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“Ethan will probably have to take a few pictures afterward, especially if he wins. And he’s definitely taking a shower before he gets in the car with us for two hours. So, I don’t know, twenty minutes?”
“Okay, call me when you’re about to leave and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
She nods. “You know, Austin said you only want to be friends with him when I talked to him before the fight.”
I turn to her, not even pretending to pay attention to the match now. “And you couldn’t have led with that when I first sat down?”
“The match had already started,” she says, gesturing in front of her.
“What do you mean I only want to be friends with him? Why would he think that?”
“I don’t know. I’m just the messenger.”
I wince, realizing too late I’m practically yelling at her. “Sorry. This is all stressing me out.”
“Talk to him.”
“I’m trying. Trust me.”
Whether he likes it or not, I’m getting to the bottom of this sudden change in personality today.
I’m quiet as the second round ends, watching Austin tend to Ethan in the corner of the ring. He speaks intently to him, Ethan’s head bobbing at whatever he’s saying, and as the final round starts, Ethan goes in with a renewed spirit.
The advantage seems to continually swap back and forth between the two men, and Lexie mutters something under her breath about hooks and crosses I can’t quite make out.
When the bell rings after three rounds, I’m still not sure who won.
“They have to tally up the points,” Lexie explains when I ask her. “Based on the number of clean punches they landed.”
“How do you think he did?”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I think he had more hits, but I’m biased. And after his last match, he needs this win.”
We wait with bated breath as they total up the points and bring both guys back in the ring.
“And your winner is…” The announcer pauses for dramatic effect. “Ethan Hudson.”
Lexie jumps up from her seat, loudly clapping and cheering. I’ve never seen her so animated.
I cheer too, but it’s just as much for Austin as it is for Ethan. Hopefully, he’s in a good enough mood now to talk. Our conversation earlier had only raised more questions than it answered, especially when adding in what Lexie said.
My stomach roils unpleasantly as I walk down the bleacher stairs, nerves coursing through me, and I stumble on the last step. A helpful arm reaches out to catch me, and I look up into familiar gray eyes, though they’re not the ones I was hoping for.
“Mr. Langford,” I stutter. “What are you doing here?”
He raises his brows and I wince.
“I’m sorry, that sounded rude. You’re obviously here for Austin.”
Did the two of them ever talk again about him not going pro? If they did in the last couple of days… I guess Austin wouldn’t have said anything to me about it.
“When Marty mentioned Austin would be here,” he says, “I thought he’d changed his mind about fighting. I didn’t realize he’d be working.”
“Yeah, he’s the new trainer…” I trail off when it’s apparent this is news to him. “Maybe you should talk to—”
“Dad.”
I glance up at Austin, his gaze flicking between me and his father, finally settling on the latter. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
