In the ninth round, with two minutes to go, I saw her. Cin had actually come to my fight.

I’d looked for her before that, of course, in the motley roaring crowd. I’d looked for the heart shape of her face, that bow-lipped smile. Amidst the fight itself, every three-minute round a cold eternity of ducks, swipes, hits and blocks, she’d returned fleetingly, the question strangely removed: Would she come or wouldn’t she?

As my opponent, Fernando, got me in a chokehold, the slick tattooed sea of faces on his forearm all I could see, I knew. Winning was no longer just a matter of pride, of maintaining my winning streak. It was a matter of absolute necessity. No way was I letting Cin see me lose.

The next few minutes were pure adrenaline. Fernando was surprised, taken aback at my sudden adrenaline, like I’d gotten a shot of caffeine straight to the bloodstream. Really, it was pure desire. I was going to win this fight, and I was going to get the girl. Two for two.

And so, the crowd roared and the swipes came, and I was pure electricity, dealing out blows every which way. For the first time, my once-heavy boxing gloves weighed nothing. When my hit to the side of his head came and, finally, the other man fell to the ground and didn’t get back up, I hardly heard the room bellowing and the music thumping victory. I only saw amidst the faces, beside my brother – her.

Out of the ring, I was thronged by the usuals, fans and managers alike.

A tap on my shoulder was Owen, grinning. He threw his arms around me into a hug. “For a while there, I thought-”

“That I was just saving myself for the end?” I cut in.

He laughed. “Some guys are saying you took a hit of something partway, the way you made that insane comeback.”

I glanced at Cin, who I now noticed was beside him. “Guess something made me more inspired, is all.”

She was smiling, although it looked like she wasn’t sure she should be. As Owen went over to talk to the other guy’s manager, I grinned at her.

“So?” I said. “That was your first fight, right?”

She nodded.

“And you hated it.”

Her blush deepened but her head shake was firm. “No, actually. I thought I would, but it was exciting. You were incredible.”

“Incredible enough to warrant a drink?”

Just then, Owen returned.

“You’re just in time,” I told him. “I was just asking Cin out for a drink, and she was just saying…”

Both of us glanced to her.

“Yes,” she said.

A second adrenaline rush went through me as my gaze pierced into hers – Game on.

“How about that,” I said. “Two victories in one day – not bad.”

Owen grinned, holding his phone. “If you count the fact that the Shore Club just offered us free meals if you go there for your post-win meal, then I’d count that as three.”

I gave a mock-tortured sigh. “You know I can’t resist free food.”

“Speaking of,” Owen said, lifting a familiar rectangle. “Think we really have the lucky fry to thank for this victory.”

I laughed, as Cin peered at the desiccated thing. “Is that…”

“A fry, yeah,” Owen said. “Only it’s lucky.”

“That’s how I won my first fight, all the way back at the tender age of fifteen,” I explained.

As Cin continued eyeing it uncomprehendingly, I clarified, “The guy I was street-fighting, who was kicking my ass and was all set to keep on kicking it, stepped on the fry and slipped.”

“Thus was the lucky fry born,” Owen said, uttering our quote.

“Thus was the lucky fry born,” I repeated.

Cin looked from me to Owen to the fry and burst out laughing.

--

As it turned out, the Shore Club had a whole lot more than just free food. The awed look on Cin’s face was worth it as we walked in, past a light-studded ceiling and chic wood and metal modern booths. Lucky for me, Owen had packed a suit in my gym bag for me to change into after the fight. Cin, however, with her sexy yet casual jeans, hadn’t faired as well.

One step inside, and she was biting her lip. “I’m definitely not dressed for here.”

“Don’t worry,” Owen said, leaning in as if he had a great secret to tell. “Beautiful women get a free pass.”

I clapped my brother on the shoulder. “That’s why Owen here gets away with murder sometimes.”

Owen gazed at me nonplussed. “We are identical twins. If you’re trying to say that I’m a girl, then that means--”

“That I’m awesome?”

“Dude.” Owen let out a much-maligned sigh. “That’s not even funny.”

I shrugged. “I just kicked a guy’s ass, I don’t have to be funny.”

Cin was watching us all with upturned eyes that carried an amused twinkle. “You guys must’ve been a handful when you were young.”

“You’ve no idea,” Owen said, grinning. “Mom practically threw us out of the house, that one time I hid hot dogs all over Jake’s room.”

“Especially after I slipped on one and almost cracked my head open,” I said drily.

“Can you blame me?” Owen said. “After you bleached all my clothes.”

“I warned you not to buy the same sweatshirt as me. That there would be repercussions.”

Cin laughed. “Do you two fight over everything?”

I looked at her straight on. “Not everything. Sometimes we share.”