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“Babe? Talk to me.”
She pulls me close, her arms coming suspiciously tight around my waist. I get the feeling I’m being restrained again. “He, umm…” She clears her throat nervously. “I came outside after the fight to take a call for work. I knew you’d all be out in a few minutes, so I stood in plain view of the doors. He saw me and came to ask again. I said no, he said some mean things about you, so I called him something not nice…”
She trails off and sends my stomach flipping with nerves. “Finish it babe, please.” My heart pounds painfully as anxiety washes through me. What happened? What could have happened?
“He crowded me… against the wall. He didn’t touch me,” she rushes out as my body turns rigid. “He just crowded me, he was talking shit about my…” she weighs her words thoughtfully. “My proclivity to have sexual relations with more than one man at a time… and possibly accepting monetary payment for services rendered…” she laughs at herself. “He called me a whore. Next thing, Aiden was here and got him off me, then you were here right after that.”
I unwind her arms from around my waist and push her back a step to scan her body. I’m sick to my stomach; I was so close, yet not close enough when she needed me. “You’re okay? You promise you’re not hurt?”
“I promise. Training sessions with you are way more violent.”
She’s trying to be funny, but my adrenaline won’t let me relax. “Do you want to file a report, press charges, anything like that?”
She shakes her head quickly. “No, he didn’t touch me. Aiden will probably get in more trouble, since hedidhit him. I promise, I’m fine. I just wanna forget it.”
I study her light eyes for a long minute, but she’s begging me to let it go. Reluctantly, I nod and bring her back into my chest. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I love you, baby.”
She relaxes against my chest. “I love you, too.”
After a moment, she steps away and surprises Aiden when she wraps her arms around his waist. “Thanks for your help.”
His eyes are wide, his body rigid as she smilingly rests her face on his broad chest, but when she pulls back, he replaces the ‘what the fuck’ face with a kind smile. “It’s cool, Kitten. I got your back.”
She grins and pats his chest patronizingly. “Alright everyone, show’s over.” She turns to Jack and repeats the hugging process. He’s been standing in silent rage, his body shaking from the adrenaline of the fight, then the added adrenaline of what we walked out to see, but as soon as her arms wrap around him, his world snaps back to place and his dimple digs in as he rests his cheek on her brow. “Now we celebrate Jack’s awesome knockout.” She steps back with a smile. “This is your party, so you choose dinner. Where do you want to go? What do you want to eat?”
I smile in anticipation, because I know the answer before he speaks.
“I want pizza at home, and I want everyone to come over to watch the fights on TV.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.” She turns to the rest of us. “You’ll all come over, yeah?”
Tink nods an enthusiastic yes, and Jon nods only after she nods.
I think my best friend has a crush. For the first time since I met him in elementary school, Jon Hart likes a girl enough to be her friend instead of a fuck buddy. It does my heart good to watch him smile – though of course, they’re all directed at her.
Jimmy pops a dramatic brow. “First, where the hell is my hug, Kitten? We ain’t playing those favorites games around here.” He snags her wrist and yanks her forward until she crashes against his chest. “Two, yes to the pizza. And three.” He releases her and shoves my laughing girl back into my arms. “Where the hell is Izzy? She said she’d be here.”
Izzy is only nineteen years old, much younger than the rest of us, so by the time she could walk and talk around a year old, she was following Jon everywhere he went – or more accurately, Jon took her everywhere he went. She’s been ourlittlesister since day one, though technically, Jimmy’s only barely two years older.
She has a rough time meeting guys, since she has four older brothers and a whole gym of overprotective friends watching over her. But that isn’t a problem I care to fix. We’re not saying she can’t date – though we’re all thinking it – we’re just saying the guys she’s been interested in have been dicks.
“She texted me,” Jon answers on a grumble. “She was here to watch the fight, then had to leave. Quote,‘I have plans tonight.’”
Four grown men make the face a child makes when they suck on a lemon. Her ‘plans’ always suck. Jimmy turns away from our group and spins his keys between his fingers. “Alright, well I’m gonna go get changed. I’ll meet you at the house in a little bit.” He stops and hits Jack on the shoulder. “Awesome fucking fight, kid. I’m proud of you.”
Jack and Kit follow me back to the Rav in silence. It shouldn’t be silent. The kid just won his first ever fight. We should be buzzing on energy, not thinking about that asshole Timms.
I climb in and wait for Kit to settle herself in the passenger seat. Reaching across, I take her hand and bring it to my lap. She’s okay. She’s soft and warm and right here in front of me. So, for the sake of celebrating Jack’s win, I shrug that fucking asshole off and enjoy my love and the chance to celebrate Jack.
I’ll deal with Timms another time.
Turning in my seat, I wait until Jack finishes buckling his seatbelt. Slowly, his distracted eyes come up and freeze on mine. “What?”
“I’m sorry about that shit with Timms, guys. He almost ruined our awesome day, but it’s done now.” I kiss Kit’s knuckles and wait for a smile. “Let’s make a pact to put him out of our minds. Don’t let him ruin this day.” I turn to Jack. “I’m so proud of you, Jack. I’m not sure you understand how good you did. You didn’t just win. You didn’t just win by decision. You knocked him out. Your first ever fight and you got the knockout. That’s not as easy as the movies make it look. So, now we celebrate. Tonight’s your night, nothing else matters, and this is just the first of a million post-fight celebrations in your future. Let’s go home.”
That night, we celebrate with pizza and pay-per-view fights. Jon, Tink, Jim, and Aiden come over to hang out, and even Izzy ended up lounging around with us by nine.
Nine p.m. means she didn’t like the guy; that’s a win for us.
