by Emilia Finn
I think my heart might come to a complete standstill. Nerves. Adrenaline. Fear of failure. Fear of doing this without Evie.
But I still nod, so Kit pulls me into the hall until we’re met with a wall of cameras. The guys stand at my back and follow us, but Kit stands beside me and takes the brunt of the noise and light.
Questions are fired at us without remorse, but she answers none.
“You worked so hard for this,” she says only for me. “Every single day, you’re in the gym. You sweat onto our mats. You bleed on them. You cried that one time.” My eyes snap across to find her grinning. “It was super bad luck that you got whacked in the jewels by that kettlebell. But you got up again and kept going.”
She loops her arm in mine as though we’re heading out on a date, and not a professional fighting octagon. “You earned this, so now you need to claim it. Don’t fuck this up.”
“Get outta my way!”
Despite the noise, the roaring voices and applause that ring out through this arena that holds fifty thousand people, I still hear her voice. The cameras are toppled like bowling pins, and when the runway is clear, wild, blonde curls fly as Evie sprints toward us.
“Move, idiots!”
Kit escapes the collision zone with a squeak, and Aiden growls at my back, but Evie still launches herself into my arms, so that when she slams against my chest, she knocks the oxygen from my lungs and forces me to stop walking or risk tripping, because her hair blinds me from everything and everyone but her.
“You made it.” I squeeze her so tight that I know she can’t draw a full breath. “Fuck, Evie. You made it.”
“I’m here.” She skips straight past the awkward first sight stuff and places wild kisses on my fevered skin. Her lips press to my neck, my jaw, my cheeks. She holds my face and kisses my forehead, and all the while, her breath races out so fast that it bathes my skin and makes me think she ran from the airport to here. “I’m sorry I was running late. I’m sorry for making you worry.” Bright lights flash relentlessly while we hold up this entire event, and my song is played a second time. “I’m here, and I’ll never be late again. I’m so sorry.”
We’re merely two days out from Christmas, which means it’s freezing out. She wears jeans, thankfully, and long boots that dig into my back. She wears a scarf around her neck that possibly saves my life because it makes it impossible to kiss her back. I want to taste her neck like she tastes mine. I want to return her kisses, and show her that I love her as she loves me. But she’s covered from head to toe with thick clothes that will roast her within minutes of being in here.
“You have no clue how happy I am to be here,” she whispers into my ear. “Like, it’s impossible that I can feel like this. I don’t even like you. You’re the asshole we call Sasquatch.”
“I don’t get it either,” I laugh. Pulling back, I carry her weight and study her sparkling eyes when they finally meet mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Evie. I can’t believe how simply looking at you makes me breathe easier.”
“I get it,” she says softly. “I don’t understand it. But I feel it.” She releases my shoulder and presses her left hand to her heart. “I feel it right up in here. It’s insane, but it’s there. So we’re gonna ride this and see where it goes.”
“Okay–”
“You need to get the hell off that boy, Evelyn.” Aiden literally walks around us and lifts his daughter out of my arms. “Seriously. I’m not coping with this shit.” Instead of restarting our convoy, he pulls her against his chest and presses a long kiss to the top of her head. “You promised the first hug to me. What the fuck is going on in your head that you think you get to break that promise?”
“I’m sorry.” She snuggles in tight and sniffles. “I’m sorry, Biggie. I love you so much.”
“Conner! Let’s go!”
“Come on.”
Kit takes my arm and tries to move us forward, but there’s no way in hell I’m walking away and leaving Evie behind. Even if she is with her dad. I can’t tug her from him – that would be the most disrespectful thing I could do – so I plant my feet and wait them out, and when Evie pulls back and wipes her face, she takes his hand, then she takes mine, and we form a line of bodies that she refuses to release.
We take up the entire width of the hall, and photographers go wild documenting my debut drama, but I won’t release her.
I refuse.
Kit takes a step back and joins Bobby in the line behind me, so as a trio, I continue forward and stop outside the empty octagon several minutes later than I was supposed to.
I’m the new guy, the one with no pro record, which means I’m the first to enter the octagon so my opponent gets more fanfare. But now I’ve thrown the schedule out and probably pissed everyone off. But Evie’s grin as she stands beside me makes it worth it. It makes it completely worth anything, because she’s back, and now she’s mine for two whole weeks.
The front row is filled with faces I know. Oz and Mom sit with megawatt grins. Oz, the crazy idiot, points at Evie, then lifts two thumbs up.
I love that idiot so much.
Mom watches us with a smile, but she has crossed fingers on both hands, and her forearms rest on her folded legs.
She’s crossing everything for luck, so I give her a smile that I hope helps soothe her worry. Nothing will be truly better until my fight is done and I’m okay, but a smile now will hopefully help at least a little.
Mac’s mom sits beside mine, and then Mac is beside her. Katrina is sheet-white with worry, but Mac holds her hand and watches me with passivity. He’s happy for me, but I’m living his dreams. This – what I’m doing today – is the culmination of every plan he’s ever made. It’s how he intended to become great, and how he was going to go down in infamy. Fighting was how he was going to get rich, and how he was going to take care of his mom.
But just when he was so close to getting everything he wanted, his heart gave out, and now he’s back at the starting line.
We made a pact once his surgery was done and he was up again. The four of us would work together and get him back to the circuit if it’s the last thing we do. But Evie is gone, and I’m busy living our dreams for both of us, so the pact that four people made is now down to two. Bean works with him every single day and applies every scrap of information she’s been able to gather about his condition.
She’s doing the work of four people, and with each day that’s passed leading up to today, he’s been pulling away from me. From her. From what he once considered his future.
The next two weeks can’t only be about me and Evie. We need to take it back to the gym. We need to become a group of four again, and we need to reaffirm our promises.
“Ben?” Evie comes around to stand in front of me. “You need to focus. Are you ready?” She reaches up tall and smooths petroleum jelly onto my brow. She’s been gone for months, she’s been completely removed from the fight world, but now she’s back, and twenty seconds in, she takes jobs out of the hands of others and preps me for my fight. “I’ve been watching this guy’s fight videos for weeks. He likes to stand. He has reach, and likes to chop down with his leg.”
I nod and study her eyes. I already know this, but the fact she’s been studying for me makes my heart swell.
“Take him down and make him tap. He’s got a bad ankle, so take him to the canvas and snap that motherfucker.”
I bark out a laugh and pull her in when she finishes with my brow. Her hand is still oily, and I know I get some in her hair as I fold my neck and bury my face in the curls.
“Hey, Evie?”
It’s like our own world when we’re hidden behind her hair. The noise remains, of course, and the lights. But in here, it’s just us.
She places her hands on my shoulders, as though to hold me close. “Yeah?”
“I love you. I’ve loved you like a best friend loves their other half for a long time. But I love you with the other kind of love too.” I grin when her breath comes to a sha
rp stop. “You’re always the brave one. You’re always the one being forced to jump first, so this is me jumping and saving you from the danger.” I press a kiss to her cheek. “I love you. Just thought you deserved to know.”
“Conner! Let’s go.”
I walk away and leave her standing with her mouth dropped wide open.
Up three steps, into the cage, I run a lap around the octagon, and slow to accept my mouthguard when Bobby offers it through the fence.
“Stop being weird with my niece, you little prick! We’re gonna show you the gauntlet when we’re done here. Back at our gym, you get to know what a Kincaid beatdown feels like.”
I flash a wide grin, shrug, and clapping my hands together, I go for another warmup lap.
I’m happy. Like, the real, deep, soul-cleansing kind of happy that I don’t normally know in my life.
My world has been pretty fucking shitty from the outset. It began with a father that tried to murder my mother. He hung her from a chandelier and left her to die, and then, when she was let down by none other than Jimmy Kincaid, she executed the man that gave us nothing but his sperm.
I’ve been conditioned to never truly be happy, and if I am, I know to expect the smackdown that puts me back in my place.
But for right now, for tonight, I bask in my happiness. I love her, she loves me, and for the next little while, I don’t have to resort to talking to her on the phone.
The lights flash for a moment to announce my opponent’s arrival. He’s been here the whole time, obviously, but he wasn’t putting on his show until I was firmly inside the cage and unable to steal his thunder.
Unfortunately for him, Evie is fucking crazy, so when the lights flash again, I find her monkey-climbing the cage and clutching on with white knuckles and a massive smile.
Objectively, we’re being pretty fucking rude with our personal drama during a pro night, but I can’t find it in my heart to tell her to get down. Instead, I meet her on my side of the fence, and, glancing over my shoulder, I meet Aiden Kincaid’s fiery eyes. He’s going to murder me. But if I had to choose between the two who I’m more afraid of, I know my answer.
I tell him sorry with rueful eyes, but then I turn back to his daughter and accept her puckered lips. It’s dry and completely G-rated. But the connection still sends bolts of electricity racing through my veins.
She’s my adrenaline, and she’s the reason I’ll win tonight.
I can’t not win, because she believes in me. She’s my cornerman. And she provides all of the adrenaline I’ll ever need.
“Hey, Ben?” She grins and runs her tongue over her teeth. “I love you too. Kick his ass.”
“I’ve got this.”
I don’t move a muscle as my opponent enters the octagon, and security rush forward to eject Evie from the state. It’s their job to keep the crazies away from the fighters. But what are they supposed to do if the crazy is a Kincaid?
“I’m down!” She slaps their hands away and fixes her shirt when her feet are flat on the ground again. “I’m going.”
“You can’t do that, Miss Kincaid.”
“Yeah, Evie.” I laugh and watch her walk back to her dad. “Sit down and be a good girl.”
She turns back and flips me off with both middle fingers. She’s setting me up for a lifetime of drama. She’s untouchable when it comes to these events. She’s been attending since she was a toddler. She’s been royalty since day one, so she doesn’t get nervous. She doesn’t give a single fuck about what people think. If she has something to say, she’s going to say it, and she’s going to be loud about it.
I guess, in theory, I should be aiming for a quiet partner in life. For my own sanity and health, I need a quiet little mouse that doesn’t want any part of this world.
But is that what I get? Nope. I get a girl that tempts me to square up on a daily basis.
And I can’t bring myself to be sad about it.
“Alright, folks. The day has finally come!” The referee announces with a bellow.
I turn back to find my opponent standing on the other side of the octagon with sweat on his chest and his black mouthguard firmly in place. His head is shaved bald, and he’s not a hell of a lot older than me. He used to be on the fast track to world championship fights, and held an amazing 23-0 winning streak. But then it’s like he got bored with greatness. He stopped caring, and began with the bullshit that Kit speaks of.
In our gym, we’re not known for our clubbing or womanizing. We don’t create that kind of drama. This guy seemed to get the opposite advice. He let his ego get the better of him, he preferred the girls and money more than he enjoyed the training, and slowly, he lost too much.
He’s a good fucking fighter. He’s amazing at what he does, which means I can’t become complacent. But his actions, his partying, are the reasons he’s fighting a debut and not for the belt.
Today is the start of the rest of my life, which means I can’t lose. I literally cannot walk away from this arena without the win, because if I do, it’s time for me to research trade schools and find a new career.
That’s not an option for me, so after the announcer lists our stats and hypes up the crowd, once he steps back, and the buzzer sounds for the beginning of our fight, I sprint straight forward and go to war for my future.
I can’t expect to date and deserve the love of fighter royalty if I can’t even win a fight.
Evie
Of Course He Won
Ben’s fight was being hosted in a city three hours from the small town we all call home. Three hours in the air – not on the road. So after he secured his win with a tap-out in the second round and made the dude cry – because this was supposed to be his comeback – he accepted his comically oversized check, and took photos with the people who wanted photos, then we hopped our late-night flight and came the hell home.
No one wanted to stay away when we knew home was so near. No one wanted to spend Christmas in hotels, when being in our own beds was as simple as a quick flight and a one-hour drive.
The best part of all; Ben’s stepdad traded seats with me, so I got to sit beside Ben the whole way home and pretend to watch movies as they served us orange juice in champagne glasses.
We kissed three months ago on the edge of the hot springs we’ve spent entirely too much time in over the years. It was hurried and clumsy, and because I knew I was going away, it felt like there was a blade hanging over my head demanding it happen then or else.
I don’t regret it. The opposite, actually. I regret not doing it sooner. Which meant running into his arms at his fight, it meant kissing him through the cage. And it meant asking Oz to get the hell out of my seat, so we could spend time together.
Holding hands.
The flight wasn’t long, and Ben’s hand was swelling from his fight, but still, he held on and made my stomach flutter only the way he can. My family were within feet of us, and they’ve mastered the art of staring hard enough for it to be felt, so it’s not like we made things weirder than holding hands, but it wasn’t necessary. I just wanted to be beside him. I needed to be touching him, even if it was just our thighs side by side. The hand-holding was a bonus that I found myself going to bed thinking about and being thankful for.
Now it’s Christmas. The very day we’ve both been counting down to.
“Coffee?”
Ben stops in front of me as I sit on the couch in Uncle Bobby’s house, while the smaller kids open their gifts. At seventeen, I’m the oldest, but there are toddlers in this estate too, so the gifts are given out to all ages, from me to them, but I’ve yet to open a single present.
I’ve got what I wanted. I’m home, and Ben is right here beside me.
“Thank you.” I accept the mug he offers, and sit back on the couch to inhale the heavenly scent of caffeine.
Everyone who knows me knows I have an unhealthy relationship with coffee. I don’t consider it a problem, and there’s not a person who lives here that can bitch at me about it, consi
dering my addiction came from somewhere, and it began when I was small.
“This seat taken?”
I glance down to the empty space beside me, then up to Ben. “Absolutely.” I scoot an inch to the right and pat the cushion. “I’ve been saving it for you.”
His lips pull up into his handsome smile and make my heart jump. He’s been my best friend since forever, which means I’ve seen that smile a million times before. But now I see it differently. Because, hurried or not, I’ve kissed him twice, and I intend to kiss him a hell of a lot more between now and the moment I’m forced onto my plane back to school.
I enjoy the way he sits so close that our thighs touch from hip to knee. He doesn’t throw his arm over my shoulder, nor does he press a kiss to the side of my face, though I feel like he wants to do both.
We’re both so new to this, so weirdly inexperienced, and we have the added bonus of dozens of eyes following our every move. But the things we’ve done – excluding kissing – are things we’ve done in front of them for years. Holding hands, sitting close, whispering our secrets. None of this is new to them, so I don’t change my behavior just because our friendship status has changed.
Ben and I might have been robbed of the last three months together, but in exchange, we got three months of twice-daily phone calls, and that’s special in its own way. Most of the couples at our high school rush into things and drape themselves all over each other in public places simply because it’s what the cool kids are doing.
But that’s not us. We’ve had the perfect chance to set aside our physical thoughts and connect intellectually. To connect with words and have no way to communicate but with our every thought.
I might secretly hate my mom a little for sending me away, but my relationship has been forged in the fire because of it. Years of friendship, and now a compulsory communication, without the physical stuff muddying our waters. What Ben and I have, what is only just beginning, has been built on strong foundations.
