“Go show them what you can do.” His words were soft, almost reverent.
A steady, grounding heat spread through my chest.
“Yeah,” I choked out. “I plan to.”
I tightened the wrap around my wrist and kept my breathing steady. I needed this, needed something to remind me how strong and capable I was.
Once I stepped into the octagon, I wouldn't be the girl drowning in bills, responsibilities, and choices I didn't want to make.
“You didn’t have to come,” I told him gruffly, tearing my eyes away from him.Bad Tori.
“Yeah, I did.” Casually, he wrapped his long fingers around my wrist. “Couldn’t let you beat people up without an audience.”
I rolled my eyes, but a warmth fluttered in my chest anyway. I was in deep shit.
Kai looked around like a kid at a carnival. He liked this, I realized, he liked being here … with me.
Which waspreciselywhy I needed to focus.
I stepped forward when they called my group. My stomach tightened the way it always did before a fight, a mix of nerves and adrenaline.
Kai tipped his head to one side and studied me with furrowed brows. Then he leaned down. “Hey.” His voice dropped to a gentle baritone, the deep sound reverberating through my very bones. “You’ve got this.”
I hated how much his words helped.
Somehow, Kai had wormed his way past all my defenses and become a consistent presence in my life. No, notjust consistent —important. Whenever he was around, I didn’t feel so untethered.
Most of the time, it felt like I was just along for the ride, and no matter how hard I tried to take control, it always felt like someone else was driving.
But with Kai, it was different. Kai anchored me in a way no one else ever had before, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
He’s leaving. He’s leaving, he’s leaving, he’s leaving.
Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him and gave him a curt nod.
“Thanks.”
Surprising me utterly, he pulled me towards him and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head. When he let go and I stepped back, my cheeks burning, he gave me his signature smile and hitched a thumb over his shoulder.
“I’ll be over there, cheering you on.”
Then he turned around without another word. I forced my gaze away from him, refusing to stare at his retreating back — his impossibly broad, sexy back — like a dumbass and turned to the mat.
Time to hopefully not get my ass kicked.
The cage always smelled the same. Metal. Sweat. Tape.
There was a hint of antiseptic, but it never quite managed to conceal the reality of what happened inside.
The crowd pressed close around the octagon, heat rising from every direction, lights glaring white acrossthe canvas floor. Somewhere above us, the announcer’s voice boomed, muffled by the endless chatter, shouts and adrenaline.
I flexed my fingers as I slipped on my gloves, chewing on the mouthguard. My braids were tied tight enough to hurt, just as they should be.
As I stepped into the cage, I tuned out everything except my opponent.
My opponent was tall, with an impressive reach, but her stance immediately told me everything I needed to know. Her hands were high, but her elbows were flared, and she held her chin a little too proudly. It was obvious she had a Muay Thai background but lacked the discipline.
I circled, light on my toes, before she threw a long, predictable jab. Easy to slip. I angled off to her weak side, caught her overcommitted weight and ducked under her cross. Pressing my shoulder into her hip, I swept her with a textbook-clean double-leg takedown.
