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I’ve watched him transform from a lean caterpillar to a butterfly on steroids. Not only has his body grown huge, but his ego seems to have grown right along with it.
I’m not even sure I know who he is anymore.
Ethan has also grown extremely superstitious, hence me being his pretty lucky charm. I agreed to accompany him to his first fight. Being his best friend, even if I didn’t agree with what he was doing, I wanted to give him my support.
Ethan won that first fight so he insisted I attend his next. Then, when he won the next one, I was expected to be at his third. Somewhere along the way, he convinced me that I should dress a little more like the other girls that hang around the fighters. One thing lead to another and now I’m standing next to him in a pair of short shorts, ankle-breaking heels and a top that’s nothing more than a red bra.
So I can understand the leers and the rude whispers, I get it, I totally do. By the way I’m dressed and according to their caveman logic, I’m practically asking for it.
But I’m so done.
I’ve paid my dues, and this is Ethan’s title shot. I’ve supported him along the way, it should be enough. After this fight, I’m not going to play his lucky charm anymore. It’s silly anyway.
He’s not winning because I’m here with him. He’s winning because he wants to win and because he’s training for it. This superstitious foolishness has gone on for too long. I need to stop enabling it. I’ll continue to support Ethan as a friend but from afar.
“You can go ahead and find your seat, Avery.” Ethan grins down at me, pulling me from my thoughts. “The officials are here. Want to give me a kiss for good luck?”
I blink up at Ethan. Did I hear him right? He wants me to give him a kiss? This is a first. I mean he’s not a bad looking guy, I’m sure any other girl would be happy to kiss him.
Just not this girl.
Even with his head shaved I can look at Ethan and admit that aesthetically he meets all the standards for being hot. He has high cheekbones, soft pink lips and gorgeous baby blue eyes. Honestly, I don’t know why I’ve never looked at him like he’s kissable. Our relationship is strictly platonic, well, at least it had been until now.
Maybe I’m reading too much into this...
But no, his face is coming down to me. Shit, he’s totally coming in for the kiss. I should probably do something.
I panic.
I turn my face and instead of giving Ethan a good luck kiss those soft lips of his brush across my cheek instead.
He pulls back and for a moment his eyes flash. He looks pissed. Then he looks away from me and that dazzling smile of his returns for the crowd.
“Go, Avery,” Ethan hisses.
Well, that leaves no doubt, I totally pissed him off.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I was just…”
Ethan doesn’t let me finish, he quickly cuts me off. “Go,” he says loudly, loudly enough for the guys standing next to him to hear.
He turns away from me and for some reason it hurts.
Why, I wonder as I walk out of the room, do I feel like I’ve done something wrong?
Chase
This is my favorite part right now. The bell is about to ring any second and I get to do my job. I get to do what I am paid a very hefty sum to do. I get to punch someone, and not only is it legal but I am fully encouraged to hurt him as much as possible.
God, I fucking love my job.
“Fight!” Harry yells to us as his hand comes down to signal it’s time for the festivities to begin.
This is when the boys get separated from the men.
I have watched every taped fight Ethan has ever had. He loves to charge in headlong with fists flying. More than likely he does it to throw a fighter off his game and put him on the defense. I've done that myself a time or two. I will stand up against a guy who loves to bang it out or I will grapple a guy down to the mat when he is supposed to be one of the best. I like this style of fighting the most. Ethan has hard hands and has won most of his fights from quick knockouts or submissions. He hasn't had a fight last past the first round.
Ethan punches straight at me with what has to be in his mind knockout punches. He’s swinging for the fences here.
