by Ciz, Alley
“Dad, you know I wouldn’t do that.” Vince defended himself. “Besides…even if I wanted to, I never got the chance.” He explained as he nodded to his sister. “She was able to call out all the moves as I made them, stepping out of the way before I could touch her.” He ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “Apparently I have a tell.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Vic looked at his daughter with pride.
During their meeting, he had mentioned how knowledgeable his daughter was on the sport. Now knowing his daughter and the chick with the submission self-defense moves were the same person, Gage had to believe the statement.
“I don’t think it’s that obvious.” One of her hands went to her hip and he saw that her nails were painted purple. Why was he noticing all these small details? “I’ve just watched him fight all his life, so it’s easier for me to spot than most.” She placed a comforting hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I think it’s easy enough to fix, we just need to take some game tape to review.”
Vic wasn’t kidding when he said her instincts were spot on. Most fighters watched footage of their opponents, but not many reviewed their own. It was a smart idea.
He knew the instant Rocky realized he was standing next to her father. Her silvery gaze ran over his body like a physical caress.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice squeaking a little at the end. Good. He was happy to note she was as unsettled by him as he was by her.
“Raquel, manners,” Vic chided.
He offered what felt like his first genuine smile since stumbling across her using a submission move on a drunk. “No, it’s okay, Vic.” He was quick to reassure his new coach—he didn’t need any unnecessary wedges between him and any of those responsible for his training. “I actually had the honor of meeting Rocky yesterday, but I was unaware she was your daughter.” His eyes tracked back to hers. “Though I gotta say…I’m not surprised by the revelation after witnessing her moves last night.”
Rocky’s teeth bit into the lush pillow of her bottom lip. He wanted to be the one to do the biting.
Bro, what is wrong with you? Get your head in the game.
“Moves?” Vic inquired.
“Oh, yeah.” His smile widened. “When I met her, she had some asshole’s face pinned to a table while threatening to snap his elbow.”
“Raquel?” Vic looked flabbergasted and sent his son an accusing look. “I’m guessing this is your influence?”
Rocky put her head back and sighed. Probably being called Raquel three times in as many minutes was not a good thing.
“No, Dad, it’s not like that. There was this drunk guy at The Ring last night who was harassing Beck and me. After a while, he decided my ass just had to be introduced to his hand. So I showed him the error of his ways.” She shrugged.
He'd admired how she dealt with the situation last night and was equally fascinated with how well she handled herself in front of her father. As each piece of new information about her fell into place like a game of Tetris, he started to understand his magnetic draw.
Vic took a moment to digest the information, then turned to shout toward the front of the gym. “REBECCA DANIELLE, GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!”
The redhead came out from her perch behind the reception desk. “Yeah, Papa Steele?” She approached their group with caution.
Vic relayed the story in an attempt to piece together all the facts.
“Absolutely,” she quickly confirmed. “First the asshat was harassing me and didn’t stop. She even let him slide after he felt her up the first time. But the second time he put his hands on her, she put a stop to it. Honestly…I’m surprised she let him go with as many warnings as she did.”
Vic sighed heavily, using his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger to rub along the ridge of his brow. Gage didn’t envy the guy at all. Aside from his mother, the only female in his life he had to worry about was Beth, and Wyatt really had that handled. “What did Jimmy have to say about your little display?” Vic asked his daughter.
“He comped our bill,” Rocky said.
“He wouldn’t even change his mind when we tried arguing with him about it either,” Becky added.
“I swear, you kids stress me out more than watching my guys fight.” Vic shook his head and the girls laughed at his dramatic flare.
“Anyway.” He turned to Gage. “Even though you’ve already met, this is my daughter, Rocky. Like I explained earlier, she’s the team physical therapist. She’s pretty much certified in anything related to treating athletes.”
“Overachiever,” Vince announced through a fake cough, earning him a backhand to the gut from his sister.
Vic ignored their antics, placing a hand on the redhead’s shoulder with fatherly affection. “And this here is her best friend—and my unofficial daughter—Becky. She manages the gym for me.”
“Nice to officially meet you.”
“Yeah, it was a little crazy last night.” Becky chuckled.
“And this here is my son, Vince.” Vic gestured to his son.
“It’s an honor to meet you.” Vince reached out a hand for him to shake.
“I think honor might be too strong of a word,” Gage said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Plus, I honestly think you’ll be at my level very shortly.”
“How’s the wrist and hand feel?” Vic asked his son, getting back to business.
Vince opened and closed his fist a few times. “Feels great, actually. Rock did her thing to check”—he looked down at his sister—“whatever it is she checks, and deemed it good.”
Vic looked to Rocky for confirmation. “Really, Dad, everything looks great. I’ll check it again at the end of training today, but I think he’s finished healing.”
“Exactly what I want to hear.” Turning to Gage, he cautioned, “Fair warning, if anything doesn’t feel right, she’ll find it and bench you even without you needing to say a thing. So I don’t suggest trying to hide any tweaks or pains.”
He nodded his understanding even as his hip spasmed, as if to jump up and yell you are screwed. No way was he going to be filling Rocky in on his hip injury. If what Vic said was true, she definitely would bench him from training, and he'd worked too hard keeping it to himself to risk that happening.
Layer by layer, stress just continued to pile up. Cutler, his hip, the need to hold on to his title, the move, his growing concern over assimilating into a family-like group of fighters, his unwanted attraction to his new physical therapist. The pressure from it all was starting to make him feel like one of those hoarders that Wyatt told him they had to rescue after getting trapped by the twenty years of newspapers they refused to get rid of. He needed to get back to training and rid himself of all the extra bullshit, focus on his body, his goals.
“Come on.” Vic clapped him on the back. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the motley crew.”
Yet, as his eyes landed on Rocky laughing with her brother, he couldn’t bring himself to throw out what he felt toward her.
Chapter Four
After meeting her favorite fighter randomly the night before, Rocky couldn’t comprehend how he was standing in front of her again. And from the sounds of things, her dad was his new trainer.
Umm, is this real life?
How was it she'd had no idea he was not only shopping around for a new coach, but that her own father was in the running for the job?
The move to The Steele Maker was going to be a major story. She made a mental note to bring Jordan and Skye in on this latest development since they handled all the publicity for the gym and its fighters.
Becky went back to the front desk while her father took Gage around to make introductions. Immediately, she felt her phone vibrate from the side pocket of her leggings.
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA (Becky): OMG is this real life or are we in one of your dreams right now?
ALPHABET SOUP (Rocky): IDK but if this is a dream DO NOT WAKE ME UP!
ALPHABET SOUP: *GIF of sm
ashing an alarm clock*
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: In the immortal words of Michelle Tanner. You got it Dude!
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: *GIF of Michelle Tanner giving a thumbs up*
ALPHABET SOUP: This is why I love you so!! *kissy face emoji*
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Seriously though. You HAVE to go for it…how many people get their celebrity crush put in front of them for the taking?
ALPHABET SOUP: Maybe I will *winky face emoji*
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Looping in the rest of The Coven.
The rest of the girls would definitely have opinions. She may have said in the past that she would make a move on Gage if she ever had the chance, but in her heart of hearts, she knew she wouldn’t. Besides, she'd thought she had a billion in one chance of ever meeting the guy. He was a fighter, so he would never be more than a celebrity crush. Unavailable crushes were safer than dudes in real life.
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: You guys are NEVER going to believe who the newest fighter to join The Steele Maker is
QUEEN OF SMUT (Maddey): Enough with the cliffhanger. I’m on deadline here Beck
PROTEIN PRINCESS (Gemma): Seriously. You are the WORST with this sometimes
MAKES BOYS CRY (Skye): Don’t make me come down there
MOTHER OF DRAGONS (Jordan): Seriously, spit it out before the twins wake up from their current milk comas
MOTHER OF DRAGONS: And Skye, you’re on the West Coast, don’t make idle threats
PROTEIN PRINCESS: Rock, you’re with her. Make her tell us ALREADY
ALPHABET SOUP: *GIF of Mariah Carey dramatically putting on sunglasses saying “No Comment”*
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Pff… It’s about her…she’s not going to say anything. But fine I’ll put you guys out of your misery…
QUEEN OF SMUT: I swear to god Beck, I will sick my editor on you when I miss my deadline because I left my writing chair at Espresso Patronum to strangle you
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Such a flare for dramatics. It’s obvious you live in a world of fiction. Anyway…
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: The newest fighter to be trained here at The Steele Maker…
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Is…
PROTEIN PRINCESS: BECKY!!!!!
QUEEN OF SMUT: BECKY
MAKES BOYS CRY: BECKY
MOTHER OF DRAGONS: REBECCA!!!
QUEEN OF SMUT: Also…am I the only one who’s noticed Rock has been suspiciously quiet through all this
MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Hurry up before I have to parent again…
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Ok ok ok
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: GAGE JAMES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There was a long pause while everyone processed that, followed by a barrage of text messages tripping over each other to be the first to ping through.
PROTEIN PRINCESS: WHAT?!
MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Like the current UFC Heavyweight title holder Gage James?
MAKES BOYS CRY: You mean like this fine hunk of man meat?
MAKES BOYS CRY: *GIF of Gage flexing in only his tiny fighting shorts*
QUEEN OF SMUT: OMG total hero inspiration
QUEEN OF SMUT: Oh shit. I think I saw him at EP with Papa Steele this morning
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Look I know he’s hot. Like melt your panties, take me back to your lair and do whatever you want to me hot. But that is not the most important thing here people
PROTEIN PRINCESS: Because we all know we’ll be here until tomorrow if we wait for Beck to FINALLY get to the point, I’ll make it for her
PROTEIN PRINCESS: Rocky has a huge lady boner for him.
Knowing her cousin Gemma’s revelation would only lead to another torrent of messages from her friends, she switched her phone to silent and got back to work.
She made her rounds amongst the other fighters there for mid-morning sessions, evaluating how they moved, checking to make sure they weren’t trying to work through any unnecessary pain or restrictions. These guys were the core group and most serious of the fighters that trained at The Steele Maker. She loved them like family, but sometimes they let their machismo get in the way of their common sense.
Knowing this, she did frequent check-ins, reducing the chance of them risking further injury when they were too bullheaded to admit pain. Fighters were the worst—she much preferred the hockey and football players she worked with during college.
Fifteen minutes later, she finally felt like she had herself back under control. No more thoughts of a certain too-sexy-for-his-own-good fighter invading her brain.
Then Gage came out of the locker room in his workout gear.
Discreetly checking her chin for drool, she admired the way the loose basketball shorts hung from his narrow hips. Her nipples pebbled against the thin material of her sports bra—dammit, she shouldn't have left her zip up in her office earlier—while her eyes traced the obsidian lines of ink of the octopus tattoo that curled over his entire left shoulder, up his neck, across parts of his back and chest before wrapping down his arm. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on him.
In a professional sense, of course.
Keep telling yourself that, Rock.
A couple of deep inhalations got her hormones under control enough for her to make her way over to where he stood with her father. Part of her job included evaluating each of the fighters, cataloging any past injuries, and making notes in her records of any areas that were cause for concern. Which meant she needed to take Gage back to the treatment room connected to her office for his intake eval.
Her very private office in the back.
Away from prying eyes.
Where she would need him to strip down to his underwear.
Was he a boxers or briefs type of guy? Dammit, Rock, not the point.
Where she would have to put her hands on him.
Alone.
With him.
Half-naked.
Without jumping his bones.
Fuck my life.
It didn’t help that her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing against her leg since Becky informed their friends of this latest development. Even now, Becky was waggling her eyebrows at her from the front desk. Rocky turned away and covertly flipped her off behind her back. She would do her damnedest to ignore the human equivalent of the devil on her shoulder. Becky was personally responsible for them getting into trouble more times than she could count while they were growing up, earning herself the text handle still used today.
“Hey, Dad,” she said when there was a break in their conversation. “I was thinking of doing Gage’s eval today before I have to head out. This way you’ll only have one day where I'm cutting into training hours.”
“Good idea. Well.” He clapped Gage on one of the shoulders she wanted to sink her teeth into. “I’ll leave you in Rock’s capable hands.”
Why the hell did that sound so suggestive?
She sucked in a breath when Gage trained his baby blues on her. Those bad boys were ridiculously bright, seriously something straight out of the Crayola factory.
Gage held a hand out for her to lead the way. She would never admit that she put a little extra sway in her hips as she did so.
All the offices and locker rooms were located opposite the main training area. Both her office and treatment room had doorway access to the hallway, so she pointed to the one leading into the treatment room for Gage, while she entered her office. She needed to grab a shirt to help hide her hard-enough-to-cut-glass nipples.
Her ass brushed against Gage’s groin as she bent over to reach for the yoga jacket that matched her leggings. She heard him suck in a harsh breath at the accidental contact. He must have followed behind her instead of heading to the treatment room like she indicated.
Her own respiration sped up as her mind reminded her of every dirty, fucked on a desk scene she had ever read. Every guy she treated at the gym was attractive, but never once had she had any trouble marshaling her thoughts like she did with Gage.
She was also aware that bent over the way she was, her as
s looked spectacular, thank you very much. She didn’t do squats for nothing.
Her body demanded that she rub against him like a cat in heat, but her brain somehow managed to overrule the impulse. Hell, she worked on her ex-boyfriend without an issue, and they’d seen each other naked.
She chalked it up to the fantasies she'd woven around UFC Champion Gage James over the years. The Gage James standing in her office right now was a fighter and her client and therefore off-limits. Because she did not date fighters. Her entire life had been spent coming in second place to them—she didn’t need to actually feel like she wasn’t the priority to one of them.
She inhaled a deep breath to help clear the lust from her system, only it had the opposite effect thanks to the way it caused her ass to brush against his—is it getting hard?—dick.
You CANNOT fuck him in your office, Rock. Don’t be a cliché.
Luckily, he stepped back, mumbling an apology before she could do anything stupid.
“You sure have a lot of accreditations.” He pointed to the wall of her framed certificates, his statement finally breaking in enough for her to focus on what was important—her job, not his dick.
She was damned proud of her accomplishments. She'd worked her ass off for each one, spending countless hours studying and logging every clinical hour she was offered. Sure, working at The Steele Maker might not have been her dream, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be the best damn physical therapist because of it.
She turned around to face him as she shrugged into the yoga jacket, only this position wasn’t much better. His towering body had her boxed in against her desk, the scent of fresh soap and raw maleness invading her senses.
