felt. Well, she didn’t know know, but in the dressing room before the fight he’d looked at her like he still wanted her. And then after he’d won, when he’d climbed on top of the cage and found her with his eyes . . . her heart had stopped, and for one breathtaking moment, everything had felt right in her world again. The crowd had gone wild when he’d put his hands in the air, but he’d smiled at her. It had felt like her win as much as his.
As long as he still looked at her that way, she knew in her heart there was a way to fix them. She might not know what it was exactly, but they’d figure it out. Because he was hers and she was his, and that’s how it should be.
She looked up at her dad on the stage. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her not waiting until he met with Ashlynn to talk strategy, but Jules didn’t care. This was important.
She flashed Megan a smile. “Thanks for being here.”
Megan smiled and nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
The mood changed in the hallway behind her. People ran down the hall and voices got louder in excitement. She didn’t have to look to know that Nick was approaching.
“Sounds like our champ’s here,” her dad said from his seat on the raised platform in the conference room, his voice coming through the speakers. He grinned like he couldn’t have been happier. She wondered how he really felt about Nick winning, but that was a conversation for another day.
“Wish me luck,” she said to Megan.
“You won’t need it. Like I said, he’s crazy about you. Go get him.”
Jules laughed and rushed through the open double doors to catch a glimpse of him. The guys with him parted, and she saw him with the middleweight championship belt slung over one shoulder. He looked every bit like a man who’d just won the biggest fight of his life. His shoulders were back and a broad smile stretched across his face as he raised his chin and scanned the crowd. Applause broke out as he approached the conference room, and she heard her dad introduce him, but she couldn’t look away from Nick.
He’d showered and was wearing a black button-down shirt and gray pants. His hair was still a little damp and it curled in waves over his collar. Butterfly tape held the gash over his right eye closed, and he had the beginnings of a black eye. His cheekbone was bruised and a bit swollen, but other than that he looked to be in good shape. She hoped he wasn’t in much pain. He was so confident and victorious, pride swelled within her chest.
He finally saw her through the crowd, and she caught her breath at how handsome he was. Something primal in her wanted to go to him, to touch him, to claim him in some way. So she did. No more holding back.
The security guy in front of him saw her coming and raised a hand, but she flashed the badge hanging on a lanyard around her neck. “I need a minute with the champ.”
Nick narrowed his eyes in question, but his smile didn’t waver as he passed his belt to Omar. He brushed past the security guy, and his entourage paused. They were in front of the double doors, and she thought that maybe she should pull him somewhere private, but she couldn’t wait. She practically launched herself into his arms and pulled his head down for a kiss. His lips were as warm and soft as she remembered, and when his arms encircled her it was like coming home.
She pulled back and looked up into his surprised gaze. “I love you, Nick. I didn’t want another second to go by without telling you that. I know we have a lot to work out, but I love you, and I’m proud of you, and I’m sorry.”
He stared at her for a second, but then he smiled and his hands rose to cradle her face, and he kissed her. Nick’s kiss wasn’t gentle and tentative. It was raw and possessive, and the power of it moved through her, weakening her knees so that she grabbed his shoulders to keep herself upright. Just when she was starting to process what was happening, he pulled back. His hand went to her hip to steady her. The room had gone quiet, or maybe the roaring in her ears was drowning out everything else but him.
“I know you need to do this now.” She angled her head toward the conference room, where she had no doubt her dad watched with a mixture of surprise and anger. “Let’s talk afterward. Okay?”
“Okay. Wait for me.” He smiled and caressed her cheek before walking into the room.
Her heart raced and heat prickled over her skin. The voices picked up again as he walked toward the dais, reporters already asking him questions. She spared a glance at her dad, and it looked as if he’d been temporarily rendered speechless. He didn’t seem angry, though, only shocked.
Now that Nick had reached the dais, most of the attention in the room had turned to him. However, a few curious stares still sought her out. Blushing, she found a chair next to Megan in the back corner of the room and did her best to blend in with the wall. She couldn’t take her eyes off Nick as he spoke to the media. He commanded the room like a champion, brushing off questions about their kiss, making jokes where appropriate, and managing to come off humble while acknowledging how decisively he’d won.
The rest of the press conference passed in a blur as she replayed that kiss over and over in her mind and dared to hope for a future with him. He hadn’t pushed her away. He hadn’t told her no. The conference ended with her dad making the announcement about the deal with Mereo. There was a flurry of questions, but he’d purposely saved the information for the end so that he wouldn’t have to answer them now. He’d said it was to keep everyone guessing about the details so they’d write more articles. He’d already had her draw up a draft of a press release he’d send out later in the week before the speculation got out of hand. She still felt uneasy about the deal, but was willing to see how it worked out.
When the cameras turned off and people got up to leave, Megan turned to Jules. “Do you want me to stay?” she asked with a knowing smile.
Jules shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay. Thanks for everything,” she said, giving Megan’s hand a squeeze. Megan sent her a wave over her shoulder, and then Jules made her way to the front of the room where her dad had walked over to talk to Nick. Nick once again handed off his belt to Omar, who left with it, so he and her dad were standing alone.
Oh shit.
Her pulse raced as she pushed her way through the throngs of people who were taking their sweet time leaving the room. She didn’t want her dad to say something rude to Nick about the kiss or, God forbid, her conversation with him about the breakup at breakfast. Finally, she made it to the front in time to hear her dad say, “As long as you fight like you did this weekend, you won’t have to worry about your contract.”
She couldn’t quite make out Nick’s reply, but then her dad said, “We still have a lot to figure out with how to spin everything, but you’ve earned your place here.” Jules reached them then and moved to stand next to Nick, giving her dad a warning glare on the off chance that he was about to ruin his near apology. He inclined his head, then he raised his eyebrow as if asking if that met with her approval. She gave him a quick smile.
Nick said, “I appreciate that. The WFC has a great future and I’d like to be a part of it.”
Her dad nodded, but they were interrupted by someone coming up to ask him to pose for some final photographs in front of the WFC banner. As her dad walked off, Nick grabbed her hand and pulled her around behind the heavy black drapes that hung behind the dais, giving them a bit of privacy from the few remaining journalists.
“Thank you for waiting.” He smiled down at her as she pressed her back against the wall and looked up at him.
“Congratulations,” she said. “It was a great fight.”
He nodded, but his gaze was searching her face as if he was looking for any changes in the days they’d been apart. “Thanks. Listen . . .”
“No, wait.” She grabbed his arms and squeezed gently. “I need to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving in Chicago. I’m sorry for not talking to you when I overheard you and Alex. You’re right. I didn’t know how to let anyone in. For a long time, it was easier not to. But I’ve learned a lot since we met. I’ve learned that I’m stronger with you, with Megan, with my dad . . . with all of you in my life than I am alone. I love you, Nick. I love you so much that I can’t bear to think of a future without you in it.”
He held completely still, his hands dropping to his sides and his shoulders slumping in what looked like relief. Then he groaned as he slipped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. “I love you too, Jules. I love you so damn much.”
She closed her eyes against the tears threatening. Relief made her relax into him. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
“I know. I understand now why you ran before. This . . . us . . . it’s so intense it’s frightening.” He pulled back just enough to look down at her. “But if we’re going to move forward, we have to talk to each other from now on. And we have to trust that our relationship will get us through.”
Her heart stalled over the possibility that they’d have another chance. “And do you? Trust in our relationship?”
“Yeah, Jules. I do. I’m so sorry for making you doubt that.”
In the spirit of being completely open and honest, she said, “I think I never felt that I deserved you.”
“What do you mean?” His gaze met hers.
“Your family is so normal. You’re so normal. I guess I just figured you’d get tired of dealing with my baggage and eventually leave.” She’d realized that wasn’t exactly fair to either of them.
“That doesn’t even make sense, Jules. I lov
e so many things about you.” He lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her cheekbone. “You’re smart, and strong, and you work hard. You make me laugh, and put up with my lame jokes.” His eyes softened. “You were there for me when I needed you most, when I thought I might lose my dad.” He licked his lips, and the light in his eyes shifted. “You’re the most gorgeously sexy woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He dipped his head and kissed her neck, his lips soft and warm against her skin. “And you let me do the most wonderfully dirty things to you.” He pulled back. “You’re it, sweetheart. You’re everything. You’re my everything.”
Her eyes filled up with happy tears, but she refused to cry anymore. “No more secrets. I promise.” Then because she couldn’t stop saying it, she said, “I love you.”
He smiled, his eyes filled with so much happiness that she had to swallow past the ache in her throat. “I love you so much that it fucking terrifies me. I’m so sorry I hurt you, baby.”
He was hers again. He was giving them another chance. She traced her fingers over his cheekbone—the unbruised one—and echoed his words from the night they’d gotten back together back to him. “Don’t be sorry. Just be here, and stay.”
His smile grew, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “There’s an after party at the club here in the casino. Come with me. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
Her stomach flipped at his words, and she nodded. “Yes.”
His mouth closed over hers and it was as if the last days apart had never happened. She opened under him and his tongue dipped into her mouth. Then they couldn’t get close enough. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he pressed his knee between her legs, making her skirt ride up as he pulled her up his thigh. His hand cupped her breast and his thumb teased over her nipple, and suddenly they were both wearing too many clothes. She needed him.
Dirty Boxing Page 25