It was too soon.
I shouldn’t have asked to kiss her. She’s not like other women and I almost blew my chance. Not again, though. I have the perfect date planned for Sunday. One that doesn’t break my bank account, too. She might have given me an out, and that’s probably because she’s not looking forward to spending her day with me, but I’m surprisingly okay with that. Mia’s not an easy target, cynical to the bone, and yet I can’t wait to prove her wrong.
God, that woman. She was hot as fuck fighting against me on the mats. Doing exactly what we had practiced with a confidence that takes most weeks to master. That was probably the biggest turn-on of all. Okay, that and her body is amazing. Curves in all the places a man can’t help but dream of holding tightly while sinking into her sweet, wet center.
That’s exactly what I imagined during my shower before bed, and those same gorgeous curves danced in my dreams through the night. My body was painfully hard and unsatisfied when I awoke Friday morning.
But as much as I’d love to daydream about Mia, I’ve got a whole hell of a lot of work to do before our date. This Friday’s schedule is insane. I teach at the gym, work a full day with the painting crew, and then head back to the gym for a few more hours before catching a bus to Zig’s. It’s after dark by the time I get there and it’ll be well after three in the morning when I get home. I’m basically running off sheer will and energy drinks at this point. There’s not even a light at the end of the tunnel, because after tonight I’ll be back at the gym by six to teach my early classes. At least tomorrow I’ll get a nap between work and the bar.
I’m about to step foot inside Zig’s when my cell begins to ring. Looking down at the caller ID, I recognize the number and turn back away from the bar, walking a few steps to where there’s less noise before I pick up. It’s the event organizer for the fights in a few weeks. This can’t be good.
“Hello.”
“Matt, it’s Kyle Ramos.” His speech comes in a rush and holds the kind of tone that conveys he’s already done with this conversation.
“Hi, Kyle. How are things going? You ready for a kickass night of fights in a few weeks?”
“That’s what I’m calling to check on. Things going all right at the gym?”
Shit. How is it possible he’d have any idea they’re not? The only person who knows is my brother. My father and uncle might suspect, but neither would have anything to gain by babbling that kind of gossip around town. Clearing my throat, I decide to feel him out before making any admissions. “Things are going stellar. My guy Xavier is ready to take home the W and earn himself a UFC contract.”
“Funny, a few of my guys downtown ran into him a few days ago. Said he looked worked over real good. I’m not saving my main event for someone who’s face looks like he ran into a bus and lost. My fans don’t pay to see that shit.”
That. Okay, not the greatest. Especially now since I’m sure his opposition will get wind of this and use it to his advantage, but this is still better than Spencer knowing my gym is one fight away from going under. “He was jumped. But he’s already back in the gym. He’ll be ready. I promise.”
“They catch the guys?” Kyle’s gonna push for the whole story, but that’s tough luck because it’s not mine to tell. Not to some amateur fight organizer whose daddy’s trust fund pays all the bills.
“No, but you know how it is. They don’t rat. Not from where he’s from.”
“Yeah, yeah. You sure he’ll be ready? Because I got a guy who can step in. One of Shawn Spencer’s guys.”
I laugh, genuinely, because that’s not gonna happen. Not even over my dead body. “Come on, Kyle? Really? You want one of Spencer’s guys over my prized fighter? Do what you gotta do, but we both know that’ll be one hell of a boring match-up. Probably get knocked out in the first thirty seconds. You’ve seen the tapes. You know my guy is destined for greatness.”
“Fine. Xavier’s in, but I’m counting on you, Haywood. Anymore shit like this, or I hear something’s not right, and I won’t hesitate to make the change. I’m doing this because I never believed any of that shit they said about you back in the day. That and you’re a damned good fighter.”
“Then I hope you’re ready to watch this kid fight.” I’m too proud to say thank you, and with people like Kyle Ramos it does no good to grovel or suck ass. He only cares about the bottom line. His events bring the crowds and the sponsors, and I know all of my guys will step it up to another level come fight night.
“Hell, yeah. Venue’s seventy percent sold out already.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“One more thing, Haywood.”
I blow out a breath because, really, could the universe cut me some slack right about now? “What’s that?”
“I might have an opening for a lightweight match-up. Someone green who’s just looking to get his feet wet.” Thank God.
“Crowd warmer. Got it.” I’m already going through my roster of guys. Ricky could probably step up. Either him or Mason. They’re both more than ready.
“I’ll call you within the week, that is if you’ve got someone for me.”
“Oh, I’ve got someone. I have an entire gym of guys chomping at the bit.” I’ve got a couple someones, but all in good time. We just have to show Kyle Ramos the quality fighters South Side Gym produces and everyone wins.
“Good. It’ll be another grand added to what we agreed upon.”
Yeah, that sweetens the pot. Even though the gym gets a cut, that’s still more toward bringing me out of the red. “Consider it done.”
“I sure as shit hope you’re as legit as you preach down there at South Side. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Haywood.”
“Talk soon.”
Kyle ends the call without another word and I rush inside Zig’s for a long night of loud music, mouthy drunks, and bar brawls. Yeah, I need this fight to go my way. I can’t be working security every weekend, not for the long term. For the second time in my life I’m so close to success I can almost taste it. Only this time I won’t fuck it up.