Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ryder

“I don't know how to get under that jab. He’s a bit taller than me, and if I move this way, he’ll hit me here.” I moved and then placed Bret’s hand against my cheek.

“I see that, but you have to move and maybe take the hit to get the advantage.”

“I’m a little concerned about taking that hit from him and staying on my feet.”

“Well, if you don't, there’s nothing you can do to get the positioning you want. I'm sure he’s studied you as much as you have him and him not expecting you to take it would be an advantage for you.”

I understood what Bret was saying, but at the same time, I wasn't so sure that he was right. If I took a jab to the face at just the right angle from someone who can hit as hard this guy could, it could be lights out for me. I didn't want to go out on a TKO in my first title fight. I had never been knocked out, and I didn't want to start now. Not only would it change my chances, it would also possibly knock me out of contention for a while if I got a concussion.

“Let's work this over again. Steve, get in here and do this move,” Bret called out over his shoulder.

I was dripping sweat and wiping at my forehead when I heard Tristan’s voice. I didn't have time to talk to him, nor did I want to. I was working hard to stay in the zone and not think about Zoey, and then he popped up with Amy in tow. I knew they had a meeting with Zoey tomorrow. I guessed they grabbed the train to come out and check on me.

I thought about Zoey and it was all over. I pulled back and stepped toward the ropes and leaned over them, looking down at Tristan. Amy smiled and waved. I dipped my chin and smiled. Tristan was talking on the phone, I assumed to Drake by the conversation. Drake was a little needy at times, it seemed.

“Yes, it's all handled,” Tristan said. “All you have to do is show up. Your tux needs to be fitted again since you gained that extra weight, but that should only take about an hour. Don't thank me, thank Amy since you use her as your personal assistant.” He paused, listening. “Yeah, next time ask Peyton. She’s your wife for Pete’s sake. I'll be in touch in a few days. Bye.” I watched as he looked over his phone, completely oblivious that I had stopped and was watching him.

“Amy, did you make sure—”

“Yes.” She answered before he finished his sentence. I’d noticed before that she rarely let him finish a sentence because she already had everything done, sometimes before he even asked her to do it. It was amusing, and even though they thought no one really knew about them, I was fairly certain that everybody did. Everyone let them keep believing their relationship was on the down-low, but once you had sex with someone, you couldn't help but be different around each other.

Tristan continued to look down at his phone until he realized that everyone was quiet. He looked up and then shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Good morning, Ryder. How is everything going?”

“Good.”

“Do you have a little time today that we can sit down and chat?”

“I'll be done here around noon, and then I'll have some time.” I pushed between the ropes, hopping down in front of him. Tristan was a formidable man, but he was still smaller than me. I looked down at him, and he took some paperwork out of Amy’s hand and handed it to me.

“Take a look at this and make sure it’s all doable. There are some things that the Pay-per-view people want you to do beforehand, and I think most of it can be done but I'm not fully aware of your schedule, so I need you to check it out.”

“Okay, I’ll call my dad and have him meet me at the restaurant. Is that all?”

“Yeah. We’ll leave you to it,” Tristan said, extending his hand.

I took it and then released it and patted Amy on the arm. “It was good to see you,” I said before turning and jumping back into the ring. I laid the paperwork on the corner before returning to face my sparring partner.

We worked for another hour, and then I hit the shower and got cleaned up. I texted Dad so he’d know to meet me and Tristan at the restaurant. A little while later, we were all there.

“It's good to see you, Tristan,” my father said as they shook hands. Dad winked at Amy, and I moved toward the front to give them my name.

“When are you going to see that this man isn't the one for you?” Dad started in on Amy. “I have this beautiful home that needs a beautiful woman.”

I laughed. “Don't worry, Tristan, he asks Zoey to marry him every time he sees her.” I jabbed Tristan in the arm.

He laughed. “There is no way in hell that I would ever let her move out here. I need her too much.” Tristan pulled Amy away from my dad and under his arm.

I smirked at my dad.

“It's worth a shot. Good quality women are hard to find,” Dad chided.

They called my name and Tristan put his hand on Amy’s back as they led us toward a table. It made me miss Zoey even more. I already had given a lot of thought to asking Zoey to move here. I knew it was quick, but I didn't care. I needed her with me.

It was a strange feeling when I needed someone more than I wanted them. All the women before had been a passing want. But Zoey was a want a straightforward need. The feeling had blindsided me, and at first, it scared me. But when I actually let go of the fear, I had totally let the warm fuzzies fly.

Dad had been relentless with the teasing but let me know that he’d done the exact same thing with my mother. I knew they’d had a real, tangible love and I wanted that—more than anything. I’d thought my main goal was the title, but that had become the means to an end for me. Fighting was my job and a way for me to take care of the family I hadn’t even realized I’d wanted until recently—a family with Zoey. Feeling those goals change was weird, to say the least.

“You there?” Tristan’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I grumbled.

“Leave him alone, he was thinking about Zoey,” Amy smiled at me.

I gave her a strange look.

She explained, “You went all starry-eyed, so I assumed.”

Tristan cleared his throat impatiently. “So, here’s the deal. We need to shoot three different commercials. “They’ll be used in advertisements for the fight. I have set those up, and they’ll be filming your parts here in the afternoons next week.” He turned to Amy. “Can you have the shorts he’ll be wearing for the fight ready by then?”

“Yes. They should be delivered Monday.”

“Okay, so make sure you have those with you for the shoot. They’ll film first and then do the stills. There’ll be a crew here, so try to make sure the gym is closed down for a few hours. The fewer eyes, the better. You might want to make sure Zoey’s here for the day, too.” He stopped and looked at me. “But I need you focused as we are getting to the wire here. I’ve been talking to Bret, and he has your workout schedule set for the next few weeks.”

“You know I can do all these things, but I’m thankful that you’re so invested,” I told him.

“I’m here to make sure you get the things you want and deserve. It's my job. Your dad has been an intricate part in making all of this happen and has approved multiple things that I couldn't get through you.”

My dad beamed with pride.

Tristan continued, “We’ve discussed payment, and if all goes well, you’ll receive high six figures, maybe even seven when you win.”

I knew there was big money in my future as a fighter, but I wasn't expecting it to happen this fast. I could do all the things I needed to do, and there was still the clothing line that we would get money from. It was all surreal to see all of my hard work paying off.

The conversation went from subject to subject, but wasn't really about the fight. It was nice to simply have dinner with people and not have to worry about anything. Tristan had everything taken care of, and all I had to do was show up. It seemed to be the way things would always be. He was more than I had expected, and with Amy and Zoey being friends, it was even better than I had imagined. Without Amy, Zoey wouldn't be in this. But Amy had seen Zoey’s talent and had made a job for her that could launch her career. There was nothing that I could do to thank Amy enough for that.

We finished up, and Tristan and Amy went on their way. I offered to take them to the train station, but they’d already made arrangements for a ride.

As they drove off, Dad threw his arm over my shoulder and said, “I think you signing with Tristan’s firm was the best decision you ever made.”

“I think you might be right.”