by Riley Ashby
I spoke through my resurging tears, knowing we only had seconds left. “How do you know I’m going to talk to him?”
“Because I know you.” The affection in his voice sent me crying again.
“I love you, Aaron, so much.”
“I love you too, Tor. Take care. Say hi to Jamie for me.”
I didn’t know how long I cried. How much water did the human body possibly contain, that I could shed this many tears? Between the sobbing any the alcohol, my head throbbed. My mouth was dry as dust. My throat was raw. But through it all, I couldn’t stop thinking of Jamie, trying to put my life right. So I could live again. So I could let him in.
Fuck it.
I didn’t want to be the person living alone while everyone found their love. I never needed anyone to make me whole, but damn if I didn’t like hanging around him. The breakfasts he made me every morning when I stayed over, whether a full meal or a quick protein shake. How easily he had slipped into driving me around town when my car was stolen. And how he’d gone out of his way to help me find a new job, find a new identity besides always protecting someone else. Allowing me to open up by giving me the space to be cautious. Drawing his sword to defend me at every turn, even for something as simple as a phone call.
I downed one last bottle from the mini bar, ripped open my door, and ran downstairs.
***
The meathead guarding the door was on my last nerve.
“Sorry, you can’t go in.”
“I was in there literally two hours ago. Where’s the guy who was here before?”
“There was no guy here before. I’ve been here all night.”
It took everything inside me not to scream in this guy’s face. The man who let me in with Jamie earlier had to be around here somewhere.
“Look, can you find Jamie Kemp and tell him Tori wants to talk to him? He’ll let me in.”
He shook his head without the least bit of remorse. “Sorry. I gotta stay here.”
“Then what the fuck is that earpiece for?”
He glared at me. “Calling security to remove desperate fangirls.”
Murder. Literal murder. Arrest me now.
“Wait, you’re Tori? Tori Ryder?” A smaller man in a suit approached us. “I’m Mr. Kemp’s assistant tonight. Please come with me.”
I stuck my tongue out at the big guy as we walked down the tunnel. I started to turn left to the room we’d been in earlier, but the assistant tapped my shoulder and pointed straight ahead. “He’s ready to go out.”
We saw each other at the same time, when his head turned from the view of the area down the tunnel, to look for me. Because even with how I’d left things, he’d hoped I would come. My heart cracked a little. Why had I drunk so much alcohol before coming down here?
Before I could change my mind and turn around, he ran back down the hall to meet me. We stood in front of each other with the sounds of the crowd and flashing lights just beyond the entrance to the arena.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He scratched at his ear with one gloved hand. “I didn’t mean to encroach on your privacy. All I could think was that I had a chance to give you back your brother.”
I reached for him. “You did the right thing.”
He took my hand. “I’m glad you’re here. Because honestly, I’m about to shit my pants.”
I barked out a laugh that turned into a sob, and he pulled me in close. “Cheer for me,” he whispered.
My mind flashed back to the fight at the gym, how he’d let his guard down for a moment when I gasped. “I’ll distract you.”
“You’ll give me strength.”
He kissed me as they announced his name, and then he was pulled from my arms, walking to the octagon as “DNA.” by Kendrick Lamar blasted at full volume. A hand on the small of my back pushed me forward, and then I was following along with Alonso and their trainer and the assistant who’d made sure I could be here into the mad throng of cheering, drunk fans ready for more blood. I stood stock-still as the final checks were done on his safety gear, and then we were separated. Jamie didn’t look at me again until he climbed into the octagon, winking as he shoved his mouth guard in place.
I sat next to Sophie as his challenger was announced. She kept her eyes fixed on Jamie, her program already twisted and torn to shreds with nerves, but she reached to squeeze my hand. I squeezed back.
The fight began.
The world dropped away.
I was aware of the cheering of the crowd, the ref rattling off the rules, the snapping of cameras surrounding the octagon. But it felt like background noise in a movie. There, but not.
Tori was behind me. I imagined I could feel her eyes burning holes in my back between my shoulder blades. No letting myself get distracted today. She’d caught me off guard when we first started dating—the depth of feeling I had for her, and the way I desired her near me all the time. Today I’d tasted what it would be like if she walked away, then the relief of turning around and seeing her come back.
Whatever awaited us after tonight, I would deal with it then. But for now, she was here.
Jimenez and I tapped fists. Backed away. We began.
I jumped the moment the clock started, as we’d discussed. Being the less experienced challenger, I needed to be the one to set the pace of this fight as much as I could. Most people were already planning on me getting my ass beat, so my best shot at saving face would come from getting in some early shots, and hopefully getting lucky with a few ringers.
Jimenez was ready for me. In a second, I found myself flat on my back. This was where I excelled; unfortunately, it was his strongest area as well. We grappled on the ground, each of us unable to get a hold of the other for very long before the ref was pulling us apart and directing us to opposite sides of the octagon. Too boring a fight, and the crowd gets angry.
We circled each other for a moment, trying to figure out our next move. If I could get under him the right way, I could pull him into a kneebar easy. But he was fast as fuck, and I would be hard to catch him off guard.
And then he was rushing me from across the octagon, and I barely had time to throw my hands up before he was pummeling me. My face was protected, so he went for my stomach, and I lost my breath completely. The chains of the fence around our mat hit my back, and I had nowhere to go, no farther way to back up. Just when I thought I was done for, and my first fight was about to end in a TKO, the ref blew his whistle and Jimenez backed off. I sucked in deep breaths, but my stomach was cramping so hard I couldn’t stand straight. One eye stung.
Someone grabbed me and guided me over to my corner and a stool, and I winced at styptic being pushed against my forehead. I must have gotten cut.
“Get him back down to the ground,” Coach was saying. “That’s where you’ll beat him. And watch out for that barrage next time. Don’t duck and cover right away; try to send it back at him.”
I groaned as he tilted back my head and poured water into my mouth. It tasted like copper.
“Keep going, Kemp. Two more rounds. That’s all.”
Yeah. That’s all.
Jimenez hung back at first as we met in the center again, and I went for the takedown, only to have the ref pull us apart again a minute later. Damn, he was strong. My legs were jelly, and my face was definitely bleeding again. Jimenez didn’t look like he had a mark on him. Instead of waiting for another attack, I approached him first with a flurry of punches and landed a few before he pushed me back, and I was on the defensive again. But when the second round ended, his eye was bruised, and he snarled at me as we passed each other to our corners.
More styptic. More water. I felt like I was drowning. Twisting my neck, I looked over my shoulder to see Tori leaning over the barrier separating the audience from the octagon. Her face was red from screaming as she pointed at me and yelled. None of the words reached my ears, but her message was clear.
Get your shit together.
I turned back to Coach and opened my mo
uth for more water as the break counted down. My last chance. This was it.
My brain had no function left for coherent thoughts. I was intent only on the next five minutes.
Shoot straight for the takedown.
Grapple for control.
Flip him over.
And then I had it, the knee bar in position, and I was ready to win …
The buzzer rang.
The fight was over.
I dropped Jimenez and fell flat on my back, gasping for breath, ready to pass out, but Coach was pulling me to my feet and slapping me on the back as if I had won. They pulled us to the center of the octagon, and the ref grabbed my left wrist while holding Jimenez on the other side.
They announced the score.
The ref dropped my wrist, holding Jimenez’s high. It was to be expected. I didn’t even have the energy to be upset. I was so, so fucking tired. I lifted my head to look for my friends. I saw Castel and Vail, Ellery and Sophie all on their feet cheering me, but no Tori. No Tori, because she was leaping over the barrier, pushing past the security that clearly didn’t know what to do with her. She scaled the chain-link wall of the octagon and jumped from the top, landing on her feet like a cat, and flew into my arms as I sat back onto a stool with Coach’s hand guiding me down.
“You were amazing.” She had to scream in my ear, but it sounded like a whisper.
“I lost.”
“You were amazing,” she repeated as she pulled back to look at my face, grimacing at the cut above my eyebrow. “You’re bleeding again. Where’s the stick?” She snapped her fingers, expecting an instant response, and Alonso slapped one into her hand. She pushed it into the wound and kissed me to take away the sting.
“My lip is cut too,” I muttered against her mouth.
“Don’t tell me you’re turned off by a little blood.” She helped me to my feet to pull me out of the octagon to make way for the next fighters, only letting me pause long enough to shake hands with Jimenez. He leaned in as close as Josie would let him get.
“Good work today, Kemp.” He nodded at me solemnly. “Keep working. You’ve got it.”
Tori hustled me back the way I’d come in, back to the room where I’d warmed up. I collapsed onto the couch. But there was no chance to rest; a doctor was in front of me in an instant, checking my hands and ankles.
“You didn’t seem to be limping. Does anything hurt?”
I laughed with a wince. “Everything fucking hurts.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. You held up pretty well.” He tugged on my fingers and rolled my shoulder around the socket, checking for any hitches. It hurt like hell, but apparently, nothing was too out of whack. Until he touched my ribs.
“Jesus!” I nearly jumped off the couch, hindered only by the pain radiating throughout my entire body.
“There it is,” he said with a bit of satisfaction. “This rib is definitely out of place. You’ll be okay tonight, but you should get it checked out in the morning.”
“Are you sure it’s only one?” Tori had been next to him this entire time, and now she crouched to look closer where he indicated. She frowned and bit her lip. “That’s a lot of bruising.”
“It definitely could be multiple. But his lungs sound good, so I don’t think there was any puncture. They probably just got shifted a little.”
He checked my head for what felt like forever. The wound over my eye was a throbbing volcano, and every touch set it off anew. I guessed I’d lost most of my blood through that cut. He poked at all my toes next, finding two broken.
“You held yourself together well out there,” he said as he wrapped them to keep them in place. “I’ve seen other guys come out of fights with Jimenez unable to speak coherently. You’ll be fine. Make sure to get those ribs checked out.” He turned to Tori. “I don’t think he has a concussion, but watch him over the next few days to be safe. He might still be a little rocked.” Clapping me gently on the shoulder as he stood, he took leave of us. “Relax tonight, buddy. You earned it.”
“I’ll sleep here,” I muttered, listing to the side as the door closed. My lungs finally could catch a bit of breath; my heart seemed to beat at a semi-normal rate. The last of the adrenaline was draining quickly, and I was ready to pass out.
Tori had no such plans for me. “No, you’ll shower. Come on, let’s get you clean.” Three pairs of hands helped undress me, sending tape and hand wrap and trunks falling to the floor, but it was only her who led me to the shower and turned on the water. Blessedly cool, not the way she liked it. I hissed as the water hit my open wounds and pressed on bruises all over my body. I leaned against the wall while she washed me meticulously, cleaning away every last trace of the other man’s blood from my body. She dried me with a towel that felt like sandpaper, but for once, her hands were light against my skin. By then, I had regained a little bit of my senses.
“I can dress myself,” I said finally as she rubbed down my short hair.
“Let me,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked up at me, and I fell even harder. How did she always manage to do this? Raging one moment and so caring the next. I wasn’t sure what had happened to make her decide to come back, but I was eternally grateful that she had. I needed her.
The world swam before my eyes as I leaned down to meet her lips. “Whatever you want.”
Back in normal clothes, I re-entered the main room to find a crowd had gathered. The Kings, Sophie, and Castel all cheered for me along with a handful of other guys from the gym. I started as a loud pop echoed through the room; someone had brought a bottle of champagne.
“You guys are all in the wrong room,” I stammered. “I lost.”
“Did you even bother to look at Jimenez?” Alonso was grinning ear to ear. “His face is mincemeat. And he was definitely limping. He might have won, but he had to beat you for it. A few more seconds and he would have tapped out.”
Coach clapped a hand on my shoulder so hard my legs nearly gave out. “You’re an amateur fighter who went up against a well-known name and held your ground for three full rounds. You held him off, Jamie. People are going to remember that.”
My knees were shaking, Tori grabbed my hand and pulled me to a chair. “You’re Rocky,” she murmured in my ear.
“That makes you Adrian,” I replied.
“Role play?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me. I had to laugh.
“There’s the smile.” Sophie pushed a glass of champagne into my hand. “Drink up, fighter. There are quite a few people out there waiting to talk to you.”
“Shit. I don’t have an agent.”
“Yes, you do.” Ellery rolled his eyes. “You were dragging your feet, so I hired one for you. He’s fielding all the offers right now. You’re going to walk out of here a much richer man, Jamie Kemp. You’re on your way.”
“Ellery …” I held out my hand, and he took it in a firm handshake. “Thank you. For taking a chance on me.” For helping out even though I was in love with your pregnant girlfriend. He nodded and smiled lightly before letting me go and wrapping an arm around Sophie. When I extended my arm, Tori slipped against me. The only person who belonged there.
“Drink that,” she said, tilting the glass of champagne toward me. “Then you need to eat.”
“Can I have a cupcake?”
As if by magic, she held one in front of me. White cake adorned with pink and blue frosting swirled together, topped with sprinkles.
“I got the girliest one I could find.”
“Should you be assigning gender roles to cake?”
She huffed and pulled it back. “Do you want it or not?”
I downed the champagne and snatched the cupcake, licking off the icing. “Vanilla cake? Really?”
Tori blushed. “No sex jokes in front of my boss, please.”
“Oh, God. I need to drink more.” Ellery refilled my champagne glass, then his. “It’ll dull the pain.”
Both of us could have slept well through the next day, but I set the alarm to wake
us up after ten hours so we could eat. I had every item on the breakfast menu delivered to the room. We sat in his bed and ate every last bite before falling back against the pillows.
“What now?” I asked.
He stared at the ceiling. I rolled to my side, placed my hand gingerly on his chest and kissed his bruised shoulder. He rolled his head to look at me.
“Dismantle the patriarchy?”
I snorted. “Well, that’s every day. What do we do after that?”
He grabbed my hips and pulled me on top of him, the top sheet falling away from my body. The cool air conditioning hit my skin, causing every hair on my arms and the back of my neck to stand on end. I was wearing nothing but a T-shirt I’d bought from the merchandiser as we left the night before, wanting to commemorate the moment.
“You could ride my dick to start.”
“That does not feel conducive to the fall of man.”
“It’s the fall of this man.” He lifted me off him, and I had to catch myself with my hands on either side of his head. “Nothing makes my knees weak like your pussy does.”
“How long have you been practicing those lines?”
“Get on it, Tori. Fuck.”
I smiled and reached between us, but it was too hard for him to push into me without any foreplay. “You need to get me wet first, champ.”
He threw me onto my back but moved slower to climb over me. Every movement made him wince.
“Okay, God, you’re making me feel bad.” He sighed with relief as I pushed him back onto the bed. I leaned over the side of the bed to rustle through his bag. “Here it is.” I squirted a generous helping of lube onto my palm and rubbed him up and down slowly, spreading the slippery liquid all over his length. He sighed and sank deeper into the bed.
“Your hand is nice, but your pussy is even better.”
“So impatient.” I crawled over him, taking my time, but it was too easy to slide onto him now. I almost fell, but he caught me around my waist and held me steady.
“So good. So warm.” He pulled me down so we were lying chest to chest. “Thank you for being there for me, Tori.” As he spoke, he thrust his hips up and into me, stroking my G-spot. “Thank you for coming back.”
