“Yes, Grey!” I shout along with the crowd cheering him on, though his rival’s supporters boo at him. They’ll be booing a lot more when my man starts throwing his hands…and to think I found his passion foolish at first. But here I am, cheering him on and wishing for him to beat up another man. Times really do change.
“We’ve been over the rules. Just have a clean fight and there won’t be any problems,” a dark man wearing black clothes and gloves says into the mic. Grey and the man, Ramirez, are glaring at each other as if the man isn’t there saying they have to fight fair. Such hot-heads. “…touch gloves between rounds, and let’s get started.”
The man, who I presume is the referee, steps back.
A loud whistle rings through the massive arena.
The match begins, and Grey and Ramirez begin circling each other like lions testing the waters. I tense as Ramirez makes the first move, swinging his foot in the air. Grey easily side-steps, even going as far as to push it away. He smirks, seeing Ramirez growl, annoyed at making fun of him for missing. Such an asshole…but he’s my asshole.
Grey makes the second move, throwing his fist in the air. A loud crack whips through the air as it hits Ramirez square in the nose. The crowd goes wild, some people looking shocked at the new guy doing so well so far. But Ramirez’s crowd…they’re pissed.
Ramirez recovers, shaking his head and going after Grey. Grey ducks and sweeps his leg out, making Ramirez trip and stumble to the ground. Grey jumps on top of him, doing a slick maneuver, locking his arms and legs around Ramirez. The commentators and crowd are going crazy. Too much noise, I don’t know how to react.
“If he makes him stay down for fifteen more seconds, Grey wins,” Holly informs me.
“Oh my God, really? Go Grey!” I cheer, and Holly laughs beside me. I blush but keep praising my man.
Ramirez’s face turns red as Grey tightens his hold around his neck. They’re struggling, rocking back and forth. Grey makes a sound I can’t hear over the crowd’s screaming. He’s struggling to keep the writhing man pinned, but he’s doing his best. I can see it the way his face is changing colors.
You’ve got this, Grey, I chant in my head.
Ramirez finally hits Grey in the face using his elbow.
“No!” I shout.
Grey is knocked back, rubbing his eye. Ramirez charges at him, but Grey quickly gets to his feet and bypasses him. He’s still cupping his eye but is forced to remove his hands to swing at Ramirez’s face. He misses, and Ramirez punches him in the gut. He jams Grey into the chain fence and begins beating him in the stomach rapidly.
My heart sinks with each hit.
“Come on, Grey. Come on…” I mutter, tears thickening my voice.
Finally, Grey swings his foot forward, hitting Ramirez in the side. I cringe, rubbing my own ribs. That had to hurt…but my baby’s back! I scream in applause as he swings his fists skillfully, ducking and kicking and swinging and hitting the heck out of Ramirez. Ramirez staggers, obviously growing tired with each hit.
David claps and appraises Grey, shouting things I can’t hear. I can see how proud he is, clapping and smiling like a maniac.
The round ends, a point going to Grey.
Excited and proud, I run through the crowd and am let up to the octagon, flashing the VIP necklace hung around my neck. I rush up the stairs over to David. He’s telling Grey some sort of strategy and smiles when he sees me coming.
“What are you doing up here?” David asks, but he looks like he already knows.
“Yeah, that was just round one,” Grey pants, wiping sweat from his forehead. He looks incredibly bloody and tired, but damn, does he look sexy.
“I know. I just wanted to tell you to keep it up—” He and David chuckle. “And to do this.” I lean forward and kiss him through the fence.
“Come on, Wyler. Save the kisses for later,” the referee says.
Grey pulls back. “I really needed that, princess. Thanks, but I gotta go kick some ass.”
I giggle but nod and peck his lips one last time.
“Let’s go,” the referee says impatiently.
“I’m coming—shit!” Grey pulls back, and I laugh.
“Good luck.” I back away from the fence.
“Trust me, I won’t need it.” He winks, then slips his mouth guard back in and waltzes over to the middle, where Ramirez awaits him, even bloodier and more bruised than him.
Round after round, Grey shows everyone what he is made of. I kiss him and give him little encouraging pep talks between each round. He gets bloodier every time I run up to the octagon. You expected this; he’s fighting with professionals. But no amount of time could have prepared me for this. He’s been so good at what he does, I didn’t think anyone could really make him bleed like this. But I guess he’s met his match. Or at least one of them…
I try not to think about this being his career. He’ll be coming home bloody and weak every time he comes here…but it’s what he’s worked so hard for, so I won’t complain about anything to him. He’s happy, so I am too.
This is the last round, after nearly an hour of anxiety and worry—the time has finally come for this fight to end.
The buzzer rings, and Grey goes for the first punch. The crowd cheers when Ramirez staggers back, blood spraying out of his mouth. I cringe and hold my mouth, rocking back and forth on my heels. I’m standing for the last round, too wracked with nerves to sit down. I watch intently as Ramirez punches Grey in the face. Grey grabs him and throws him onto the cage fence. Throw after throw, Grey strikes him in the face, neck, and stomach.
Ramirez catches Grey’s hand and kicks him in the chin. I gasp and hold my throbbing chest as Grey cries out, going down. Ramirez elbows him in the face as he tackles him, putting him in a choke-hold. David is screaming while Grey struggles and writhes around.
“Come on, Grey! You got this! Come on!” I clap and scream as loud as I can.
He locks eyes with me, and they glaze over for a second before he knees Ramirez in the face. Blood goes everywhere, and I cheer. Holly stands to join me. Grey swings to his feet and spin-kicks Ramirez in his face, followed by a hit to the jaw.
Ramirez hits the ground.
Silence.
One.
Two.
I hold my breath, drowning out the screaming.
…Fifteen!
“Grey Wyler wins the fight!” the suit-man announces, and I lose my mind. The crowd goes wild, surprised that a new member of the UFC could defeat anyone in their first fight. The strobe lights go crazy, flashing all around the hyped arena.
Grey staggers on his feet a little, his hands raised as a metal belt is placed around his waist. He’s panting heavily and blinking like he doesn’t believe he won. Like he thinks this is a dream—well, it is, his dream come true…
I’m on my feet, running to Grey before I can even comprehend it. I push past girls intent on getting to him and past the crowd of people in black.
“Princesa…” he says slowly as I run into his arms.
“Proud.” I kiss his forehead. “So proud of you.”
“I did it, princess. I fucking did it.”
“Yes, you did.” I laugh and wipe away his joyful tears. “And I could not be prouder.”
Chapter Six
Excitement fizzles in the air. After the fight, everything kind of blurs. Ignoring the camera flashing around us, I hugged a weeping Grey. I wiped away his over-joyed tears, barely able to stand upright with all of his emotions blinding me as I stared into his eyes. I could barely stand up because of the emotions building up inside of me. I was so proud, so enthusiastic. I wanted to shower him with love all night long, but interviewers were insistent, so I let him shine in the limelight, which he has worked his damn ass off for.
“Watch out!” a tall, heavily tatted man announces. I duck as he and another fighter raise a cooler filled with beer over my head. They place it on top of the counter, and I literally have to bite my tongue to keep from scolding them and
placing it on the floor. The part of me that is obsessed with cleanliness wishes a coaster could be made the size of the cooler…but I bite my tongue some more and turn away before I start cleaning. I’d start with the floor that’s already being littered with red Solo cups.
I despise house parties.
Especially when it’s being thrown at my house.
After the fight, Grey decided it’d be appropriate to celebrate with close friends. Thing is, his close friends invited their friends, and they invited their friends, and so forth, until the walls are brimming with people. Overflowing. All ecstatic and high energy.
I would normally find a place to sit on the couch, if there weren’t already two couples making out, back-to-back. Since the night definitely calls for celebration, I suck up my hatred for parties and interact in the late-night festivities.
“Bambi—ew, fuck off, Todd!” a disgusted female voice sneers behind me.
I turn around, finding Jaimie pushing some drunk guy away from her. I laugh and wave, getting her attention. Brown eyes wide, she weaves through a couple more guys drunk enough to ignore Julia’s snarls and shoves a covered sheet-cake in my face.
“Let them eat cake!” she shrieks.
“What?” I take the cake from her.
“She thought it was appropriate to bring cake.” Julia wipes off imaginary dust. I glance beside her feet and see the drunk boy who went after Jaimie groaning as he clutches his mid-riff. Ouch, that had to hurt. But he shouldn’t have hit on Jaimie.
“She’s a bit high,” Julia says, looking quite proud, lips pulled up in a smirk as she looks at her girlfriend, who’s giggling at the ceiling.
“On what?” I ask.
“A little bit of Molly,” Julia tells me, shrugging casually, like giving her girlfriend drugs is a normal hobby.
“Why?”
“Sometimes her bi-radar goes a little unhinged when she’s around a lot of guys,” she explains. “She loves me and everything, and I love her right back, but sometimes I can lose my shit if I’m in a room full of sorority girls. As she will lose her shit in a room full of high-testosterone fighters who apparently don’t know what a shirt is.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “Well, let’s get you some cake, hmm?” I poke Jaimie’s chin, and she locks eyes with me before throwing her arms around me.
“You smell like sweat and unicorns,” Jaimie whispers in my ear.
“That’s great. Hey, why don’t I cut you some cake?” I suggest, stumbling over to the counter island.
“Yes, I’d love that!” she screams before pushing some girl with blue-streaked hair off of one of the occupied stools and taking her seat.
“Hey!” she shouts, glaring at us.
“Fuck off, blue-tips,” Julia growls as she steps up.
The girl merely rolls her eyes before stumbling into the crowd, too drunk to fight a very pissed-off Julia. She may seem cold and rude, but when it comes to Jaimie, she becomes the epitome of soft-hearted. I love that about her.
“What are you smiling at?” she snaps, catching me staring at her.
“Oh, nothing.” I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes, pushing some guy holding a beer on the stool next to Jaimie. Despite him being broad and sporting a cut on his cheek, he scurries away, and she smirks and takes the seat, pulling Jaimie’s closer to her. Cutie.
I give Jaimie her slice of cake and step back with a can of beer, watching as people devour the cake like savages. Who would have guessed a room full of fighters and drunk girls would dig into a sheet cake like it was crack?
“Having fun?” a deep voice drawls behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. I knew the moment he appeared behind me.
“I should be the one asking you…” I twirl around and loop my arms around his neck. “Grey…”
He smiles a dazzling smile and picks me up, setting me on the counter. “Only the best time of my fucking life.”
I chuckle, drinking some of the tangy beer. “Gross. How do people drink this?”
“You’re joking.” He scoffs and snags the beer can from my hand, taking a long drink. “This shit is the best. Sweet. Tangy…”
“Disgusting,” I add and stick my tongue out. He pinches it and smirks. “Ow, don’t hurt me.”
“I’m sorry. Let me make it better.” He puts the can down next to me, then his lips are on mine and I’m on cloud ten million. Fuck cloud nine, that’s not enough to describe this kiss. His tongue feels heavy and tastes like cherry vodka and that God-awful beer, but he makes it taste like heaven.
“Oh my fucking…get a goddamn room, won’t you?” Julia complains. An empty beer can hits me in the back, and he and I laugh. “You live here, goddamnit!”
“You’re right, which means I could fuck her right here,” Grey says, eyes darkening with complete mischief.
“Oh no, you won’t.” I jump down onto the floor. He groans. Of course he wouldn’t mind us having sex on display in the middle of a party. Skimming the counter full of liquor, I spot the cherry vodka I tasted on his tongue and show it to him. “Wanna do some shots with me?” I do a little shoulder dance.
He dances and pulls me into his chest, hands gripping my hips. “Could you believe, before me, you were a complete prude?”
“Can you believe, before me, you were a complete asshole? Oh wait, you still are.”
“Fuck you.”
“Maybe later.” I wink at him.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Not this vodka, that’s for sure.” I wave the bottle in his face.
Rolling his eyes with a hidden smile, he takes the bottle and dumps some of its content into two plastic shot cups. I take the one he holds out to me and raise it up to his. “To me being the best fucking ever.”
“To me being able to deal with your ass,” I say instead.
“Oh please, your ass is more than glad you deal with me.” He reaches around and pats my butt, pulling me closer to his chest.
“Take the fucking shot already before I shoot you,” Julia grumbles.
“Go ’head, then we’d have matching scars…” Grey begins to joke but stops. He looks pale as he glances between Julia, who whistles, avoiding his gaze, then back at me, flustered and regretful. “Shit. I didn’t mean it like that, babe…” I press my finger against his lips, shutting him up.
“It’s okay.” I laugh, but he frowns. “Seriously. That’s behind us. We’re in the now, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it. So stop apologizing and let’s celebrate you. The greatest man, lover, friend, and boyfriend I’ve ever known.”
“Let’s.” He nods and taps his cup against mine.
Twenty minutes later, we’re on the dance floor, which, more or less, is just the living room with all of the furniture moved to the side. With those out of the way, it makes the space that much larger. I hadn’t really noticed how massive the place was. And it’s all mine and Grey’s.
Mine and Grey’s.
This place.
I look up into his black eyes, feel every sense focus on his large hands on my hips, and smile. I’m happy right where I am. Under his possessive touch, locked into his intent gaze, the receiver of his all-consuming kisses. Why would I ever want to leave this? Him? Fuck New York. I’d rather be here with him. Anywhere in the world, but with him. Always him.
“I love you. You know that, right?” I whisper, bringing his head down so he can hear me over the loud music.
His smirk brushes against my ear. “Who wouldn’t?”
I push at his shoulder, blushing as he laughs with his eyes shut. I snap a mental picture, hanging it up in a scrapbook of reasons why I love this conceited asshole. You’d be surprised at how many reasons there are and how many are smiles like this.
“Oh, fine, I may love you, like, a lot.” He shrugs and pulls at my lip.
“That’s better.” I smile and tug at his wrist, pulling his hand down. I bring him down further and boost myself on my toes, meeting his lips with mine. Fire crackles down my spine, bu
bbling beneath my skin, setting me ablaze. I cup his neck and tangle my fingers in his thick, curly hair. The music blurs, and it feels like we’re standing in the middle of the world, free of any other people. I focus on how our tongues meld together, how he kisses me with passion, hands softly caressing my skin under my shirt.
“I think we should get out of here,” he pants in my ear after he pulls back.
Before I can reply, a loud “Liv!” whoops behind me, followed by a scared shriek.
I laugh, instantly knowing who the scaredy cat is. “You finally arrived.” I turn around and open my arms. Matthew backs away from a fighter he accidentally bumped into, spilling some of his beer. Running away from the growling man, Matthew quite literally runs into me, bumping Grey and a girl behind his back.
“You didn’t tell me WWE wrestlers would be the theme of the party,” he says, and I laugh before hugging him.
“It’s so nice to see you,” I tell him honestly. The last time I saw him, he looked so pale, so beaten, like a ghost.
“Same, but, like, times a billion,” he mumbles into my hair. I laugh at how light he is now, not as dejected over my laptop screen.
After a couple of seconds of our hugging, Grey clears his voice and pulls me into his chest, giving Matthew a hard, don’t-fuck-with-me glare. “I think that’s enough, don’t you?”
“Grey.” I push at him, and he grips me tighter to his body. I just roll my eyes, and Matthew chuckles, stuffing his hands in his khaki pants. I look behind him. “Did you get Lily to come?” I asked for him to bring her along. He’s the only one who’s been getting through to her. She hasn’t come back to the internship since what happened, and I’ve been getting more worried each time I see her desk chair empty.
His radiant smile plunges, and he shakes his head, blue eyes flickering around sadly. “No, uh, she’s been avoiding me.” He fidgets with his bowtie. “I actually went to her house to check on her, but she was either not home or didn’t want to answer the door.”
“Wonder why.” Grey breathes heavily, rubbing his face. “This is boring, so I’m gonna go smoke something that’ll make this,” he gestures between Matthew and me, “entertaining. Love you. Be back later.” He kisses my lips softly, gives Matthew a warning scowl, then waltzes off. I watch his retreating back before turning my attention to Matthew.
Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6) Page 5
