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Timmins rubbed his sandpapery jaw. The rasp made me hunch my shoulders. He wouldn’t like this request.
“Lay it on me.”
“I’m booking another fight after the Costas bout.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, not blinking.
I swallowed and resisted the urge to protect my balls. “It’s with a woman.”
Now he blinked. Many times, as if he were trying to rid his parched eyeballs of an unexpected irritant. Also known as me. “Boy, are you nucking futs?”
I had to smile at his attempt not to swear. Those attempts usually didn’t last long, but I appreciated the effort. I didn’t even bother. To me, a man’s right to use the word fuck as noun, verb, and adjective was as unalienable as the right to pledge allegiance to the flag.
“Probably.” Feeling daring, I spread my legs and got another bruise on my shin for the trouble. “It gets worse.”
“Doesn’t it always?”
“The woman I’m going to fight…I want her to meet you.”
“For what?”
“Her gym’s decent, but I think you could help her. She’s really good,” I added when he continued to stare at me like I’d grown a third eye. “She knows the full range of martial arts from Muay Thai to Karate. She boxes. Wrestles. She even knows how to fence.” Good enough to nearly cut my heart out, but we didn’t need to discuss that right now.
“Let me get this straight. You’re going to fight a woman.”
“Yes.” Under extreme duress, but yes.
“A woman you want me to train to beat you.”
I nodded. “Essentially. How soon can you fit her in?”
He shook his head like I was patently insane. Since I was, I didn’t take offense. Then he muttered, “have her call me,” and waved me out of his office.
I couldn’t stop the grin as I walked out. That had gone way better than expected. Now I’d just have to hope like hell curiosity prompted her to call.
On the way home, I stopped at a leather shop. The sheepskin-lined gloves were an impulse purchase. Now I just had to figure out a way to get them to Mia without talking to her. Or kissing her.
Or pressing my mouth between her legs, something I couldn’t wait to do.
Maybe I’d better stop at the post office tomorrow. Shipping them was safer all the way around.
Once I was home again, I took a nap before firing up my laptop to do some research on sports medicine and physical therapy. Starting with online courses seemed like my best bet, so I contacted Cornell and had my transcript sent to two potential schools where I could get my basic requirements out of the way. Then I ordered a pizza and fed half the pepperonis to my pup while I watched a couple of action movies on the DVR.
The entire time I kept one eye on the clock. Each minute that passed felt like another lost year of my life.
She would be fine. Fighting was her routine just as it was mine. After a while, it didn’t require thought. You went through the motions and your body took over.
I’d briefly considered going to the match before deciding she didn’t need to see me pacing and fretting like a jittery grandma. And honestly? I didn’t think I could hack it. The first time Cross touched my girl I’d be over the ropes and hauling her out of the cage. Probably by the hair.
Yeah, I had it bad. I was slowly coming to terms with it.
What I couldn’t come to terms with was the possibility of losing her before I’d even had a chance to really step into the ring.
The phone rang at a quarter to eleven, and I grabbed it with tense fingers. Most unsanctioned fights were over by this time, unless they got a late start. I didn’t know if female fights were different. Didn’t want to know. I wanted her out of that life and behind a desk somewhere. Or a counter. Anywhere but where she was now.
Slater’s name on my Caller ID had me stifling a groan. I loved the dude, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear about who he’d banged last and who he wanted to bang next. My headspace had changed so drastically in a week that I wasn’t sure he’d recognize my voice.
“How were the waves?” I asked instead of what I really wanted to say. Let me worry in peace.
