“You sound surprised.”
“I am,” I responded honestly.
“Why? A meathead NFA fighter can’t go to a good school?” he questioned, defensively.
I shook my head. “You don’t seem like the type.”
He pulled a face before chuckling and pushing back a little from the table. “You’re right. I’m not, which is why I dropped out before graduating.”
“And then you became Skullcrusher.” I grinned.
He gave a one shoulder shrug. “Technically, I was Skullcrusher before dropping out, but that’s when it became my pro name.”
“How’d you get the nickname?”
“Banks. He came to a gym I used to train at in Bridge Lake. He watched me throughout practice, noticing I always went for the headshot. After that, I became known around the gym as Skullcrusher.
“A year later, once I finally ditched school, I moved out here to train directly under him. He had to teach me the discipline of fighting. Of not always going for the head when a punch or knee to the ribs would do. But it’s still my first instinct. To go for the head. Earned more than one knockout because of it.”
I tightened my hold on the pendant, not even aware that I’d latched on to it. Clearing my throat, I asked. “You dropped out of college and then began your career as a fighter. What made you go in the first place?” I couldn’t imagine Luke was ever the type to go the straight and narrow path.
His face immediately switched to a hard glare. He placed his elbows on the table and allowed his eyes to drop to my plate. “You finished with that?”
Startled, I looked down to my half-eaten plate, before I looked up again to see Luke waving our waitress over.
“Check,” he snapped as soon as she arrived. Obviously, a nerve had been struck.
“You have an appointment tomorrow with the physical therapist for a massage,” I informed him as we exited the restaurant’s front door, me with a box in my hand to take home the rest of my meal.
“I don’t need a massage.”
“Need it or not, you’re getting one. Also, when does our flight leave for Williamsport?”
He looked startled by the question, but he quickly slanted his eyebrows, giving me a frustrated look.
“Our flight doesn’t leave because your ass isn’t going anywhere.”
“Wrong again.” I shook my head. “If you’re going to Williamsport, so am I.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fucking pain in my ass.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m leaving Thursday and will be back on Saturday. Me. I’m going… alone.”
I shrugged. “Okay. Fine.”
His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows lifted and he cocked his head to the side, eyeing me. He remained silent for a heartbeat, as if trying to figure out my angle. He didn’t ask another question.
“I’ll have a workout drawn up for you for the days you’re away.”
Something crossed his eyes, but it happened so quickly it was unreadable. Luke was silent as he traced his eyes over my face. We both stood there, eye to eye, toe to toe.
He moved closer somehow. Or maybe I had. Either way, we were only a hair’s breadth away from touching. Luke reached a hand up toward the side of my face, just barely grazing it.
Everything in my body told me this was the moment before a first kiss and right when I started to turn my face up, allowing him better access to my mouth, he dropped his hand to his side as he pushed out a heavy breath. Shaking his head, he took a step backwards.
“Where’re you parked?”
