“Real dope, Noah.” Cam smothers a laugh. “Real cool.”
Jamie glares at Cam before he loops his arm around Noah. “Come on, let’s go.”
We walk into the bar.The noise is deafening but it’s not at all like in the movies.
There are tons of people hanging around outside in the parking lot, and the wooden building is bleeding music from its walls. “And how did you find out about this place?” Jamie asks Cam.
“Aiden told me had a fight tonight, and I told him I’d be by to watch. Dude’s a beast. I can’t imagine how he’ll look fighting someone for real. I bet the money is sick too.”
“Money?”
He nods. “Depending on the fighter and how good they are, the money can be great.”
“Have you ever done it?”
Cam laughs. “Oh, hell no. I box for fun. I think Aiden does it because he needs it—the money and fighting someone. Bro is tense as fuck.”
Again, I don’t see that. Not when he’s with me at least.
We walk inside and Cam heads to the bar and whispers something to the bartender. She nods, pointing toward a door in the back. “Come on.”
We follow Cam to the door and down the rickety wooden steps. “Oh my god.” Noah’s mouth drops when we step into the basement. A massive makeshift ring sits in the middle. “This is just like that motorcycle book I read last week.”
“The harem one?”
Noah nods. “The dirty things that probably happen in that ring.”
Jamie loops his arm around him with a smile. We follow Cam, who makes a path for us until we’re in front. There’s a fighton now that looks like it’s almost over by the way one of the men is staggering. His opponent lifts his hands. Taped. No gloves. Then punches him.
His opponent goes down. The referees call it and the other guy grins, raising his hands. “No gloves?”
Cam shakes his head. “I don’t know how this whole thing works. We use gloves at the gym, but I can tell Aiden’s no stranger to fighting.”
Everything else Cam says gets drowned out when I see him.
Aiden dips under the rope in a pair of black gym shorts. His hands are taped like the last guy. No shirt. The deep tan of his skin gleams with sweat. I wonder if this is the only time he’s fought tonight. It’s very hot.
In here.
The basement.
It’s very hot in the basement.
I look at him. His face is stony, still. Nothing like the other night when I had him under me.
This man is lethal.
Cam is still talking, but my entire focus is on Aiden.
In the ring he moves like a cat while his opponent joins him. The ref reads out the few rules they do have. No biting, kicking. No hits to the eyes or balls. In the ring he moves like a predator.
Shoulders rolling. Sizing up. Muscles bunching.
Each movement is fluid. His jaw is hard, clenched, his black hair damp. Sweat drips off him. The crowd roars around us, but all I see is him.
Then his eyes drift. Cam is waving maniacally at him, but his gaze lands on me. And stays. “Holy shit,” Noah whispers. “He’s eye fucking the shit out of you.”
“Shut up.” I laugh nervously, but I can’t look away.
