Chapter Three
Ian
After Alexa left I was antsy. I was really glad that she wasn’t mad at me anymore. I was afraid I’d blown it again when I told her about her dad at first. I couldn’t help but wonder how that conversation was going to go. I couldn’t help but worry about how her dad was going to react when she told him that not only did she know what he’d told me…but that she wanted to keep seeing me. I believed what she said about him being this way because of her mom…but I also worried that maybe some of it was that he really didn’t like me either. I wouldn’t win first prize in an “I’d love for you to date my daughter” contest. What I’d told her was true too…I didn’t meet many dads. I wasn’t a dater. Every so often I’d be seeing a girl like Kristy who would attach themselves to me and insist they were my girlfriend, but the truth was, I didn’t do girlfriends or dates….until Alexa. I suddenly wanted her to be my girlfriend. And I suddenly wanted to be good enough for her and her father. Maybe after my championship fight tomorrow. If I win that one, endorsements and offers from UFC were sure to follow. Maybe if I was in a “legitimate” occupation, albeit still using my fists that would be at least one redeeming quality.
I tried to finish the movie, but I couldn’t sit still. I finally ended up getting dressed and heading out to the gym. I didn’t usually go the night before a fight. The last thing I wanted was an injury that would prevent me from fighting. Especially this fight. It was too important. I had to get out of the apartment though. I would make sure not to overdo it, but I had to do something to work off some of this nervous energy or I’d never get any sleep tonight. There weren’t many people around at the gym at this time of night, so that was good. I liked when it was quiet and I could focus. Too many “Strongmen” and “Gym bunnies” gave it a bar atmosphere that pissed me off when I was trying to seriously work out.
I started out with some stretches and lunges and then I took out a rope and jumped for about fifteen minutes. I rested for five, got some water and then I moved over to the speed bag.
I got under the bag and with my hands open and close to the bag, I started hitting in small circles, letting my hand travel in circles through the air between each strike. Right, right, left, left….I got into a rhythm and I did that for about three minutes. I rested for one and did it again for another three. I was about to go again when I heard, “Ian, what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be home sitting on your ass eating pasta.” It was Dean, my trainer. I turned to look at him, knowing I was caught red-gloved. He was a big one for resting the night before a big fight.
“Hey Dean. Sorry, I was just a little antsy tonight. I needed to clear my head and get some of this energy out or I’ll never be able to sleep tonight. That’ll be worse, right?”
“I guess. Don’t over-do it though. This is your big chance man. The scouts will be out in full-force. You don’t want to have to cancel it because you pulled a muscle or something stupid.”
“I know,” I told him. “I’m not going to blow this. I just seriously couldn’t relax tonight.”
Dean sighed and said, “How about some pad training…light!”
“Sounds good,” I told him. He went and got the pads while I put on my gloves.
“Okay, three minutes, alternate hands, go!”
I hit the pad with a cross then a jab, a hook and uppercut and I switched hands and did it again. I switched up and did the one-two fashion, focusing on striking the pad dead center each time. I went in fast and hard for the last minute, just concentrating on my jabs. When the alarm on Dean’s watch sounded I finished up with an uppercut.
He had me rest for a full two minutes and then we started again. This time he moved the pads, up, down and side-to-side as I threw the punches. We did another three minute round, a one minute rest this time and we did it again. On the fourth one he said, “This is the last one, then you go home and rest, okay kid?”
“Yep,” I agreed. I didn’t know about the rest part, but I’d go home. I’ll rest better if I hear from Alexa and I know that all is well with her and her dad.
I finished the work-out and thanked Dean. He reminded me again how big tomorrow’s fight was. I tried not to get annoyed with him. It was really his night too and if I won, it would be a win for him. He’d been the one that took the time to teach me what I needed to know, going so far as to scare me “straight” about the doping. He’d seen a lot of it before he went to prison and even while he was there. He told me a lot of horror stories about it that gave me nightmares. He was the one that taught me how to take care of my body without putting anything artificial in it. I hoped he knew how much I appreciated all that he’d done for me. If I ever did make it big, I was taking him with me as far as he wanted to go.
I took a quick shower in the locker room and after I got dressed I let myself check the phone again. Nothing. Damn. I wanted to call her, but I forced myself to leave it alone for now. The last thing I’d want to do is interrupt her in the middle of that conversation. I got in the car and went home. It was late and I really needed to at least try and sleep. I got there, downed another bottle of water and headed for bed. I checked the phone one more time…still no call. I sat it down on the nightstand and took off my shoes and pulled off my shirt. I double checked that the ringer was on and then I lay down. I reached for it again and finally just sent her a text:
“Hey, sorry to bug. I just wanted to make sure all was okay.”
I sat there and stared at it. Less than a minute went by and she text back:
“Everything is fine. Thank you for worrying.” It was followed by a little smiley face. I guess that meant I should stop worrying. I suddenly realized that I was exhausted. A lot of good sex and a little bit of working out makes Ian a tired boy. I settled down into my bed, closed my eyes and was out in minutes.