“Winner by submission, Clay, ‘the Crusher,’ Cameron!” the announcer bellows over the crowd drunk on fighting and 50 cent beers as he holds my arm up in the air in victory.
“Crusher! Crusher!” the crowd chants my fighting name over and over as I force a trained smile.
My eyes scan the crowd until they finally land on Maggie, her jaw dropped open, and her hands clasped in front of her. Ignoring the cheers and the usual post-fight sportsmanship, I stalk straight towards her. Reaching her side, I grab her arm and pull her with a bit more force than intended, guiding her towards the empty locker room.
“Come with me. Right now.”
Chapter 15 – Clay
I drag Maggie into the locker room, slamming the door shut with a firm click behind us. Adrenaline surges through me, energy pulsing with nowhere to go, the rush of victory still pounding in my veins after taking down a guy who doesn’t even deserve to breathe.?
But then there’s Maggie—grounding me, looking beautiful and out of place in this grimy underground bar. Tonight, she’s wearing tiny silver hoops, a light blue mid-length dress that hugs her curves in all the right ways with delicate spaghetti straps barely holding up her full breasts and toned shoulders.
The juxtaposition of her beauty against the dirty place reminds me that she has no business following me here. A mixture of frustration over her showing up yet desire for her churns from deep within me. Part of me is furious that she’s come, and the other part wants to throw her over the nearest chair and make her regret it in a way that she won’t soon forget.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“I came to see you fight. That was amazing, Clay,” she says, her eyes wide with admiration reminding me of Bambi again, almost glowing with trust and adoration she shouldn’t have.
I want to crush that starry-eyed look with a sharp remark. Shatter any romantic notions she has about some broken prince fighting off the bad guys to come and save her.
“There’s nothing special about two fucked up, dirty men fighting out their demons in a dingy bar full of drunken heathens.”
She takes a step closer, and I draw in my breath, her hand brushes against my cheek gently, wiping away what is probably blood that’s started to dry.
“This is where you come to deal with your pain. It’s how you process everything, isn’t it? It’s noble. It’s incredible. I wish you could see yourself the way that I do.”
“Stop romanticizing it,” I snap, trying to keep my voice as stern and firm as possible.
I hit her with my cold words, but instead of retreating, she steps closer, her scent envelopes me, her eyes are unwavering. Something’s shifted in her and suddenly I realize she may not be as easy to scare away as she was last summer.
“I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten years old. Back then, you were kind, happy, silly—the guy who brought people together. And then I watched you grow up, and you held on to that joy... until Savannah. After her, it was like you lost something. I told myself it was just a silly teenage crush anyways, that I didn’t really know you and when I mistakenly expressed to you that I thought you were handsome last summer, you made it clear you’d never see me as more than a child.”
She pauses, her gaze softening as she studies me closely. “When I came back two weeks ago, you looked even better than the guy I once had a crush on. But I was reminded again that you weren’t the same. And I wasn’t the same. You were colder, broken. Still, there’s been something different about you this summer, something I haven’t been able to figure out until now.”
Her voice drops, “You stopped pretending. You stopped hiding behind humor and wit, and you found an opportunity to bereal. In here, in the ring, you’re all alpha—strong, dangerous—but it’s more than that. You’re letting yourself feel the pain, letting it move through you. You’ve found an outlet that allows you to be someone different outside of the life you were born into as the youngest Cameron son. And somehow, that’s made you stronger, more relatable to others. And that version of you? That’s the best version I’ve ever seen.”
Her words hit like a punch that I wasn’t ready for. Her hand reaches up again, touching my cheek gently where I can still feel the sting of a scab forming. I grab her wrist and hold it in place, squeezing and staring into those chocolate brown orbs that trust me way too damn much for her own good.
“You’re not the young man who had his heart broken seven years ago by someone who never deserved you. And I’m not the little girl who watched from afar, holding on to a childish crush while navigating my youth,” she says, her voice steady but soft.
“I’m a woman now, Clay, and I know you may never see me that way. But I came here tonight to show my support just like you’ve supported everyone else who you deem fit to receive it. Because people who are fighting to heal themselves are the ones who truly deserve it.”
Her gaze softens, and her voice drops to a whisper. “And believe me, though you like to remind me of my age, I’ve had my own share of pain in my short twenty years.”
My eyes scan her beautiful body taking in every inch of her figure and instantly I want to take away whatever pain she’s alluding to.
She steps closer, though my hand is still gripping her wrist. Her toes lift just enough for her lips to peck softly against my cheek. The tenderness in the gesture catches me off guard as she pulls away, body still pressed lightly against mine.
“I won’t tell anyone about your secret past time,” she whispers, her breath warm against my skin as her eyes cast downward. “And I hope that you aren’t mad about me showing up. But I just wanted to say I’m proud of you—for being brave enough to do something different and a little wild.”
She steps back, her smile faltering, and I realize I’m still gripping her wrist. She doesn’t pull away from me either.
“I know you’ll never see me as anything more, but maybe… we can be friends? I’d like to support you, if you’ll let me.”
I growl, feeling my cock tenting through my thin, fighting shorts and pressing into her thigh now. The last thing I want from Maggie is friendship, but it’s probably theonlything I should take. I don’t have anyone else supporting me besides Dallas, and the fact that she’s here—without judging me for what I’m doing, unlike Savannah—only makes her even more irresistible.
“Oh…” she says, her eyes glancing down at my shorts then back up at me.
