A Fighting Chance (7 page)

He looked so emotionless, she thought. It was as if he were chiseled from stone, and Del decided she didn’t like this aspect of his sport. This wasn’t really her Brendan. This man was a stranger, performing for the people
screaming his name.

As she watched the screen, he pulled back his hood and unzipped the sweatshirt. After pulling out the earbuds, he handed them over to an older man who was wearing a Brendan Quinn T-shirt. Then he pulled his own T-shirt over his head—his muscles rippling as they had last night when he took off his sweater—and the screams of the women in the crowd summed up what she’d been
feeling pretty well.

An official patted him down like he was about to be put in the back of a police car, even checking behind his ears. Brendan bared his teeth, showing off his mouth guard, and then he knocked himself in the crotch a couple of times with his gloved hand.

“Why did he do that?” she asked Janie, her curiosity stronger than her desire to hide her cluelessness.

The
other woman smiled. “Showing that he’s wearing his cup.”

“Do they think a guy would really try to sneak in there without one?”

Janie laughed and then the noise level in the arena surged again as Brendan climbed into the cage. She dropped her gaze from the screen, able to see him without the help of the cameras now. He walked quietly around the perimeter inside the cage, his expression
never changing as the announcer told them he fought out of Boston—which resulted in noise decibels she hadn’t thought possible—and then yelled Brendan’s name in long, drawn-out syllables.

Del cheered with the rest of them and when Brendan made a second lap, she knew the instant he saw her. He didn’t pause, but she practically felt the sizzle as he took in the T-shirt stretched over her breasts,
and she saw the heat flare in his eyes before he moved on.

The lights dimmed and the crowd hushed before another song blared through the speakers. She recognized Bryan Lavaud from the autograph session poster, and he had even more people with him than Brendan had. He bounced his way down the walk, pumping his fists for the crowd. Where Brendan had been cold and distant, this fighter played
up to the crowd and it was obvious they loved him. But not quite as much as they loved the local boy.

After his pat down and introduction, the referee gave them some rules and they tapped gloves. And then it started. As Del watched, her stomach knotted so badly she didn’t think she could even manage a swallow of water, the men circled each other. They threw out some testing jabs, and then
Lavaud swung for Brendan’s head. Brendan dodged it and they circled some more.

Janie’s elbow poked her in the side. “Stop holding your breath or you’ll pass out.”

She nodded and tried to breathe normally, but then she covered her mouth as Lavaud kicked Brendan in the thigh and his leg almost buckled. He retaliated by throwing punches, landing a couple, but then his opponent managed to
sweep his leg out from under him and they were on the mat.

Del yelled at him to get up and then balled her hands into fists as they wrestled. She remembered Brendan telling her Lavaud would try to choke him and she had to tell herself to stop holding her breath three times before Brendan managed to free himself and stand up. He landed a vicious kick to the side of his opponent’s head and
Del gasped again.

They went back and forth, trading blows and kicks and sometimes grappling with each other against the netting before the referee pushed them apart. They went to their corners, and even though she could see Brendan, she looked up at the screens so she could get a close-up.

He didn’t look too awful, she thought. There was a little bit of blood at the corner of his mouth
and it looked like his cheek would be bruised. The camera didn’t show much below the neck, but she knew from watching he’d have some bruises on his body and she didn’t even want to think about what his left thigh would look like. Lavaud had kicked him there several times, trying to make him fall to the mat.

“He’s doing great,” Janie said.

“Really? It’s so hard to know who’s doing better.”

“If I was a judge, I’d score that round a draw.”

“How many rounds are there?”

“Three for the undercard. The later fights go five. So they’re pretty much even after one of three rounds.”

That sounded okay, Del thought, since Brendan was the underdog. He wasn’t winning yet, but he wasn’t losing, either.

She forced herself not to tense up when the men stood and faced off in
the center of the cage again. This round they didn’t waste any time circling. They exploded at each other with fists flying, both of them landing punches. Then they were on the ground and Del yelled for Brendan to get up. Lavaud was trying to twist him up like a pretzel, but then Brendan managed to make a sharp jab with his knee and his opponent’s head snapped back.

Brendan scrambled backward
and found his feet before Lavaud did, and as the crowd roared, he kicked hard at the side of the guy’s head. Lavaud spun. Staggered. And then he dropped, struggling to get up.

Del covered her mouth with her hands as Brendan moved in, but he only got two punches in before the referee shoved him away. Lavaud dropped to the mat, the referee waved his hand and she raised her arms in the air as
she realized it was over.

Brendan had won.

He stood off to one side while Lavaud’s trainer made sure he was okay and, after a minute, helped him to his feet. He looked down the row of seats until he found her and winked, which couldn’t have been easy since his eye looked a little puffy. She blew him a kiss, unable to stop grinning.

Once the men had exchanged words and a quick hug,
then slapped each other on the back, Lavaud left the cage. The announcer did a short interview with Brendan in the center of the cage. It sounded like a standard sports victory speech, but when he kissed his fingertips and pointed out to the crowd, he aimed at her.

“I can’t believe he won by knockout,” Janie said. “I thought he had a good chance at a split decision, but I didn’t expect that.”

Del wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she knew what a knockout was. “What happens now? Does he fight somebody else? Like, somebody better?”

Janie shrugged. “That’s what usually happens. It’s kind of the point for most of them. But Brendan’s stayed local the last couple of years. He doesn’t chase the bigger fights. What’ll probably happen is the promoter will push some story line
about Lavaud for a while and get him a good fight. They’ll build him up and then, if they come back here, offer Brendan a fat paycheck to be part of a revenge thing.”

Del wondered why Brendan didn’t go after bigger fights, but she didn’t want to ask Janie. She wanted to ask him herself. But she wasn’t sure she’d get to see him tonight, since he was probably going to need quite a bit of ice,
after all.

The crowd seemed to be shifting around a lot, and Del picked up her water bottle before somebody could kick it or step on it. Unscrewing the top, she took a long drink and watched the screen flashing a replay of Brendan’s knockout.

“There’s going to be a break and then they’ll start the pay-per-view event,” Janie told her. “Did you want to stay and watch that?”

“Will
Brendan sit and watch it?”

“No, they’re going to go back to the dressing room. He’ll cool down and they’ll make sure he doesn’t need X-rays or anything. There might be some press stuff. Then they’ll go up to one of the hotel rooms and rub him down. Ice him and give him ibuprofen and all that.”

“Oh, so he’ll be with the rest of them?”

“Usually. Eric will want to look him over better
and Jonathan will want to talk business, which Brendan will probably ignore.” She shrugged. “Or at least that’s how it goes with most of them, anyway. This is only the second fight I’ve been assigned to work with Brendan, but they seem pretty typical.”

Del didn’t think there was anything typical about Brendan, but she was probably biased. “I’ll probably leave. I don’t have much interest in
watching anybody else fight.”

“How about we go get a drink somewhere and hit the restrooms? Then once they’re done down here, we can go upstairs and crash the party?”

That sounded like a good plan. “They won’t mind?”

“The others might, but Brendan’s the fighter and I saw him look at you. He won’t mind at all.”

* * *

The adrenaline rush had Brendan pacing the room as he
washed ibuprofen down with half a bottle of water. It wouldn’t do much for the aches and pains he was going to suffer, but the pills would hopefully take the edge off enough so he could sleep. He knew he could get his hands on something stronger, but he hadn’t succumbed to the temptation in the past and he didn’t intend to start now.

The others were still talking about the match, none of
them calmed down enough yet to really pay attention to what Brendan was doing, which was why they weren’t in
his
room. The unexpected win had hyped them all up and when they’d finally left the arena’s staging rooms, he hadn’t objected to the suggestion they head to Eric and Jonathan’s shared room. This way he could leave when he got the opportunity. He knew Eric was going to slap some more ice
on him any minute and then try to talk him into a massage, but he didn’t want any of that. He didn’t know
what
he wanted. He felt restless and caged.

There was a knock at the door and Jonathan went to see who it was. A few seconds later, Janie walked in with Del at her heels. As soon as their eyes met, Brendan felt a rush of adrenaline that had nothing to do with the fight.

Del was exactly
what he needed right now.

He remembered the instant he’d spotted her in the front row, wearing one of his T-shirts and yelling his name. His reaction had been primal—
mine
—and had fueled his desire to take Lavaud down.

“I didn’t think you’d mind if Del said hi,” Janie said.

“Of course I don’t.” He looked around, realizing there were too many people in the room to be able to ask them
to wait in the hall. “Come down the hall to my room and we can talk.”

“We need to get some more ice on that thigh since you haven’t sat still for two minutes yet,” Eric said, always in trainer mode. “He landed some solid kicks.”

Brendan nodded at Eric. “Yeah, I’m aware of that. I just want a couple of minutes and then Del has to go meet her friend, anyway.”

Since there wasn’t anything
they could do to stop him, he gave Janie a smile of thanks and then took Del’s hand. He led her down a few doors and pulled his key card from the pocket of his hoodie. A few seconds later, they were finally alone again.

“Oh my God, your face,” she said, reaching up to run her fingertips gently down his cheek.

He pressed her against the door with his body, a hand on either side of her
head. “It’s fine.”

“Shouldn’t you be lying down or something? Do you need some ice?”

“I need you.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t possibly want to have sex after that.”

“I’d have to take one hell of a beating before I wouldn’t want you.” He kissed her, trying to be gentle—trying to hold himself in check despite the fire burning through his veins.

Too late, he remembered
the cut on his lip and he winced. Then he dropped his mouth to that sweet spot on her collarbone. Her hand fisted in his hair, and he undid her jeans. He was aware of her lifting each foot so she could undo the zippers on the sides of her boots before kicking them away. Then she shoved her jeans and underwear down and flung them aside, too.

After pulling the condom he’d been carrying all
day just in case he found a way to be with her out of the pocket, he shoved his sweatpants and boxer briefs down. It took seconds to put on the condom and then he kissed her once, hard, and split lip be damned.

His hands gripped the backs of her thighs and he lifted her, bracing her against the door.

“I need you so bad,” he said. He heard the roughness in his voice and knew this orgasm
was going to come hard and fast.

Her fingernails big into his shoulders. “Then take me.”

Brendan knew there was no sweeter feeling than sliding his cock into Del’s warmth and he wanted to take his time. But she was so open to him, her legs wrapped around him, and when she tightened them to drive him deeper into her, he almost came right then.

He thrust hard, his hands clutching
her ass to hold her. She reached up, her palms pressed against the door, and he paused long enough to pull one nipple into his mouth and suck hard enough to make her whimper.

Then he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pounded into her, not caring if anybody on the other side of the door heard her shout his name as she came. His muscles tensed and he squeezed the cheeks of her ass as his orgasm
rocked him. She tightened her legs around him, holding him close until the tremors passed.

His knees felt like jelly, but somehow he managed to get them to the floor without falling. She stretched out on top of him, and he wasn’t sure if it was her heartbeat or his he could feel racing. Maybe both, he thought, wrapping his arms around her.

Her phone chimed from the pocket of her jeans,
but she ignored it. He tried to, but he knew that was the text message from Brittany that signaled an end to being alone with Del. Kissing her hair, he held her tight.

After a few seconds, she chuckled and lifted her head to look at him. “This is the first time I’ve ever laid on the floor of a hotel room.”

“Me, too. But I might be here awhile since I’m not sure I can get up,” he said,
which made her laugh. God, he loved her laugh.

Her phone chimed again, and this time she rolled away and reached for her jeans to pull it out of the back pocket. After typing something in response, she gave him a wry smile. “Brittany arrived. She’s checking in and after she gets her suitcase to her room, she’s going to go to mine.”

He pulled off the condom and then yanked his underwear
and sweats up over his hips before rolling to his side to get up. It hurt more than he anticipated, but he bit back the groan so Del wouldn’t worry about him. “I thought you’d sound happier about seeing your friends.”