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I huff, chuckling lightly. “I was.”
“No way.”
“Oh, you’re staring at a proud ex-Navy SEAL, Ty.”
She sits upright, shooting me a look that’s somewhere between surprised and skeptical.
“You’re a pretty public figure; how come I never read or heard about it?”
"It's not something I need everyone to know. There's a public persona and then a private one, and I like keeping things that only a select few get to know."
"Aw," a smile creeps on her face, perhaps in spite of herself. "So, I'm a member of those select few?"
“Seems like you are, doll face.”
“I told you not to call me that. God, you sure know how to ruin a perfectly nice moment,” she rolls her eyes, but the smile goes nowhere. “So, were you any good?”
"I'd like to think so. I gave it my all, you know? The Navy was a big part of my life for a long time. It taught me discipline, courage, and the importance of teamwork. Oh, and it gave me a liking for kicking people’s ass, so getting into MMA was a great, legal way to keep doing that.”
“Well, that’s kind of impressive, not going to lie.”
I wrap my arm around her as she sits back, and much to my surprise, she eases into me, resting her head on my shoulder. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel damned good to have Ty curled up against my side.
The air in the gym is thick with tension as I step into the spotlight and take a seat at the conference table. A crowd of reporters sit in front of me, their cameras ready to capture my every word.
We're announcing the fight, and everyone is eager to hear my side of the story after everything Adam's been posting online, that damned bastard.
I put on my best poker face as the conference begins, and Tate takes the lead, explaining the specifics. It's just background noise for me, like with every other fight. Let him handle that side of the business. But before long, it's my turn to speak, and that's when I give the cameras the bold smirk I know they are all waiting for.
"I just want to set the record straight," I begin, my voice steady. "Adam's a fucking loser. Nothing more, nothing less. He throws trash from his computer screen but backs down when we meet face-to-face. He’s fucking terrified of me, that’s why he keeps hiding. So, fucker, this is for you. I’m going to teach you a lesson when I see you in the cage. I’m going to make sure you have to eat with a fucking straw. When we meet in the ring, you’re going to learn who's the top dog, and that’s a promise.”
Cameras flash, capturing my words and the determined look on my face. The tension is palpable as I continue, addressing Adam's claims and making sure all these people and those at home know Ty's mine. That's part of the show, sure, but it also feels true. I'm starting to feel possessive over her, aching to see that gorgeous face whenever she's not around.
The reporters fire off questions, trying to get a rise out of me, but I keep my cool, deflecting each one with ease. This is part of the game, part of the show. And as long as I stay focused and keep my eye on the prize, I'll come out on top.
By the time I get back to my car and check my phone, I'm shocked to see there are four missed calls, all from Ty. What the hell is going on? She's not the clingy sort, and if she's called me this many times, there's something wrong for sure.
I dial her number, a surge of protectiveness taking hold of my head, my heart.
"Oh, Grayson, thank God you called back."
Her voice lacks the usual playful and assertive tone that I've come to know and love, and that makes my stomach turn. Who the hell upset my girl? My girl. Fuck, I've never called anyone I went out with that before, but it feels good.
"What happened, Ty? Are you alright?”
"I don't know. I think I am just a bit rattled up," she seems to be avoiding telling me what happened, which only strengthens my determination to help her.
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true.”
“No, it’s not. What’s going on, Ty? You can trust me.”
There’s a pause on the other side of the line. “Promise you’re not going to do anything stupid.”
“What happened?” I insist, but Ty’s not caving.
“Promise.”
