Sucking my lips into my mouth, I don’t respond because it’s all I can do to focus on wrapping his hands correctly. When I’ve finished, I turn to Ashlin. “How do you feel about holding pads for him?”
She nods. “I can do that. It’s been a while, but I remember how.”
“Thanks.” I check his wraps, then raise my gaze to his. “I’ll be back.” Because I can’t resist, I brush a kiss over his lips. He lets me retreat without trying for more, and I’m grateful for it.
“Kick some ass, babe,” he says as I head for the door. “I’m proud of you.”
ChapterTwenty-Five
Devon
The tornado of barely leashed energy within me winds tighter. Soon, it’s going to explode. I just hope I can make it into the cage before that happens. It’s driving me crazy not having my fight brothers around, and not being able to spend the whole damn night in the same room as Harley. I want to help her prepare, to murmur encouragements in her ear before she goes out for her next two fights.
Fortunately, Ashlin makes it her job to keep me occupied. Seth’s ex is sweet, in a quietly competent kind of way. Her mouth is perpetually slanted up at the corners and I can tell how much she cares for Harley. It’s in her every word and action. I can’t help wondering how my gruff former coach ever wooed her in the first place. She seems like his opposite. Slim, delicate, ethereal—although she holds the pads with strength and calls combinations with a degree of confidence that surprises me.
After I lower my fists and tell her I’ve had enough, we sit side by side on a pair of chairs and I sip water while she twists a ring on the fourth finger of her right hand.
“So, you and Seth were married?” I ask, because now seems as good a time as any to get answers to questions that no one else is brave enough—or stupid enough—to ask.
“For four years,” she replies, continuing to twirl the chunky metal band. “But we were together for three years before that.”
“Seven years is a long time to spend with someone.”
She sighs, and her hands still. “If you love them, it’s nowhere near long enough.”
I glance at her, and see that she’s staring at a spot on the wall. “You can’t make a comment like that and not elaborate.”
Giving me a wry smile, she shrugs. “It’s not that different from most breakup stories. I loved him, stuff happened, it ended, and it took me years to recover.”
“I’m sorry.” My gut twists, and I wish I hadn’t pried. There’s anguish in the depths of her dark eyes that tells me she may not have fully recovered even now.
“Don’t be.” She sits on her hands, hiding the ring from view. “Just don’t break Harley’s heart. Whatever happened with Seth and I, she’s like a sister to me, and I don’t want her hurting.”
“You don’t need to worry about us,” I assure her. “I love her, and I plan to be with her long-term, if she’ll have me.”
Her phone vibrates, and she checks it. “Harley is on next. Want to head out and watch?”
“Yeah.”
We both stand, but before we reach the door, she stops me with a hand on my arm.
“Don’t give up on Harley. She can be stubborn, but when she cares, she does it deeply, and I can tell she has strong feelings for you.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “She’s it for me, so I’ve got as much time as she needs.”
We take one of the snaking hallways behind the stadium to a rear entrance and slip inside, standing against the back wall to watch. We can’t see much from here, but fortunately the action is being streamed onto a number of large screens, and I focus on one of those. I’ve seen Savage Rose fight a number of times, and she lives up to her name. I have every confidence that Harley can take her down though.
The first round starts, and the two women circle each other. While Harley is relatively unharmed from her earlier fight, Rose is sporting a bruise on the side of her torso and her lip is encrusted with blood. As they exchange blows, neither injury seems to bother her. She pushes forward, trying to drive the action like the pit bull she is, but Harley is magic when she moves. Her striking is effortlessly graceful. Xena, in the flesh. I can’t take my eyes off her.
Three rounds later, the final bell sounds and they’re both battered and blood-smeared. They bump fists, then sling arms around each other. The crowd goes wild, loving the show of camaraderie. The umpire stands to the side, and we await the decision with bated breath. I think Harley did enough to be crowned winner, but in the absence of a knockout or serious injury, it’s almost impossible to be certain. The announcer shouts her name and she launches a fist into the air. Rose nods deferentially, and they hug again before returning to their respective corners.
Beside me, I hear laughter, and turn. Ashlin is watching me with a broad smile.
“Everything I need to know about your feelings for Harley is written all over your face,” she says. “You love her.”
“I do.” I don’t care if it’s obvious.
“Good.” She nods toward the door. “Come on, let’s get you ready to go.”
