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Starting his drink at the espresso machine, Roxie said, “Sheila, it’s not a gym like an athletic club. It’s a training facility. Cade’s one of the coaches.” She looked back at him. “Right?”
He hesitated. “Sure. In a nutshell, yeah. We do offer classes and—”
“What do you teach? What’s your specialty?” Sheila interrupted, her voice going extra breathy on the wordspecialty.
Roxie rolled her eyes when Sheila flipped her hair over her shoulder again. It was painful to watch. But Cade, bless him, seemed unfazed by the whole affair. He was probably used to women falling all over him. And then some.
“I’m the head MMA coach at the gym. We do offer some introductory classes to the public—boxing, MMA, jiu-jitsu, that kind of thing—if you’re interested. I don’t teach all the classes, but me and the other coaches rotate.”
“Oh my,” Sheila said with a gasp. “There’s more of you?”
Cade grinned, and the move took him from smoking hot to tear-off-your-panties hot. “There’s a handful of us. Like I said, I’m MMA. My brother is the lead for boxing, and we have a few other coaches.”
Roxie skirted past Sheila to hand Cade his coffee. “Here you go. Anything else? Pie? Scone?”
“I’ll take something,” Sheila said, fanning herself.
“Nah, I’m good.” Cade scanned the customers at the tables, then returned his attention to Roxie. “I was hoping to run into Joe. We talked briefly at the party last night. He mentioned he’d be stopping by the gym, but I forgot to tell him we redid the entrance. When you see him, can you let him know that we’re the third turn now and not the first?”
“Um. Sure.” Roxie frowned. “Do you want his number so you can text him or something?”
Cade shook his head and turned to go. “Nah, just let him know when you see him.”
“Wait,” Roxie called. “I’m here until closing, so you’ll probably see him before I do.”
Chuckling, he stepped back toward the counter. “Trust me, Roxie,” he said, voice low. “I was at the party last night. He’s definitely going to be seeing you before he sees me.” With a wave to Sheila, because he was a nice guy like that, Cade left out the front door.
Roxie’s frown deepened. Seriously? What was with all the cryptic talk today? Weren’t guys supposed to be the blunter of the genders? And did this mean that Joe had mentioned her to Cade last night?
Great. Now Joe was back in her brain.
She sighed. Let the overanalyzing commence.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
The odor of sweat, testosterone, and industrial-strength cleaner filled Joe’s nose. Rancid blared from the overhead speakers, and the constant pop-pop-what-what-whap of fighters hitting pads was as steady as a heartbeat. The sounds and smells of the gym were familiar and soothing. They settled something inside him. Dissipated the antsy feeling that had been gnawing at his gut.
When Joe had swung by Comfort Food earlier, Roxie had mentioned that Cade had come around looking for him. So, instead of staring at the walls and contemplating his future, Joe had hopped in his car to go pay his old friend a visit.
He let out a low whistle as he scanned the facility. Three boxing rings. Four MMA cages. Loads of mats, bags, cardio machines, weights, and equipment. It truly was a world-class gym. “Holy shit, man. This place is huge now.”
Like a lord surveying his land, Cade put his hands on his hips and looked around. The pride he held for his gym practically radiated from his pores. “Yeah. We went from twenty-five hundred square feet up to twenty-five thousand—and that’s just training space. It doesn’t include the locker rooms, sauna, office, and dorm.”
Joe’s jaw dropped. “You have adorm?”
“In case you missed it, bro, we’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The island has some B&Bs, but the only real lodging option is the Pacific View Resort, and that’s way too expensive for the fighters. Training camps run anywhere from eight to sixteen weeks. Besides, a hotel isn’t very realistic since the guys need kitchen access to prep their food if they plan on making weight.”
“Your fighters could stay with you,” Joe suggested with a smirk. “You’ve got a big place.”
“Ohhellno. I see these bastards ten-plus hours a day. That’s plenty. More than plenty.” Cade shuddered. “Hence why we decided to build a dorm. Eight rooms with two fighters in each, a couple living areas with TVs and gaming systems, and a big-ass kitchen. Nothing fancy. It’s great for training because there’s not a lot of distractions out here. The guys can really focus.”
Joe looked out at the gym and couldn’t help but be impressed. He noticed a wall of framed photos and upon taking a look, the display showed Cade and his coaches with their fighters, many of whom were highly decorated in their various disciplines, along with a handful of Olympic medalists. He looked over at his friend and shook his head. It was hard to reconcile the guy who he’d done keg stands in college with to this world-renowned former MMA champion and highly sought-after coach.
Though he had been a couple of years ahead of Cade at the University of Washington, they’d become fast friends once they’d realized their Hudson Island connection. Cade and his older brother, Dante, had spent most of their summers and holidays staying with their grandparents on the island. It was a wonder Joe hadn’t met them prior to college.
“You’ve done good, man.” Joe slapped his friend on the back. “Really freaking good. Do you only focus on training out here, or is this gym open to the public?”
“We have a community class program. Fighters move around a lot, so it isn’t wise to rely solely on the fight purse.” Cade grinned. “See, I learned a thing or two in college, after all.”
