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Noah only hoped that he got far enough fast enough, before Kristina moved on with someone else.
That night at Full Contact, Noah walked into the gym to find a roomful of people he knew, and who knew him in return. He’d met Mack’s wife and Mo’s mama, and attended Hawk’s wedding. Mack was right—they really were a family. He was privileged to be a part of it.
Hell, he was fucking lucky. Full stop.
Just like always, they worked through the warm-ups, striking pattern exercises, technical training, and grappling matches as usual, and then Noah found himself in the cage with Mo.
The man’s chuckle could sound downright evil. It really could.
“I’m not afraid of you, Moses,” Noah said as they knocked gloves.
“You should be,” Mo said, giving him a wink.
Colby gave the signal, and then they were circling, punching, kicking, looking for the perfect takedown. Mo was bigger, though Noah had put on a good thirty pounds of muscle these past weeks and he was still faster on his feet. By a lot. Which meant Noah need
ed to wear Mo down, way down, before the fight moved to the ground.
Noah attacked with a whole string of fast-paced punching combos, got in a few liver kicks whenever Mo’s bad habit of letting his elbow go loose from his side materialized, and was slowly but surely wearing the big guy down. Mo got in his hits, too, especially on the left side. Noah was still working on compensating for his lack of peripheral vision there.
So much about him was a work in progress.
And Noah was okay with that.
Noah nearly got caught in a clinch against the cage, but he poured on the power and twisted out of it, catching Mo by surprise and taking the man down. Hard. Before Mo regained his wits, Noah got behind him and caught him in a choke hold. Mo fought and twisted and tried to gain leverage. Holding on for everything he was worth, Noah managed to wrap one of his legs around one of Mo’s, further immobilizing him. But the guy wouldn’t stop fighting.
“Tap out, Mo,” Noah gritted out, his muscles straining.
“Fuck. You.” Mo’s voice was raspy from the pressure of the choke.
Noah would’ve laughed if it wouldn’t have stolen some of his strength. Instead, he squeezed tighter. “I can…do this…all day,” he said.
Mo chuffed out something close to a laugh. “Like hell.”
“Admit it…you’re finished,” Noah said, grinding his teeth together against the strain to hold the big guy. It was like wrestling a damn bull.
One moment passed. Then another.
Mo tapped out.
Elation absolutely flooded through Noah’s veins. He let Mo go and sprung to his feet, hands in the air. And that’s when Noah noticed that they had an audience. Most of the club had gathered around their cage, and they were now clapping and cheering.
For Noah.
It was the first time he’d ever beat Moses Griffin. And, for the first time in a long, long time, Noah felt like he was ten fucking feet tall.
He felt good. He felt good enough. Certainly for himself, and maybe even for Kristina.
And given how he’d felt not that many months ago, that was really something.
No, that was everything.
The absolute last thing that Kristina wanted to do was go to a wedding. Any wedding. But especially the wedding of Joshua Cortez.
Because that would mean seeing Noah again. And that would no doubt pick at the very thin scab that had been trying to form over her broken heart.
Kristina hadn’t seen Noah since the night he’d walked out of her apartment. Or, more correctly, since the day she’d asked him to leave. Ten weeks ago. Okay, ten weeks and one day ago, but who was counting?
Still lying in bed, she pulled the covers over her head and wished it was acceptable for a twenty-five-year-old woman to hide from the world that way. But she couldn’t do that to the Cortezes, who had been a surrogate family to her since she’d been a small child. More than that, because of the severity of her father’s mental illness, they’d sometimes been more of a family to her than her own family had the capacity to be.
