Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tristan

I watched as Amy got everybody where they needed to be. She was completely in charge of the photo shoot and it made me proud. She’d made this clothing line happen, it was her baby, and it was going to stay that way. She had Zoey on Skype as she walked around making sure the lighting was set and Ryder was ready. She avoided the lady that was rubbing the oil overs Ryder’s skin even though Zoey knew it was happening. Out of sight out of mind, Amy had justified. Once he was oiled up and the pants were on, he stepped up to the platform and took his place.

He was an impressive man. Probably more ripped than any of the men I’d worked with. Just so happened he was also a really decent guy. For that reason alone, I wanted him to win this fight and move forward in his career. He worked really hard and, honestly, after our first few conversations getting things settled, he rarely called me, and he always took his contract seriously. He did whatever I asked even when he didn't want to. He trusted that I knew what I was doing and I continued to make certain to deliver on my promises.

“Put your hands here,” the photographer instructed. I watched as Ryder balled his fists and lifted them and then turned his hips slightly, highlighting the logo on his shorts.

“Don't smile,” the photographer said.

Ryder changed his expression.

“Scowling isn't what I want either,” the photographer said. “I want a more concentrated look.”

“Give the I have to shit look,” Bret called out. Ryder flipped him off and the camera clicked a few times. I watched as he stood and took directions like a pro.

An hour later, I was looking at the pictures on Amy’s computer screen. She had Zoey on video chat looking with us.

“I really like this one,” Amy stated. “His expression is just right. He looks focused but not overconfident.” I agree Zoey chimed from Amy’s phone.

“If we could get a few more like that one maybe it would be all we need,” Amy spoke.

“There are over three hundred pictures,” Ryder complained. “I really want to wash this shit off. I smell like a male stripper.”

“I have the photographer for another hour. Let's get some shots with the shirts on as well,” I stated.

“But—” he started to say, but Amy cut him off.

“Thirty minutes, then you can shower. First we’ll get a few shots with shirts. Okay?” Amy made it sound like a request, but it wasn’t.

He nodded then walked over to the machine she pointed at. Amy wanted to get a few pictures of him actually working out for ads to promote the clothing line. He lifted weights, ran on the treadmill, and went a few rounds with the bags as the photographer took pictures. Thirty minutes later, I waved to him to go shower, and when he came back, he pulled a fresh shirt over his head. The bright red logo was situated perfectly over his chest. I wasn't sure how I felt about it initially, but seeing it on the clothes and being worn, it was pretty amazing.

The Mountain was going to be a household name for fight fans.

Ryder

Over five hundred pictures later, I didn't want to take another damn picture for at least a year. Of course, I knew that was a hopeless desire. Photographs were part of the job. A job I really needed to get back to. I needed to at least get some cardio in today. It was after three already.

“I’ve gotta get a run in and y’all gotta go,” I announced, throwing a towel over the bar on the treadmill. I clicked the incline and started my warm up. Tristan walked over and tried to talk to me, but I raised my hand and shook my head.

“You want me to win. No more talking. I have to work now,” I informed him.

He’d had all of my attention for most of the day, and I needed this. It felt like forever since I hadn't run in the morning and I had to burn off some of this stagnant energy.

Tristan nodded in understanding and pointed at his phone. I would call him tomorrow. I needed to get this workout in and then grab a nap. I was exhausted, and the small amount of sleep I had gotten wasn't enough. But it was damn worth it. I’d needed to see her.

I ran hard for forty-five minutes then cooled down for another twenty before showering. I made a quick stop to meet Dad before heading home. We had a brief early dinner and I bolted.

I walked straight to my room when I got home and fell on the bed face first.

While I knew all of the bullshit that went along with a Pay-per-view fight was necessary, I wasn't feeling it. I felt like a puppet. All these pictures and media releases were getting to me. I had to stay focused, eye on the prize, but damn it was hard. I had Zoey on my mind all the time, and then Tristan would call, not to mention Amy was calling too, and Dad was planning my workouts to try and keep me busy.

I’d been in the gym half the day yesterday running the gauntlet. I was shaking from sheer exertion when I was done. Dad had laughed and slapped me on the back, ragging me about getting soft. I wasn't. I wasn't sleeping well. And the three hours I had last night were amazing. I was starting to realize that I wanted Zoey in my bed every night. Her soft body fit perfectly against my hard one—she was made for me. I slept better when she was next to me. I dozed off thinking about her.

* * * * *

My phone rang a few hours later, and I answered.

“Hello?” I said groggily into the phone.

“I’m sorry, love. Were you sleeping?” Zoey asked.

“Yeah.” I laid my head back on the pillow.

“I'll let you go so you can go back to sleep.”

I looked at the time. “No, it's fine. I need to get up and eat and then watch some film before I crash again.”

“I wanted to say thank you for coming last night.”

“I'm glad I came,” I smirked.

“Yeah. I see what you did there,” she said with a chuckle. “And I’m glad for that too. I’ve missed you terribly and maybe seeing you last night made that worse.”

“I get it. I can't wait till this fight is over, and life settles a little. I don't like being away from you.” I sighed.

“I know. If this line takes off, I'll be able to quit my job, and then I can come anytime I want.”

“I can't wait for you to come anytime you want.”

“You, sir, are incorrigible,” she informed me.

“What are you wearing?”

“I am not going there,” she laughed.

“Oh yes, you are,” I said into the receiver. I hung up on her and then went straight for Facetime.

“Are you serious right now?” She smiled. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head, and she looked like ‘the girl next door.’

“You look beautiful.”

Her eyes narrowed in concern. “And you look tired.”

“I may be a little, but I am always down for an orgasm.”

She flushed, one of my favorite things to see her do.

“You just like to watch my face turn red, don’t you?” She gave me that knowing look.

“Maybe,” I answered. “You’re kind of adorable when you get all embarrassed.”

“Lucky for you I love you, mister.”

“Yes. Yes, it is. I’m the luckiest,” I winked at her and she shook her head at me.

“I know you’re tired. Get something to eat and call me before you go to sleep tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.” I blew her a kiss then disconnected the call. I flopped back on the bed and closed my eyes.