“I love you,” she says with the sweetest voice.
I smile. Alek has no chance. He sighs.
“I don’t want you girls to hang out in a gym full of big, sweaty guys.”
“That’s exactly what I need. I’m single,” I tease.
I probably shouldn’t be playing with Alek like that. If looks could kill, the one that Alek shoots me would send me to the graveyard.
“You’ve got to give Tia more credit. She can handle an MMA gym, babe.” Abi touches his shoulder.
I stare at the place where her hand connects to my brother’s shoulder, and my smile widens.
Alek groans and murmurs some profanities under his breath. Good thing the drive is only twenty-five minutes because Abi cranks up some country music and sings along, but she doesn’t have one musical bone in her body. They say love is blind but I’d have to add deaf too. My brother gives me a pleading look in jest. His smile beneath it gives away just how much he loves her. And I love him even more for his tenderness.
I follow them through large double doors. The scents of human sweat, metallics, and wet cloth hit my nose. I hold my breath for five seconds and exhale loudly. There’s yelling, mostly cursing, and gloves slapping a punching bag.
A camera is placed in one corner. Around it, small punching bags hang from the ceiling. My eyes search the large place. Weights are located in the opposite corner.
There’s lots of grunting and roaring. These men are working out so hard, but it’s not in vain. They have a goal—win an upcoming fight, win in life, prove their strength to themselves… Whatever it is, they put themselves through this pain in the name ofsomething.
What have I done with my life? I put it on hold and ran.
A guy nearby groans as he crunches with a big medicine ball. He looks like he’s ready to give up, but he doesn’t. These guys may like fighting, but they also have purpose and passion.
I want to feel passionate, fulfilled, and alive like that.
The ring is in the middle of the gym, and Victor is inside sparring with a guy who is about his size. But that guy has protective gear on his shins, hands, and head. Victor only wears shorts and a rash guard T-shirt with long sleeves. The skin on his knuckles is cut and bleeding.
I swallow hard.I can do this.
As if he can sense me, his eyes lock with mine. They go from focused to… something else. At that moment the other guy’s fist lands on Victor’s cheek with power. Victor’s head snaps to the side.
“What the fuck?” Victor roars.
“Your hands were down.” The other guy puts his hands up in defense.
“That’s what you get for being distracted.” I follow the deep voice to an older man. He’s as huge as Victor and walks confidently to him. He doesn’t get inside the ring but is close. Victor’s eyes are on fire, his eyebrows knitted.
“Isn’t Victor supposed to wear protective gear?” I ask.
The hit seems big. Impactful.
“Yes, during practice, but I guess since Victor forgot it at home, his dad must have made him spar without it.”
“That’s his dad?”
Alek nods.
I can see where Victor gets his good looks. His dad only has a few more wrinkles around his eyes and gray hair on his temples. But unlike his dad, Victor is kind.
He talks to his dad while twisting his neck as if it’s sore. Victor’s body seems tense. His chest rises faster now, while his dad stares at us with narrowed eyes.
“Maybe we should say hi to his dad.”
Alek gives me a strange look. “Your funeral.”
“I thought you wanted to protect me,” I tease.
