“Was it weird at all? You know, with the heart and everything?” I knew Shaw had been dying to ask that question since he’d woken up and seen Griffin leaving our place.
“Not at all. Being with him felt more right than I have ever felt with anyone before.”
Shaw raised his milkshake glass in the air. “Well then, cheers to that.”
Chapter 14
Griffin
Igotto the gym without a minute to spare. I didn’t want to deal with Omar, but I knew he was going to be an ass no matter what so I bit the bullet and went right for his office in the back.
“Hey Coach.” I threw my gym bag down in the corner of the room as he ended a call.
“Griffin, nice of you to grace us with your presence.” He grunted as I took a seat.
“My fight’s tomorrow. It’s not like I am going to be sparing or lifting weights today.”
He gave me a onceover. “Why are your eyes bloodshot and puffy? You know how important it is to get good rest leading up to a challenge like this.”
I dismissed his concern with a wave of my hand. “Please. You know I’m as ready as I ever will be for tomorrow.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Weigh-in is at noon. You know the drill.”
“Carb load tonight, suck citrus in the morning, and then eat after I make weight,” I rattled off. “You act like I haven’t been around the block a time or a hundred.”
“You know it’s my job to keep an eye on your ass and keep you in line.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Where the heck were you yesterday and last night, by the way?” He took a swig out of his coffee mug, both of us knowing there was way more Irish in that cup than coffee.
“I went to go meet the daughter of the dude whose heart I have.” My tone was flat, for some reason I didn’t want to get into the details with Omar. The time I spent with Olive was so special, I didn’t want it to be tainted by judgement.
His eyes got wide. “You did what now? Have you lost your damn mind?”
“She’s really great. It was nice to meet her after all this time—and that reminds me, I need three tickets left at will call for tomorrow’s fight.”
He shook his head. “It’s a sold-out event. No can do.”
I shoved up from the seat. “Make it happen, and make them damn good seats.”
He threw his hands in the air. “I’m not promising anything.”
“Work your magic, Omar. I know you will figure something out.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”
I grabbed my bag, taking the water bottle out of it. “What?”
He started to follow me out into the gym. “Having this broad come to your fight. We can’t have you distracted. It could ruin your shot at the title.”
“Don’t start. Everything is going to be fine. She’s coming, whether you like it or not.”
“All right, I just had to ask.”
* * *
After spendinga few hours running on the treadmill and jumping rope, it was time to call it quits for the day. The evening before a fight, I had a routine: make spaghetti and meatballs and watch standup comedy.
