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“I’m the current Light Heavyweight Champion.”
“Oh?” I feign interest and eye the girls around me. From their smirks I know I won’t get any help from them.
“Do you live around here?” Charlie asks and I answer just by nodding my head.
I’m really not interested, Champion or not, but I don’t want to come off as a bitch. Maybe if I’m boring, he’ll get bored with me…
“Do you…”
The bell rings and I practically jump to my feet. I can’t get away from Charlie fast enough. But then there’s Brett again, his eyes following me as if I’m prey he’s tracking as I strut my stuff with the card.
Who knew being a ring girl would be this hard? Just as I take my seat, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as Charlie leans even closer.
“Do you want to come back to my place when you get off and have a drink?”
Ugh, Mr. Smooth he is not. I turn in my seat, just about to politely decline when suddenly Brett appears between me and Charlie.
“Mine, fuckstick. Go fuck one of your diseased groupies.”
Am I hallucinating? I blink between Charlie and Brett, still not sure if what I’m seeing is real. They seriously look as if they’re about to fight, especially as Charlie stands from his seat and the two glare at each other almost nose to nose.
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Charlie asks.
“You heard me,” Brett growls. “I said she’s mine, fuck off.”
It kind of reminds me of one of those nature programs, like Brett and Charlie are two big gorillas trying to display their dominance. I half expect them to rip off their too tight t-shirts and start pounding on their chests while roaring that they’re king of the jungle.
This can’t be happening, seriously. Brett wouldn’t call me his, he hates my guts. I must have tripped like the clumsy dork that I am and hit my head. I have to be hallucinating or having a weird dream. I’ve been dreaming of Brett ever since we ran into each other.
I reach towards Brett and place my hand against his shoulder. He certainly feels real… solid. The muscles beneath my palm are tense and hard as rock.
“Brett?” I ask softly and he glances back at me. His features were harsh, pulled into a mask of rage but they immediately soften. “What’s going on?”
Is this a publicity stunt? I want to ask but don’t get the chance.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Charlie laughs, drawing Brett’s angry attention back to him. “You can’t take me in the cage so you want to start shit here?”
“I’m not starting shit, fuckstick. I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from my girl.”
“That’s enough, ladies,” a burly bald guy wearing a bright yellow shirt that boldly states Security says as he pushes through the cheering crowd to reach us. “We’re shutting this down.”
The guy just squeezes his massive frame between Brett and Charlie and the two guys, who seem massive in their own right, are forced to take a step back.
Brett snarls over the security guy’s shoulder, seriously looking like he’s about to jump over him and start wailing on Charlie anyway, but I reach out and tug on his hand. He may have been a bit of an asshole towards me at the restaurant but I certainly don’t want to see him get in trouble and fuck his career up. I have no idea what’s going on, whether it’s real or not. But I have the urge to protect Brett, regardless.
Even I know that the fighters get in serious trouble if they’re caught fighting outside the ring.
“Save it for next month,” security guy nods and Brett allows me to pull him back.
“Fuck,” Brett curses and then looks down at me. I frown and my fingers relax around his hand, meaning to let go. He grips me tightly suddenly and begins to tug me down the aisle, towards the exit.
“Where are we going?” I ask struggling to keep up with his pace in my heels. “I’m still on
the clock.”
“I gotta get out of here before I fuck his face up,” Brett says without slowing as he just plows through the crowd. “You can’t go back there.”
“Why not?” I ask, my heart fluttering with panic. I try to pull back but Brett just keeps propelling me forward. “I’m supposed to walk. I’m probably going to get fired.”
