“No,” Baker says quickly. “She’s into Luke, remember?”
My shoulders sag a bit, and for a crazy moment, I suddenly wish Baker never knew I had a thing for his brother. It would’ve been nice to get to know Baker without him having that knowledge. Even if I told him I wasn’t sure about how I feel about Luke anymore, and I may have changed my mind on which Finnegan I actually like, he would always worry in the back of his mind that I have feelings for Luke.
“Sometimes I wonder about that,” Milo says. “Every time I see you two together, if I didn’t know better, I would think you’re a couple. Are you trying to make Luke jealous? Because if you are, I think it’s working.” Milo tips his head toward the front of the restaurant where Luke is standing there watching us intently. “The frat sent us over to pick up fifteen pizzas, and he spotted you two before I did.”
When my eyes meet Luke’s, I lift my hand and wave to him. He takes that as an invitation and heads toward us.
“Hey, Sky,” he greets me first, and then turns toward his brother. “Baker.”
“Luke,” Baker responds stiffly.
We all sit in silence for a few moments, before Luke asks, “Sky, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”
I nod. “Sure.”
Milo slides out of the booth to allow me to get up. When I take a step toward Luke, he reaches for my hand and leads me out of the restaurant.
Once we’re outside, the crisp, fall air fills my lungs as I take a nervous breath. I don’t know Luke that well, but he seems tense, like he’s upset.
Once we’re out of earshot of people coming and going from the pizza shop, Luke turns to face me, a frown tugging on his lips. “Should I be worried?”
“About?” I prod.
“You and Baker. I know you said the two of you are friends, but I wonder if he knows that. I told you before he doesn’t have female friends, and the way he looks at you tells me he’s into you. I just need to know that you don’t like him back before I keep pursuing you.”
I stare up at him, and the expression on his face tugs at my heart. He likes me. It’s easy to see. This is exactly what I’ve been wanting for so long, and it feels crazy to entertain wanting anyone else but this beautiful boy before me, but I do. A part of me is still crazy for Luke, but Baker is always on my mind too. I’ve never been in such a predicament, and to be honest, it’s one I never thought I’d ever be in. I don’t know what the right thing to do here is.
So for now, I have to keep the part of me that likes Baker locked away because I know from experience with him, he doesn’t seem like the settling-down type, so a relationship between us is unlikely to happen. I can’t shut Luke down right now and give him the impression I’m not interested because I am.
“I like you, Luke. I have for over a year,” I admit to him easily.
His face lights up. “Yeah? Wow. I wish I would’ve known that. It wouldn’t have taken me so long to ask you out.”
I want to tell him I was around. He just never noticed me before…before I started hanging out with his brother, that is, but I decide not to ruin the moment.
He takes both of my hands in his. “At least we’re here now.”
I bite my lip as I stare into his blue eyes. “Yeah. We are.”
“I know you said you’re going out of town with Baker Saturday, but do you think we can firm up plans to go out the weekend after? I really want to take you out and spend some one-on-one time together to get to know you better.”
He’s right. We do need to get to know each other. There’s not much I know about him that the general population doesn’t know as well. I need to get to know him as a person and not rely on what my imagination has dreamed him up to be.
“I’d like that. A lot, actually.”
His eyes twinkle. “Great. One week from Saturday the frat is throwing an 80s party, would you be my date?” I hesitate for a moment, and there’s a moment of panic on Luke’s face. “Or we can blow off the party and do something else.”
“No. The party sounds great,” I quickly interject. Having people around will be a good idea so things don’t get too carried away on our first date.
“Alright, then, it’s a date.” His smile is genuine, and it causes a little flutter in my stomach.
His smile is quite dazzling.
Luke leans down and places a soft kiss on my cheek, then pulls back to gaze into my eyes. “Let’s get you back inside.”
Taking my hand, he leads me back inside and finds the stack of pizzas he’s been waiting for on the counter. Luke releases my hand. “This is me. I have to get these back to the house before the guys get pissed.”
“No worries,” I tell him. “I’ll see you soon.”
He nods. “I’ll text you.”
I give him one final smile before I head back to the booth where I left Baker and Milo. Baker and Milo seem in deep conversation and don’t notice I’m close enough to hear how Baker really feels about me.
“She doesn’t like me like that, and I don’t like her like that. Hell, she’s outside with Luke right now. That tells me everything I need to know. We’re friends, that’s it, and that’s all we’ll ever be,” Baker says as Milo’s eyes grow wide when they land on me.
“What’s up, Sky?” Milo greats me, alerting Baker to my presence.
“Food didn’t come yet?” I slide into the booth next to Milo, doing my best to pretend what I’ve just heard doesn’t sting a little. But deep down, I figured this is how he really felt about me. Now I have confirmation. I’m making the right decision on agreeing to a date with Luke. Baker and I are friends, and apparently, that’s all we’ll ever be.
17
Sky
It doesn’t take long to load the Mustang’s trunk with Baker’s gym bag, and since I’m a lot shorter than Milo, I offer to allow him to ride shotgun for the trip. Sports cars aren’t exactly known for having a spacious back seat.
“Where exactly are we going again?” I question about an hour into the drive.
“Louisville,” Baker tells me.
“Are all your fights so far away?”
“They have been recently. These kinds of fights don’t have a huge pool of fighters to pick from. Most of the guys are ex-professional athletes of some kind, fighting to earn some money.”
“Are any of them professional fighters?”
“A few. Like the guy I’m fighting tonight. He was an MMA fighter but was barred from the octagon.”
“For what?”
Baker shrugs his large shoulders. “Being too rough, I guess.”
Milo’s head whips toward Baker, and I get the distinct feeling Baker is not being completely truthful, but I don’t push. Pushing Baker for more information than he’s willing to give me freely has never turned out well previously.
After a four-hour drive, we pull into a parking lot in the middle of what appears to be abandoned warehouses of some sort.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” I ask, glancing around at the ghostly empty surroundings. “There’s not another soul around.”
Baker double-checks the GPS on his phone. “It says we’re here.”
“It could be wrong?” Milo chimes in. “There’s no way we’re that early.”
“Let me call…” Before Baker can finish his sentence, a large man in a black suit exits the tall metal building before us and heads toward the Mustang.
When the beefy guy who looks like he could be in the Secret Service steps up to the driver’s window, Baker rolls it down. “Are we in the right place?”
“Depends on who’s asking.” Mr. Suit states as he leans down to look each one of us over one-by-one.
“Baker Finnegan.”
The man nods. “We’ve been expecting you. Hold on one moment.” The man pulls a cell from his pocket and calls someone. “The fighter’s here. Open the doors so he can park.”
Once the command is given, part of the building in front of us folds open like a gate.
“Nice!” Milo
muses. “A hidden garage.”
Baker’s back stiffens a bit after Mr. Suit waves him forward. “Pull in there. We want to keep this lot empty. Eyes are everywhere.”
Baker rolls the window up as he drives ahead. “Milo, stick close to Sky. I’m not sure what’s going on, but wherever we’re heading is feels big time. There’s a reason they’ve offered me eight grand for this fight.”
“Will do, chief,” Milo tells him.
My heart hammers once we’re inside, and I see more security-type men walking around inside. It’s like they’re preparing to protect the president or something, which seems very unnecessary for a scheduled fight. My dad doesn’t even have security like this at his events, and he’s a celebrity with thousands of crazy fans who show up to watch every event he’s involved in.
Baker opens his door and then pushes his seat forward and extends his hand to help me out of the vehicle.
“This is kind of crazy,” I tell him as I step next to him.
“Tell me about it.” His eyes flit around, taking it all in.
“Have your other fights been like this?”
He shakes his head. “Never. But I’ve also never been offered this much money for a fight before. Win or lose, I get money. If I win, I get paid double. I need the money, so I didn’t ask many questions.”
I stare up at him, suddenly feeling very worried something bad might happen to him in there. I want to beg him not to do this, but I know Baker is prideful and won’t back out of this arrangement now. So instead, I simply tell him, “Be careful.”
He stares into my eyes and grins. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ve got this.”
“This way, Baker,” the guy in the suit calls and then nods his head toward a door being guarded by two other guys. “Your friends can go ahead into the arena.”
Baker turns to Milo, who’s walked up beside him. “Take care of her.”
“You got it.” Milo and Baker clap hands. “Go kick some ass out there.”
Baker turns to leave but gives me one last grin over his shoulder. “See you soon.”
When Baker heads through another door, Milo slings his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s go find our seats.”
Stepping through the door, my eyes widen.
Holy shit.
This isn’t some backyard operation. The mini-stadium has raised seating surrounding a squared pit with a concrete floor. The bottom three rows up from the pit are concrete benches, then there are two levels of what almost looks like expensive box seats complete with high-back leather chairs fit for kings.
Milo grabs my hand and ushers me to the front row and then turns to me and grins. “Best seats in the fucking house if you ask me. Who needs those bougie as fuck seats higher up?”
I nod, but don’t speak. This place is more crowded than I expected. When Baker told me he fought in an illegal fight ring, I imagined a small room with less than twenty people watching, but I couldn’t have been further off. This room is packed—not one empty seat in the expensive section to be seen. Close to two hundred people are here, and most of them are wearing suits. Milo and I are severely underdressed in our jeans and T-shirts.
Waitresses busy themselves carrying drinks and lighting cigars for the men in the crowd. They’re scantily clad and all beautiful. Something tells me we’re in a room with a lot of powerful men with money, and I find myself on edge. This feels like something from one of those mobster movies—highly illegal but very well organized.
An electronic board has Baker’s picture with stats about his height, weight, age, and previous status as a college quarterback for Columbus University listed. It also lists the odds of him winning next, like they’re betting on the situation. Twenty to one odds Baker will lose.
The board also shows his opponent, who happens to be an ex-MMA fighter banned from the sport after killing a man in the ring. My entire body grows cold, and my hands turn clammy.
I hope Baker didn’t knowingly agree to get into a ring with a man who’s capable of killing him for money. Surely, he’s not that desperate.
I didn’t come here to watch something like this. I just wanted to see what Baker was up to, but I had no idea what he was into is so freakin’ intense.
“You all right there, Sky?” Milo asks as he inspects my face. “You’re looking a little pale. Baker will be alright. He’s a damn good fighter, so don’t worry too much. A lot of this is just for show. It is a form of entertainment, after all.”
“Who runs all of this?” I don’t like the uneasy feeling that we shouldn’t be here.
He shrugs. “Beats me. All I know is when Baker gets the call to fight, he gets an address. He fights, and win or lose, he gets paid.”
I furrow my brow. “Baker doesn’t know who’s paying him?”
Milo shakes his head. “Not that I know of, but who the hell cares with the amount of money they’re paying him.”
I’m about to open my mouth and tell Milo I’m now convinced Baker is batshit crazy for doing this, but the lights in the place go dim. A spotlight shines down on a man in an expensive-looking dark purple suit with slicked-back blond hair. Every head in the place turns in his direction. The man’s flamboyant appearance seems so out of place mixed in with the rest of these men.
“Welcome, friends! Tonight, I have a special match up to entertain you. I have fresh meat in the form of an ex-collegiate quarterback, who comes from a line of NFL royalty. This young man is fairly new to our circuit, but he has everyone buzzing with interest with his lightning-quick hands and ability to take a punch. I’m personally excited to see him in action and will be betting big for an upset against our reigning champ in our square, Titus. Without further ado, please welcome Baker Finnegan!”
After the announcement of Baker’s name, a loud rap song starts playing with the lyrics saying “I’m a motherfucking beast” and the air in the room immediately changes. A light shines on the corner of the room, and Baker appears, exuding confidence like I’ve never seen before. His head up, his eyes hard, chest up, and a murderous scowl on his face. If I didn’t know how sweet Baker could be, I would be frightened of him right now. He doesn’t look like a man you want to cross.
The blue silky shorts he’s wearing gleams under the lights while he steps into the square, concrete pit in front of us. Beads of sweat and water glisten off his chiseled chest and he looks like a warrior ready for battle. He’s stunning, and I can’t tear my eyes away.
Baker flexes his fingers in and out as his arms hang by his sides. I’m fascinated and scared out of my mind at the same time. It’s an odd combination. On the other hand, Baker seems calm and focused and unfazed by the idea he’s about to fight someone.
The music dies down, and the announcer brings the microphone back to his lips while wearing a cunning grin. “Now for the man you’ve all been waiting to see. He’s a former MMA fighter who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and is an absolute animal in the ring. Please welcome, your champion, Tiiiiiiiitus!”
No one cheers follow the announcement, but instead, the rumble of bass from a rap song pounds through the building. The lights dim, and a spotlight shines in the opposite direction of where Baker came from, revealing a tall black man with a bald head whose body is as solid as a tank. He’s a beast of a man, and knowing this man was banned from the MMA for killing someone in the ring makes him downright scary.
Titus takes his time making his way to the center of the pit, giving the rest of these men in the room the show they came to see. His black, silky shorts catch the light, making them almost shiny and his bare feet look huge.
“Fuck,” Milo says next to me. “He doesn’t look out of shape to me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“When Baker got the call for this fight, Phineas made it seem like Titus was an out-of-shape ex-fighter looking to make some quick money in a fight.”
My brow knits in confusion. “Who’s Phineas?”
Milo points at the man in the purple suite. “The guy
doing the announcing. He runs this fighting pit. Phineas set Baker up to be slaughtered. Baker’s not ready to fight someone on this level yet.”
This information makes my spine stiffen. “I don’t like the sound of that. Is Baker in danger? Shouldn’t we call this off or something?”
The idea of Baker getting seriously hurt causes my gut to twist.
“No way. Baker will kick my ass if I attempt to stop this. He needs this money.”
My lips twist. “Money isn’t worth risking your life for.”
Milo gives me a sad smile. “Try telling Baker that. Ever since he refused any help from his old man, he depends on money from his fights to live on.”
“Gentlemen.” Phineas motions for Baker and Titus to step to the middle of the ring to where he is. “Clean fight, please and mind what the referee says. Oh, and no cheap shots. No one likes those. And above all else, entertain us.” He tips his head to the referee wearing an all-black outfit to take over.
“You heard the man,” the ref says. “Keep it clean. There’s no breaks and any style fighting goes. We fight until someone can’t continue. Now, touch fists, and let’s get it on!”
There’s no bell signaling the fight as the referee steps back, and the two men begin circling one another. I fight the urge to cover my eyes like this is a scary movie. This is way more intense than my father’s matches. This is real and unscripted. Anything can happen, and that’s what frightens me the most.
My heart leaps into my chest as Baker takes the first swing. Titus easily dodges it and lands a hard blow to the left side of Baker’s face. Baker takes a step back, clearly rattled by the contact, and I grab Milo’s hand and squeeze.
Baker regains his footing and attempts the same move again, landing a quick jab to Titus’s face, which doesn’t seem to faze him at all. Titus takes a swing, and Baker dodges the blow this time, but with lightning-quick speed, Titus comes through with a powerful left hook, knocking Baker onto the concrete.
I jump to my feet, and Milo has to hold me back from running out to check on Baker.
Rebellious and Reckless: College Sports Romance Stand-Alone (Campus Hotshots Book 1): Campus Hotshots Page 10
