I had heard that many professional fighters preferred to have their own home gym. That sounded like an interesting concept, but there were two major facts getting in my way from experiencing that particular joy.

The first of the major considerations of why I could never make do in a home gym became blatantly obvious when I opened my eyes and rolled over to turn off the alarm. The small bedroom of my apartment was enough to live in comfortably, and enough to have the standard furniture that a one bedroom apartment needed, but that was about it.

Sitting up, I could see the light from the living room pouring into my bedroom from the open door and I tried to picture filling up the living room with gym equipment. I'd have to clear out the sofa, TV stand, and television. I'd also have to remove the small desk that sat in the corner of the living room. Would I have enough room then for a proper home gym? It was unlikely. At best, I could fit maybe two decent machines in there, or maybe three if I was trying to cram in as many small machines as possible. It might have been enough to include a cardio machine and two small weight machines, but that simply wasn't enough to keep me in the type of condition that I needed to be in for my job.

As an MMA fighter with multiple championships under my belt, I definitely loved my job. It paid well, too. It wasn't as though I was scrambling for paychecks the way beginner level fighters were. I could have afforded a larger apartment. But this was the one I'd chosen when I'd moved out of the house I'd shared with my ex two years ago, because it had been what I could afford back then.

The idea of moving out into something else was probably the adult and responsible thing to do. Stable adults put down permanent roots somewhere without fearing that those roots would be jerked up and away with a solitary bad text.

Luckily, I was still young and had plenty of time to get my adult life together. Even at twenty-four years old, I still felt like I had all the time in the world.

I got up quick, making my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. There wasn’t really any point in getting a shower since I planned on working up a thorough sweat during my workout. . The people at the gym would be the first ones to have to deal with me for the day, after all.

That was another reason that I enjoyed going to the gym. I liked to pretend to be strong, not needing the basic human interaction that everyone craves, but I'm an omega. Everyone knew that omegas craved human interaction. Not that I liked to advertise that I'm an omega. That would be career suicide for someone trying to remain on top of my current MMA winning streak.

But the basic human interaction that I craved would be missing at a home gym, because there was nobody there to share it with. The empty bed I woke up in was a constant reminder that I was stuck in a rut.

I liked getting my human interaction at home, and there was a time in which that had been possible. There was a time in which I had a full lower level of a ranch style house on the outskirts of Raleigh that I had happily shared with my boyfriend. But that had been a lifetime and one cheating revelation ago.

Packing the things I needed for the gym, I thought about the day’s schedule and the appointment I had scheduled to end the day right. The upcoming event was definitely one that I was feeling anxious about, but at the same time, highly looking forward to. I had been craving an experience like that for longer than I wanted to admit and for far longer than I had been free to make an appointment.

I finally gave in to the curiosity of it all and had a feeling it was going to be an experience unlike anything I had every even imagined. I couldn’t deny that I was both nervous and excited about my upcoming appointment and it was heavy on my mind as I gathered my things and left the apartment.

I didn't bother with breakfast; there was a corner stand that sold great corner smoothies across the street from the gym that worked great for the post-workout hunger pangs. It was definitely an opportunity to unwind after my workout and before my morning appointment.

The sun was still working on rising when I left the house, and I tried to take stock of the beautiful hues in the sky as a way to calm my nervousness.

As I opened the door of my car, I could see my neighbors getting out of theirs. I didn't know them very well, but I knew they'd recently had a baby. As I got into the front seat and adjusted my seat belt, I could see them lifting their baby out of the car seat. As far as I could see, they looked very happy.

Bitterly, I thought about how that wouldn't last. One of them would cheat, and their happy little relationship would fall completely apart. That's how "love" worked.

Once arriving at the gym, I headed straight for the lockers. I paid a little extra for my own locker because as a professional fighter, I was definitely here enough. There were lockers for the plebeians who came in once or twice a week, and those types could just use the communal lockers. They were smaller, and I liked having the extra room for when I had to change into "grown-up" clothes for meetings or... appointments.

As I was shutting and locking my door, I heard a familiar voice coming up behind me. The hand of Terrance Williams came up to grip my shoulder and I stifled a sigh, but allowed it.

"Eric Hitch!" Terrance did not so much say his greeting as he screamed it. Everything Terrance did was well over-the-top, but I supposed his general tendency to overreact was reasonable, if I considered his current career prospects. Already in his late 20s, Terrance had yet to win an MMA title, even though he'd been trying to score a win since he was younger than I currently was.

The MMA crowd could be brutal and unforgiving. I knew I was fortunate to have such a great group of people at HIT, but even though Terrance and I shared HIT as a work place, most of their attention was going to be focused on the younger fighter. That didn't make them the bad guys in my opinion; it was just pure logical business sense. They would side with the younger fighter who still had a career ahead of him, not someone who was pushing 30 without any championships under his belt, which made Terrance's occasional bouts of "friendliness" something that I never quite trusted. Maybe he wanted to be a good guy, but he'd been petty and vicious enough in the past that I couldn't help but be cautious.

Still, there was no reason to be rude... yet.

"Hey, Terrance. Come to get a workout in this early?"

Terrance gave my shoulder a squeeze that was far too familiar for my taste, but I let it pass. I glared at him until he removed his hand from my shoulder.

"This late in the day? No, my workout is already over. Who works out this late in the morning? It's a sign of being awfully not dedicated if you don't get up before dawn to get to the gym, don't you think?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. On days that I didn't have a fight, I had a full twenty-four hours to do whatever I pleased and train however I wanted. Why would I get up before I had to, just to fit some stereotype about fighters getting up at the crack of dawn?

"I don't know, Terrance. I'm not the star of an eighties action movie. I think that there's plenty of hours in the day to get in a good work-out. I don't think rising before the birds is a requirement for our field."

Was I being catty? I wasn't trying to be, but I had no patience for fighters who had a superiority complex about their training routines.

Terrance's nose wrinkled, as though he had smelled something particularly distasteful. "I suppose we don't all have the same level of dedication towards our careers," he said, with a voice that I only used when I had to decline the particular culinary crime against humanity that was cooked broccoli.

I wasn't exactly known for reining in my temper, and I was already feeling extra anxious due to the events I had scheduled for the rest of the day. So maybe I wasn't as nice to Terrance as I should have been when I replied.

"My dedication has helped me win three championships so far," I answered. "And has me in line to win a fourth."

There was little doubt of the anger that was going to cross Terrance's face, so I wasn't surprised when his lips thinned and he grasped his hands into tight little fists at his side.

"Well, I wish you all the best, Champion," he hissed through gritted teeth before turning and walking out of the room.

Okay, it definitely wasn't my best moment. But it was hardly his best moment, either, and Terrance wasn't exactly a close friend. He was also exactly the kind of weasel who would try to butter me up at another point in time and get back into my good graces. Maybe when that happens, I'll be more prepared to be nice to the guy.

In the meantime, I have a workout to take care of, and some anxiety about my meeting to work through.

A two-hour workout in the morning was pretty typical for my day. I generally tried to follow it up with at least one hour in the evening, too. To start off, I went through the basics of the warm-up, performing bear crawls, something like high knees, arm circles, and air squats with dumbbells in each of my hands.

It was a good way to fully come awake for the day. People who were not MMA fighters might’ve turned to something like running on the treadmill for an hour, but I needed to build strength, and there wasn’t anything that fully woke my body up for the day quite like the burn that started in my thighs and worked its way up to my shoulders.

As I moved from the warm-up workouts, I placed the dumbbells down and picked up the barbell. I allowed my mind to wander to the appointment that I had in a couple of hours. I was nervous, no doubt about that. But it was something that I had been planning and hoping for since even before I had broken up with the cheating ex two years ago.

Was it weird that I never brought it up to Samuel? Samuel had always just been so incredibly put together and I couldn't imagine that he'd ever want something like...the appointment. He had his whole life sorted out, from a great job and a great house, to an actual five-year plan. He had normal plans and ordinary wants. Our sex had always been very planned. Not that it had been bad, because it hadn't, but it was very much the type of sex I expected to have with someone who enjoyed five-year plans.

Who had a five-year plan? I certainly didn't. I liked to think in the here and now. Planning anything was stressful, other than "I plan to win the next championship to keep up my winning streak."

But Samuel had been different. He'd been so determined to have every aspect of his life accounted for, and I had definitely fallen for that as part of his charm.

Setting the barbells down, I moved through the weight lifting area and into the pull-up bar area. There were several bars and I was thankful to find an empty set. One of the regulars waved at me as I got into position.

"Hitch," Alex greeted. "Still chasing that championship?"

"You know it," I answered as I wiped the bar off and adjusted my hands. "You thinking about joining the competition?"

Alex laughed as he pulled himself up with a grunt. The breathlessness of Mister Tall-Dark-and-Handsome would have been tempting, if I had any reason to still believe in love and happily-ever-afters. At 6'4", Alex definitely took care of himself and there wasn't an ounce of fat on his body. He was pure muscle.

But I tended to prefer the pale, dirty-blond men who liked to curl up on the couch with tea. It was probably just as well.

"No, I do this to look good," Alex retorted. "Getting punched in the face might be fun for you, Hitch, but this face is too fun to look at. I can't risk it getting messed up."

I rolled my eyes, but chuckled a little. It was a pretty okay face. I'd seen better, but it was probably best to not dwell

"That line ever work on anyone else?" I asked him as I hopped onto the bar and began my repetitions.

"It worked on Chester last week, and Leandro the week before," Alex retorted. "Just because you're all work and no play doesn't mean everyone is, Hitch."

"That's why I have those championships, and everyone else doesn't," I answered back.

"Those championships keep you warm at night?" Alex asked, and his tone wasn't cruel, but the words stung regardless.

I ignored the slight pang in my chest and began to focus on my workout. Putting my frustration into my pull-ups was a great way to ignore the fact that Alex had definitely hit home with his comment. I didn't stop my pull-ups until my hair was thick with sweat and my arms were numb.

Later, standing in the shower, I relished the hot water as it poured over me and wiped away every inch of sweat. I tried not to think about Alex's words, which had been intended in jest. Alex didn't know my whole life story, after all, and he had no way of knowing exactly how painful the past two years had been.

But I didn't want to think about that. I had an appointment to keep, and while I'd never experimented with this kind of lifestyle before, I knew that I needed to be fully relaxed to enjoy it as much as I had previously hoped.

To further enjoy myself, I made sure that my protein smoothie had an extra shot of chocolate in it. I wouldn't normally indulge, but it was a special kind of day. A day in which I was going to indulge my kinks for the first time seemed like a good day to add a dash of chocolate into my life.