Harley
“You were awesome out there.” Devon appears in front of me the moment I leave the room reserved for Crown MMA.
I look around, surprised to see him out of his preparation room. “What are you doing here?”
He tucks a lock of hair that came loose in my previous fight behind my ear. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
He scans me up and down, but his expression doesn’t betray how terrible I look, even though I know it for myself because I checked the mirror. I wiped the blood from my face—some of it being Rose’s from a cut at her temple, and some of it mine from a bleeding nose—but there are smears up my arms and spotting on my crop top. On top of that, my eye is turning blue and my right thigh is killing me. All respect to Rose, she was a tough fighter and I’m lucky to have beaten her.
“Is Seth worried about you missing out on down time to help me?” he asks.
“Eh. He’ll get over it.” Honestly, I think he’d be eager to support Devon himself if not for his whole edict about refusing to train a couple. “Let’s get out of here before he comes along. You know he won’t be able to stop himself from giving you advice, and we’ve already worked out your game plan.”
A couple of men nod respectfully as I pass, and I return the gesture. It seems Seth’s plan is working. I’m gaining the kind of attention that might attract other women to his gym. We arrive at Devon’s room, and Ashlin greets us with the gear we need for the fight. A medic is standing beside her, and immediately moves to Devon to give him a once-over and measure his blood pressure before declaring him fit for duty.
“You can do this,” I tell him under my breath. “Feeling good?”
He steals a cheek-kiss and grins. “Feeling great. I’m ready to show this asshole what we’ve got.”
An usher arrives and leads us to the arena. Unlike me, Devon took a great deal of care choosing his walk-out song, and the moment it begins, I sense a change come over him. He’s focused. His attention is centered on the cage. All of the energy that’s usually busting from his seams is carefully directed at the opposition, who is already waiting.
He strides out, with me on his heels. A collective murmur rips around the stadium. Even in this modern time, it’s unusual to see a male fighter with a female coach—not that that’s what this is, but from the outside, that’s how it looks. I can’t see Seth, but I can feel his eyes on me. I pretend not to notice, and hope he won’t be too hurt that I’ve recruited Ashlin to help us.
When we reach the base of the cage, someone checks Devon’s mouthguard and gloves, then allows him to go up. I stride around the back, waiting for the opportunity to attend to him between rounds. Karson glances over at me, and his eyes widen, but then the umpire speaks to both fighters and the first round begins.
I don’t let myself scan the stadium for Seth. It’s important for Devon to have every ounce of my concentration right now. While the fighters move, I shout orders. Some he listens to, some he doesn’t. I expected nothing less. He may be the man I love, but he’s still a loose cannon.
The bell sounds, and Ashlin and I hurry into the cage. While she ices his torso—which has taken a beating from his opponent’s shin, I hand him a bottle and brief him on the changes he needs to make if he wants to win.
“Don’t try to fight him from a distance,” I say. “He thrives on that. You need to get into the pocket and put him on the back foot.”
He nods, his eyes wild with adrenaline. “Got it, boss.”
The umpire yells for the seconds to get out, and Ashlin and I return to our places. The next round only lasts thirty seconds. Devon crowds Karson, gets him on the ground, and forces him to tap out while the crowd—me included—scream our approval. The umpire raises his hand, and then Devon races down the steps, grabs me around the waist, and spins me in a circle. His mouth finds mine, and we kiss—hot and uninhibited—until he runs out of breath. If the crowd was loud before, it’s nothing compared to now.
When he pulls away, I say, “I love you,” and watch his eyes light up.
“Back at you, babe.” He glances somewhere over my head. Following his gaze, I spot Seth watching us thoughtfully. Ignoring him, I kiss Devon once more. “I want you front and center when I win.”
“I’ll be there,” he promises, and takes my hand as we head toward the back rooms. He nods to Seth when we reach his side, then he departs, going back to the room with his belongings in it.
“We need to talk later,” Seth mutters, the words loud in the quiet corridor. “About you and Dev.”
Stopping dead, I pause until he turns to face me. Is this the moment we’ve been waiting for? I should be happy, but all of a sudden, I’m annoyed at him for holding our futures hostage, whatever his reasons may have been.
“I’ve been thinking.” One of his brows flies up, but that’s all the response I get. Undaunted, I carry on. “I love Devon, and whether or not you believe it, we’re going to be together for a long time. We work well together, both in and out of the cage, and if you can’t find it in yourself to believe in us, I’ll seriously have to consider going elsewhere to be with him.”
He cocks his head. “You’d do that?”
“Yes.” Although the trembling in my chest reminds me I’d rather not. “We’re a package deal.” Now that I’ve made the decision, it feels right. I should have done it a long time ago.
He nods once, then returns to walking. I consider pushing the matter, but now isn’t the time. I still have one last fight to get through.
“Who’s my opponent for the final?” I ask.
“Enya Sears.”
Excitement buzzes in my stomach, shoving out the anxiety from our conversation, as I recall the freckled brunette who moves like a ballerina. The one beloved by America, who keeps falling just short of any major win.
