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“Or at all,” I admit before I overthink opening my big mouth.
Zeke chokes on his burger. “You shitting me? What about the hottie from the last fight?”
I shake my head, regretting bringing up this conversation. “Just friends.”
He snorts. “She’s not a girl you can be “just friends” with.”
I shrug. “It’s complicated.”Like the rest of my fucking life.
Obviously sensing my reluctance to talk about my non-existent sex life, Zeke changes the subject, launching into some story that I’m only half listening to as we finish our meal. My mind has subconsciously gone back to holding Lily in my arms this morning. It’s hard to forget how perfectly she fit up against me.
I’m still thinking about her as we clean up, grab our training bags, and head up the internal stairs to the arena above us. She’s still on my mind when I get changed and when the referee comes in to brief me before the fight.
When it’s time for me to make my way into the cage, I can’t help but think about her. I’m distracted, and I barely have time to register before the first punch that connects with my jaw.
NINETEEN
LILY
HARLEY’S GOING TO be pissed. He’s never said it aloud, but I have a feeling he doesn’t want anyone at his fights. This is why Tom, Ivy, Conrad, Brady, Wren, Jordan, Ronnie, and I have chosen seats in the middle of the bleachers–hoping to conceal ourselves in the crowd.
The atmosphere is just as electric as the last time. I can’t believe it’s been a month since I arrived in Blue Haven–it already feels more like a home than Sydney ever did. Harley’s friends and family have welcomed me in, and Harley has been nothing but sweet. Something told me that first night that he saved me, that he was one of the good ones.
Ivy’s biting her bottom lip as her eyes scan the crowded room. Tom keeps checking his phone. Brady and Conrad are deep in conversation, and Jordan is gesturing in a way that makes me think he’s trying to give Wren and Ronnie a crash course in MMA fighting. From the confusion on theirfaces, I don’t think he’s doing a very good job.
I lean over Tom and rest my hand on Ivy’s arm, meeting her watery green gaze with my confident one. “Harley’s got this. He’ll be fine.”
“This is bigger than I thought it would be,” she admits. “I didn’t realise so many people from Blue Haven were into this kind of thing.”
Tom snorts. “They’re not all from Blue Haven, Ives. People travel for these sorts of events.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flush, and she ducks her head.
I elbow him in the stomach, and he grunts, looking over at me. “Be nice.”
He rolls his eyes. His phone buzzes, and a weird look crosses his face. He looks around, as if trying to find someone, then climbs to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, keeping my voice low so I don’t worry Ivy any more than she already is.
“All good.” Tom forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and I’m immediately on edge, but he doesn’t give me a chance to ask any more questions as he shuffles past, making his way to the end of the row and disappearing into the crowd.
He’s not back before the lights go down and Harley’s opponent, Darcy Martino, is announced. I’m so distracted by Tom’s mysterious disappearance and trying to spot him that like last time I miss Martino’s stats, but the room erupts in cheers and wolf whistles. My gaze drags back to the cage, and my eyes widen. The guy is fucking built! I mean, havingwoken up pressed up against Harley’s ripped body–he’s definitely not lacking in muscles–but Martino has a freaking ten pack. I didn’t even know that was possible!
Full of energy, he bounces around the cage shadowboxing and playing up to the crowd. If this was a popularity vote, he’d have this in the bag. His cocky grin has me wishing I could go down there and smack him in the face. Hopefully that gives Harley some extra motivation.
The lights go down again and Harley’s entrance song starts playing. My mouth goes dry as Harley makes his way towards the cage. His dark hair frames his face, his expression blank as he eyes his opponent. He doesn’t even give the crowd a second glance.
Tom returns, breaking my gaze. “Where were you?” I call over the music, but he just waves me away.
The fight starts, and Martino doesn’t hold back. He launches forward catching Harley with a clean right hook. He staggers back, shaking his head as if to clear it, but Martino isn’t about to let his lack of concentration go to waste. He peppers him with blow after blow, forcing Harley back into the cage.
I glance down the row at our friends, each staring at the fight in front of us, a mix of horror and worry etched on their faces. I draw my bottom lip between my teeth. Martino strikes out with a well-placed kick to Harley’s left knee, throwing him off-balance. The two engage in what looks like some crazy naked-man bear-hug grappling.
Martino holds Harley’s chest down with his shoulder ashe wraps his arms underneath his legs trying to pull him flat. Harley squirms, swinging wild punches as he tries to buck his legs and get Martino off him. This is so much more physical than Harley’s last fight, and an uneasy feeling washes over me.
Harley gets his forearm locked across Martino’s throat, holding him back. He rolls to the side, managing to shake Martino’s hold, and he scrambles to his feet. They dance around each other trading jabs until the time runs down and the referee steps in.
“It’s so brutal,” Ivy remarks.
