His eyes twinkle. “Am I too hot?”
“For my sanity.” My hand drops to my side and I try to shake off the sense that something is wrong. It’s probably just that I’m scared to relax and enjoy myself now everything is going well.
Yeah, that must be it.
If only I could believe it.
Gabe
My head is pounding like crazy, but I don’t let on to Sydney as she prepares her own smoothie. I’ve clued into the fact that I’ve probably overdone things this week, but surely this mammoth headache is overkill. After all, it’s not like I’ve gone completely over the top. Other people manage to be championship fighters while maintaining happy relationships. Hell, just look at Jase and Lena, and Jase didn’t have the advantage of being raised by a Ruby Knuckles finalist. I should be able to handle this.
Sydney’s eyes widen as I drink. “Whoa. Don’t forget to breathe.”
I give her my cockiest grin, and say, “Breathing is for wimps.”
She rolls her eyes as I drain the rest of my drink. I place the mug in the sink and wipe my mouth on a napkin, then give her one more kiss and get out of there before she asks any more questions. Sydney can be stubborn as hell when she wants to be. I catch a taxi home, then grab my training gear and drive to the gym. Music is blaring as I toss my bag over my shoulder and head in.
“You’re late,” Seth grunts as I enter. He’s holding pads for one of the newer guys, Jimmy something-or-other, and looks up just long enough to give me a withering stare of disapproval. My balls try to crawl up inside me. Seth is scary as hell sometimes.
“Sorry, man. Won’t happen again.” I’m not the type to offer excuses or useless explanations.
“Better not.” He nods toward the skipping ropes. “Warm up, do a hundred burpees so you remember the importance of being punctual, then we’ll do King of the Ring. You, Dev, and Jase can show young Jimmy here what it takes to be the best.”
“Got it.” I wrap my hands, then grab a skipping rope from a hanger on the wall and start jumping. When my body is warm, I transition to burpees—or as I like to call them, the Devil’s exercise. I don’t know what it is, maybe just the fact I’m bigger than any of the other guys here, but it takes me twice as long to do burpees as everyone else, and I expend twice as much effort. Simply put, all the guys here have a weakness, and they’re mine. Seth knows it too, the sadistic bastard. My vision swims as I leap up and down, and several times I don’t get my hands out fast enough to avoid body slamming the floor.
Jesus, what’s wrong with me today?
Finally, I finish, and Seth calls me straight over to the ring, where the other guys are lined up and leaning on the ropes.
“Dev and Jase,” he says. “Show Jimmy what Crown MMA fighters are made of. First one to land a clean shot or take their opponent to the floor stays in, the loser subs out.” He turns to me. “I want you talking Jimmy through this. He kicked ass in the amateurs, but he’s playing with the big boys now, and you’re going to be the helping hand guiding him into the pros.” He leans closer and murmurs in my ear, “We want some of the cockiness knocked out of him, but not all of it.”
I nod, knowing exactly what he means. Fighting takes confidence, but too much can be deadly if there’s nothing to back it up. I offer Jimmy a fist, and he bumps it. He’s a lean white kid, perhaps twenty or so, with hooded blue eyes and a half-smirk. I don’t know where Seth recruited him from, but I have a feeling he’s about to go through the MMA equivalent of hazing.
Devon and Jase step into the center of the ring, circling each other, then Devon strikes, quick as a snake, throwing a jab as a decoy before launching an uppercut at the underside of Jase’s chin. But for all that Devon is fast, Jase has been doing this for longer, and he dodges out of the way and kicks at Devon’s ankle, trying to take him down. Dancing out of reach, Devon circles back with a push kick aimed at Jase’s solar plexus. It lands, but Jase hardly reacts, so Seth doesn’t call the round. They continue going at it until Devon throws a suicidal head kick. I say suicidal because it’s exactly the opportunity Jase needs to sweep his remaining leg out from under him and tackle him to the floor.
Seth blows his whistle, and Devon groans. “Damn it, one of these days I’m gonna get you.”
“My turn,” Jimmy says, swaggering forward to face Jase, who’s grinning in a way that makes me nervous for what’s about to come. At least it’s Jase in the ring with the kid rather than Devon, who doesn’t know how to take it easy.
“Don’t let him get you on the ground,” I tell Jimmy. “He’ll try to sweep your legs out or get you off balance. Don’t be too heavy on your feet or you’re a goner.”
He nods, raising his hands to protect his jaw, but I can see he isn’t taking this as seriously as he should be. Jase isn’t going to go easy on him, although he won’t knock the kid hard enough to put him out of commission. That would just piss Seth off. It’s a shame I don’t know more about Jimmy’s style, because I don’t know which moves come naturally to him.
He throws a quick jab-cross combo and ends with a low kick. Jase blocks the punches and checks the kick. He’s going slow, feeling the new boy out and lulling him into a false sense of security. It’s working, too. Jimmy comes forward more aggressively, throwing another jab, which Jase parries, followed by an overhand right. I see the gleam in Jase’s eye, and then he slips the punch and drives up with his knee, directly into Jimmy’s solar plexus. The kid goes down, gasping. I hurry over and grab his arms, raising them above his head so he can breathe more easily.
“Fuck,” he wheezes. “What was that?”
“That was me proving I’m more than a brawler,” Jase remarks. “Wise up, man. Just because you only see me rolling around the ring, that doesn’t mean I’m shit as a stand-up fighter.”
The kid nods, still dragging in air. “Got it.”
“Jimmy, out,” Seth barks. “Gabe, you’re with Jase. How about bringing this cocky mofo down a peg?”
“On it, boss.” I pop my mouthguard in and step forward as Jimmy flops out of the ring. He’s not down for good though—I can see from his expression that the setback has only made him hungry for more, which is the kind of attitude it takes to survive around here.
Jase and I face each other as we have a thousand times before. I know his style so well that I can see what he’s going to do before he takes more than a couple of steps. The first strikes set the tone, and if I can keep him at a distance, I’ve got him. He knows this, so he charges. Unfortunately, even though I see it coming, my reflexes are slow. It takes me half a second too long to get out of the way, and that’s all he needs to tackle me to the ground. The moment we’re down, he sits up, straddling me, staying in position long enough to let me know he won the round.
Seth growls in disgust. “Slow, Gabe. Too fucking slow.”
