by Ranae Rose
CHAPTER 9
Noah frowned. “Just a few old exercises. For my shoulder.” He shrugged, and the motion rippled through his muscles, drawing her eye to the now-familiar scarring on his shoulder.
“You mean like physical therapy exercises?”
“Yeah.”
She finally strode the rest of the way into the room, approaching him. “Does it still hurt?” He’d said his shoulder didn’t bother him much anymore, but if that were true, why would he be practicing the exercises he’d apparently been assigned during recovery?
“Not always. When the weather’s shitty, mostly.” He tipped his head toward the window. The blinds were closed, but the patter of rain against glass was audible.
“Do the exercises help?”
“I don’t know. Figure they can’t hurt.”
“Why don’t you let me massage your shoulder? It might help.” Realizing that he was in pain made her long to lend a healing touch, or at least a soothing one.
He abandoned the wall and sank down onto the edge of the bed.
She settled behind him and pressed her hands to the muscled curve of his shoulder. To her chagrin, now that she looked closely, she could see faint pink lines crisscrossing his back, ghostly marks from the last time they’d had sex. “When we have sex…” she began, feeling a hint of heat creep into her system despite the chill the rain had left in her bones, “…am I hurting you with my nails? I could stop. Keep my hands to myself, I mean.”
He groaned, and she feared she’d been right.
“Hell no, I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself.” He swore under his breath, a stronger curse she could barely hear. “This has nothing to do with that. Don’t change a thing when we’re together.”
“Okay.” She began her massage, doing her best to work some warmth into his muscle, surprised at how much stiffness there was. “Did you have a bad day? You feel awfully tense.”
He shook his head. “My day was fine. Sometimes, when the rain won’t let up, I get kinda knotted up. My back and my shoulder especially. Sometimes I even think I can feel the pins holding my bones together.”
“There are pins in there?”
“A few.”
“This must’ve been one nasty injury.”
For a few seconds, he was silent. “Wouldn’t have quit fighting if it hadn’t been.”
“How did it happen, exactly?”
“During a fight. Got slammed down against the mat, onto my shoulder. The joint took all my weight, all the impact. Ended up with a separated shoulder and a broken bone. Had to be surgically repaired. Tried to go back after that, but I ended up fucking the joint up again in a sparring match. Realized then I wouldn’t be fighting professionally anymore.”
Her heart sank for him, mostly because she could hear the fine threads of emotion in his voice, almost but not quite concealed. She could imagine how devastated Paul would be if an injury ended his days in the cage. It must’ve been at least that bad for Noah. She’d seen the photos – seen how much he’d obviously dedicated himself to the sport. “Sorry. That’s rough.”
He shrugged, stiff muscles rising and falling beneath her hands. “It could happen to anyone. You only get one body and if it craps out on you – well, you’ve just gotta look at the other things you can still do. There are always other options, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself at first. I felt sorry for myself for a little while, then I got my act together and realized the injury was an opportunity to pursue another path.”
Still, it wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice. She was glad he’d moved on though – glad he’d found another way to be passionate about the sport. Some people never bounced back when their dreams were crushed. He was strong – smart. “Is this helping?”
A little of the tension seemed to have gone out of his muscles.
“Yeah. Thanks. You know, I’m really getting used to having you around.”
She could just see his jaw, one edge of his mouth curling into a barely-there smile.
“You mean Schubert doesn’t give good massages?”
“No. He uses his claws.”
“Good thing you have a roommate, then.”
“Good thing I have you. No way in hell would I ask an ordinary roommate to give me a massage.”
He hadn’t asked. He probably wouldn’t have ever asked anyone – even her. But that was beside the point, now. It felt good to help, and the view of him sitting there in nothing but a towel was an added bonus.
“Zoe…” The hint of the teasing smile she’d glimpsed was gone.
“What?”
“Did you take an extra shift today to help out your co-worker, or was it because you needed it? I mean, what we’re paying you at Elite East… Is it enough?”
His words shattered the simple peace of helping him with her touch.
Was that what he’d been thinking ever since she’d told him where she’d been that morning – that she’d picked up the extra shift because she needed the money so badly? Abruptly, she recalled the day he’d walked into Sugar Panda and witnessed her getting chewed out by Dennis because she’d frozen instead of bringing herself to participate in the little song routine in front of him.
“I took the shift to help Mina out. That’s all. She’d do the same for me.”
“And you’re happy with your job at Elite East?”
“Yes.” She really was, though now, she felt buried beneath the weight of a question that had been nagging at her for a while: did Noah feel obligated to give her special treatment at work because they were dating? She hated to think that their relationship outside of work might be toxic to the professionalism he had every right to expect when they were in the office.
And why had he asked if the pay was enough – would he be willing to raise it if she told him it wasn’t?
That thought was most embarrassing of all. The pay they’d allotted her was fair. Certainly more than she’d made at Sugar Panda. Never in a million years would she try to manipulate him into raising her pay just because they were sleeping – and living – together.
“I just thought… You seem stressed out lately,” he said. “I figured something’s been bothering you, but you haven’t mentioned whatever it is to me. I thought that if it was about work, you might not feel comfortable bringing it up.”
In truth, he’d hit closer to home than he’d realized. Still, her financial troubles had nothing to do with Elite East, and they weren’t his problem. He’d already helped her out by offering to share his place with her. That was more than she ever would’ve asked for.
“I have been a little stressed out, but it has nothing to do with work. It’s my dad. He has health issues, and it can be … wearing.” She didn’t mention Azalea Hall, the mounting bills or the fact that a week ago, a manager at the facility had called her to speak about the debt her family was in.
She’d explained to the manager that she’d recently started a second job, had promised to pay more, soon. And she would. But that didn’t keep her from feeling like she was living on borrowed time, surviving on the fringes of others’ generosity and understanding. She didn’t like that feeling – it seemed like a precarious position, a paper-thin security net that might disintegrate at any minute.
“I didn’t know,” Noah said. “Is there anything I can do?”
Her heart melted a little, because she knew him well enough to know he really meant it. “No. But thanks.”
He reached over his shoulder, stilling her hand and taking it in his, turning. When he pulled her close against his chest, a little of her stress melted away. She buried the rest, refusing to give voice to it. She wouldn’t burden him with troubles she could never in good conscience allow him to relieve. He was strong, and she would be too.
* * * * *
The night of the opening rounds of the Elite East Championship Tournament was a night Noah had been preparing for for about a year. Considering that, maybe he should’ve felt more at ease on the actual day of. He
’d done all he could. He knew that, but…
Had it been enough? Organizing an event wasn’t exactly the same as preparing to participate in one. A fighter could push his body to its limits, train hard in preparation. Once, that would’ve been his role. Now, there were no physical limits he could run up against like a hard wall. Just endless possibilities, endless opportunities to wonder if he’d taken advantage of them all. Everything rode on this tournament – everything.
If the championship, which stretched over the next few months, was a bust, Elite East would become insolvent. It would be the end of another dream, another something he’d poured all of himself into, in every way he knew how. That knowledge settled into his bones, driving him on and making him wonder if everything he’d done – everything he was – was enough.
He’d met with local media representatives that morning. Some from outside of Pittsburgh, too. And of course, he’d had access to the record of registered fighters for weeks. Things were looking good for the preliminary rounds, on par with what they’d expected – what they’d hoped for. They’d also managed to scrape enough sponsorship from advertisers to fund the venue, insurance and fees associated with tonight’s events.
They were still in the red with some other expenses, but all things considered, it was a good start. If they ended up with a full house and media coverage was good, he fully expected to be able to pick up more advertisers for the next round of fights. Tickets for the next matches would go on pre-sale on the company site the next day. All in all, he should’ve been able to relax as he drove toward the converted warehouse that had been set up for the event.
Instead, he felt restless as he crossed one of the city’s many bridges. There’d been a time before when he’d thought he’d worked hard enough, when he’d been on his way up, only to be sent crashing down – literally and figuratively, his body shattered brutally on the mat, along with the future he’d chosen. He wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking he stood on an unshakable foundation again. Nothing in life was certain, except change.
He just hoped the ground wasn’t about to shift under his feet again. He liked where he was and he’d do everything in his power to keep moving forward. He was resilient, but he was also determined.
As he neared the venue, his nervousness ebbed a little. The others would be there – Jay, Andy, Darrin and Zoe. It wasn’t like he was in this alone. That was one significant difference between this venture and his original career in the MMA industry: this wasn’t just his show, or his dream. Whether he succeeded or failed, he’d do so with the others at his side. It was a nice change.
When he parked behind the building and walked inside, he found the others standing in front of the empty cage. All except Zoe, that was. A tiny shard of disappointment lanced through him, the same feeling he got each time he walked into a room expecting to see her but didn’t.
“Hey man.” Andy stood by the front row seats nearest the door, grinning. “You ready for tonight?”
“Hell yeah. Anyone else here yet?”
“The guys we hired for event security.” Andy tipped his head toward a door in the brick wall, near the back of the building’s main, open space. “I figured they could chill before spectators start arriving. There’s pizza back there if you want some.”
So Zoe was still on her way. “Not hungry.” Eating now would’ve been like eating before a fight – enough to make him puke. “Figure I’ll grab something after.”
Andy shrugged, his grin growing a little wider. “Suit yourself. Guess who else is on the way?”
“Who?”
“Parker.”
“Parker as in Evan Parker? From the brewery?”
“Yeah.”
Noah had been in touch with the guy – the marketing director at a popular semi-local beer brewery – for weeks. Evan hadn’t committed to anything yet, but was on the fence about sponsoring the championship. If he was coming to check out the opening rounds, that was a good sign. And it was Noah’s job to make sure he was impressed – to make sure that when he left, he was convinced he wanted his company’s banner hanging behind the cage during the next bouts.
“Damn. Wish I’d known. I had a new presentation prepared for him.”
“So? Show it to him when he gets here,” Andy said. “You’ll have time. My laptop is out in my trunk if you need to borrow it.”
“I don’t have the presentation with me. It’s on my computer at the office.”
“Dude, you’re still not backing up your files online?”
Noah shook his head. “I just finished putting it together. Didn’t save it anywhere else yet. Hold on – I’ll see if I can get Zoe to swing by and pick it up.” He dialed her number, wondering how close she was. Last time he’d talked to her, she’d seemed excited about the event and had expressed every intention of arriving early.
“Hey, Noah.” She answered on the second ring. “Are you on your way to the venue?”
“I’m already here.”
“Crap. Well, I’m about to head that way. I’m not running too late, am I?”
“You’re fine. Actually, I was hoping you weren’t close yet – I need a favor.”
“What is it?”
He told her about the file and where it was on his computer. “Would you mind stopping by the office and saving it to a flash drive, then bringing it here?”
“I’d be glad to, but I don’t have a key.”
Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. Of course she didn’t. “I’ve got a spare in the drawer below the microwave, in the kitchen. If the apartment is too far out of your way, I can—”
“It’s not that far. I’ll take care of it – don’t worry. I’ll be there with the file as soon as I can.”
“Thanks. Don’t speed or anything – I want you here in one piece more than I want that file.”
“I don’t even think my car’s capable of exceeding the speed limit anymore. I’ll be safe. Bye.”
He glanced toward the door, imagining the moment she’d walk through it. He was looking forward to having her by his side that night. But then, what else was new?
* * * * *
When Zoe approached the converted warehouse that had been transformed for the night’s events, a beefy guy in a black t-shirt stopped her at the door.
“I’m Zoe Ramsey,” she said to the security guy Noah had mentioned hiring for the night. “Elite East’s receptionist?” She reached into her purse, pulled out a flash drive and held it up like a badge. After all, it wasn’t like they’d given her a company ID. “I’ve got an important delivery.”
The man opened his mouth, and she detected the distinct, saucy tang of pizza breath.
“Zoe.” Noah called to her from across the open area, beyond the rows of empty seats.
She waved and held up the flash drive.
The security guy stepped aside, tipping his head in her direction.
“Here’s the file,” she said, pressing the flash drive into Noah’s hand. “I know that took forever – sorry. Is the guy from the brewery here yet?” She hoped she hadn’t taken too long and blown Noah’s chances. The brewery was a potential significant sponsor.
Noah nodded. “Yeah, but you’re fine. I’ve still got time to run through the presentation with him real quick. Thanks.” He took a step in the direction he’d come, then paused. “There’s pizza if you’re hungry.” He tipped his head toward a door located by one corner.
She was hungry. Starving, actually. And pizza was her arch nemesis, as far as food temptations went. Just the smell of it was maddening, especially when she had an empty stomach. Which meant that she couldn’t let herself enter that back room and be tempted.
“Shit.” Noah had barely made it two steps before he halted again. “I forgot – you can’t eat that. Of course. Shit.” He grimaced. “I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, forced to suppress a smile. He looked so genuinely chagrined she couldn’t help it. “I’ll just have something delivered. Go impress that m
arketing director.”
As soon as Noah retreated to the very room that housed the pizza, she sank down into a rental chair and pulled out her phone. Over the past year, she’d put together a vital list of local restaurants that delivered safe gluten-free dishes. In situations like these, the information was invaluable. She dialed one and ordered a dish heavy on rice – she didn’t need a whole pizza to herself, but carbs would definitely help ward off the siren’s call of the cheesy goodness that apparently lurked in the back room.
Her stomach rumbled as she waited in the seating area, not trusting the hired security to let the delivery person enter unharassed. She’d skipped lunch – between everything that had happened, she hadn’t had time to eat. First, she’d worked several hours at Hot Ink, then gone straight to Azalea Hall. She’d planned to make time for a meal afterward, but her dad had been having an unexpectedly good day.
Or rather, a bitter-sweet day. He’d been talking – always a good thing – but he’d also been confused, and had even called Zoe by her mother’s name. She couldn’t have left him like that. Not under any circumstances. So she’d stayed an hour and a half longer than she’d originally planned to, keeping him company until he’d eventually tired and fallen asleep.
Noah had called just as she’d been preparing to leave Azalea Hall, and then she’d rushed to retrieve the file he’d needed. Her nerves were still buzzing, even now. The evening stretched ahead – everything to Noah and Elite East, and everything to Paul.
No matter which way Zoe looked at things, she was nervous as hell. She wasn’t the one fighting, wasn’t the one who’d built Elite East MMA on a foundation of blood, sweat and tears. But she cared for the men who matched those descriptions more than she could put into words, and that made the night meaningful to her, too.
* * * * *
“Smile, Zoe.” Karen grinned from behind her camera as it flashed, bathing Zoe in a starburst of bright white light.
“Oh no.” Karen looked down at the screen. “You blinked. Let’s try another…”
