Shifting Gears: The Complete Series (Sports Bad Boy Romance) (65 page)

Once again, Sam had gotten us great seats.
The cage was right in front of us and I debated whether having such a good view
was a good thing or a bad thing. I glanced around as the other seats filled up
as well. There was electricity in the air that was almost palpable. The crowd
was fired up and ready for this fight to start. They were loud and while we
waited I heard at least three separate opinions about the fight. The consensus
seemed to be that Paul was going to get his ass kicked. I wasn’t sure if I was
still mad at him or not, but I was sure that I hoped they were wrong.

When the announcer stepped into the middle
of the octagon with the referee and announced Paul’s name, I held my breath. I
watched as he not so much as walked as he did strut down the center aisle. He
looked completely focused and the upheld palms and fists went completely
ignored as he brushed past them. He stepped inside the cage and suddenly
appearing to realize there was a crowd watching him he did a three-sixty and
lifted a gloved hand up in greeting.

Next, it was Devon’s turn. He came out
looking like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky. He was almost dancing and throwing
out punches. He shorts were white again and his dark olive skin was so shiny
under the harsh lights that it looked like someone had poured oil over it. He
bounced into the cage with a grin and unlike Paul, played to his fans. He
jogged around the octagon blowing kisses and waving as the announcer read off
his stats. It was an impressive list.

The announcer finally got out of the way
and the two fighters were called out to the middle. The ref did his thing and
the men hit their gloves together and went right into it. They began to rotate
around each other, each one no doubt strategizing in his head. Paul threw the
first punch, a jab from his right side, aimed directly at the side of Devon’s
head. Devon proved he had lightning reflexes. As one hand came up to block Paul’s
punch the other shot around and landed on the side of Paul’s face. I winced as
his head swung around at an awkward angle. He staggered back, but was quick to
right himself back up on his feet. He moved around a bit, looking like he was
still trying to regain his footing and surprised Devon with a roundhouse kick
that landed on the other man’s left flank. Devon stumbled, but only
slightly…otherwise he looked unfazed.

 
That was when I think Paul decided to take a
big chance. He took a step forward. The step alone had power in it and Devon
wasn’t expecting it. Paul grabbed his arms and to keep from going down, Devon
threw his forehead forward, slamming it into Paul’s. Paul didn’t seem to loosen
his grip at all as they danced around together in a circle. Devon had a hold of
Paul’s arms now and they were each trying to get the upper hand. The crowd was
screaming, some for Paul and some for Devon. I saw Paul’s foot move out to the
side and he did a quick sweep, knocking Devon off his feet. They went down
together hitting the mat with a thud. They were both scampering, trying to get
up on their knees. Paul was on his first and as soon as he was, he threw an
elbow that Devon rolled out from underneath. As Paul’s elbow slammed into the
mat Devon, on his knees now, jumped onto his chest. Paul didn’t stop moving and
I saw his knee come up and connect with Devon’s ribs. The other fighter rolled
off and tried to scramble back to his feet, but before he could, Paul was on
his back. The bell rang then and both men went back to their sides of the
octagon. Paul had definitely won that round.

The ego part of me wondered if he knew I
was here. The stubborn part of me wanted to say that it didn’t matter. He
didn’t call and tell me he was going to be here, so why should I care? I did
care though and I wondered what that said about me. When they went back out for
the second round the look on Paul’s face was nothing less than pure
determination. He came out fighting, looking like he planned on winning this in
as few rounds as humanly possible. Devon looked determined as well, but he
didn’t seem to have the same fire in his eyes as Paul did. They exchanged a few
punches and kicks before once again; Paul managed to sweep Devon off his feet.
This time as they fell, Paul grabbed him from behind so that they would go down
with Paul on his back. He had his left arm around Devon’s neck as they hit the
mat with his elbow just above his trachea.

Paul reached out with the hand around
Devon’s neck and grabbed hold of his own right arm. Squeezing the bicep he
forced his hand down so that it was behind Devon’s head and brought his elbows
together. It was a picture perfect example of a rear naked choke hold. I was
proud of him.

The only problem I could see was that Paul
was struggling to get his legs in place. He was trying to get his shims under
Devon’s knees so that he could use them as hooks to control his legs but Devon
wasn’t going to easily give up the only part of his body he was still
controlling. He used the power in his legs and hips to lift them almost
completely off the ground. It was risky because as they slammed down into the
mat, Paul’s arms could have as easily tightened across his trachea as they
could have slipped off. It took Devon three tries and it looked like it may be
the last one he had in him as he slammed down hard and Paul’s hand slipped just
enough to give him the wiggle room to slip free. He was still gasping for air,
but that at least gave Paul a chance to get back on his feet. As soon as Devon
was on his, he showed the crowd how he’d gotten his stellar reputation. He
unleashed a series of punches and jabs and kicks on Paul that nearly took him
back down to the mat before the buzzer finally sounded. That round went to
Devon. Paul looked exhausted, but thankfully so did his opponent.

The third round began almost identically
to the last. They circled around each other, throwing punches and jabs and I
could see Paul glancing down at Devon’s feet every few seconds, plotting out
when to take him down. He was moving slower this round; the fatigue was
apparent in his face as the sweat rolled off of it and splashed to the floor.
He finally got ahold of Devon and tried sweeping him off his feet again. Devon
twisted loose and stepped back too quickly for Paul to catch him. When that happened
I realized suddenly that Paul’s pretty blue eyes were no longer in the
cage…they were focused on me. As much as I wanted him to notice me…I wanted
even more for him to refocus on the fight. Devon noticed his momentary lapse of
focus. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough.

Devon wrapped his arms around Paul’s chest
and took him down to the mat, hard. He had his knees on either side and was
just about to come down with a hammer when Paul twisted his body enough to
catch hold of Devon’s arm. Devon was still on top of him, but Paul hadn’t let
go of his arm and the more he tried to move, the tighter of an arm lock Paul
ended up having on him. Before long, Paul was in the dominant position and
Devon’s arm was twisted back at an unnatural angle. It looked like it was about
to snap off in Paul’s hand. The crowd was ridiculously loud now and Devon had
to be thanking God that the ref was paying attention because he certainly
couldn’t have heard the tap. The poor guy looked like he was in agony, like it
took every ounce of energy left in him as he lifted his free hand up off the
mat just enough to drop it back down twice. He tapped out, he was done. Paul
let go of him and stood up. Devon’s trainer was tending to him now and the
referee was holding Paul’s arm in the air as they announced him as the winner.

Paul’s last name echoed through the
building both from the microphone and the chanting of the excited crowd. His
manager opened the cage door and as Paul stepped out with a huge smile pasted
across his face, he was rushed by hordes of people taking pictures and
thrusting paper, notebooks and even body parts at him to sign. He looked a
little dazed and I wasn’t sure if it was from the fight or all the lights going
off in his face. He tried to stop and sign a few autographs but his manager
took hold of his arm and propelled him forward. I watched as they stopped at
the back where a podium was set up and the manager told the reporters that had
gathered there he would be available for a “few” questions. The reporters were
all yelling at him at once and the manager pointed at them one at a time and
they asked their questions. They were all along the same lines…How does it
feel? Where do you go from here? Paul answered them all, still with the huge
smile on his face.

“Mr. Delport, you’ve been named by several
people as the biggest threat to MMA champion Trent Jones, what do you think
about that?”

“I think I hope he’s been eating his
Wheaties because I’m coming…”

The next few questions were about Trent
Jones and Paul answered them all with confidence. I could tell when he’d had
enough though. He looked at his manager and the man said, “I’m sorry ladies and
gentlemen but that’s all for now.” His manager stepped back towards the locker
rooms but instead of following him, Paul stepped down towards the reporters and
began moving forward through the crowd. He looked like he was coming towards me
but I didn’t want to get too excited until suddenly I was in his arms and his
mouth was covering mine. I parted my lips and let his tongue seek mine out and
we kissed like no one was watching. When he finally pulled back and we were
both struggling for breath we realized we were being jostled by the crowd.

“Maybe we should move some place a little
less crowded.” I smiled and nodded and he took my hand, leading me with him to
the back.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Once we were in the back in a little room
near the lockers, Paul kissed me again. This time when we came up for air he
said, “I missed you.” Those simple three words…and the kiss melted the ice that
had begun to gather around my heart.

“I missed you too!” We kissed again and he
said, “I’m going to hit the shower really quickly. Will you go celebrate with
me then?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

I went back out front and visited with my
friends who had gathered outside talking. Debbie and Victoria were both giving
me the “look.” It was the one that said as soon as we had a chance, they wanted
to know what was going on with me and Paul. I felt like I couldn’t stop
smiling. Either the electricity in the air had affected me as well, or it was
just having Paul back. When he came out front he was dressed in a white t-shirt
and jeans and he looked good enough to eat. He draped his arm across my shoulders
as he said hello to everyone.

“Great job, man. Where the hell have you
been though? We almost put out a missing person’s on you?” Greg was only half
kidding. They had all been really worried.

“Thanks. I had some family stuff to tend
to. It was last minute.”

“Glad to have you back,” Sam said. “That
was…I’m speechless.”

Paul thanked him and then Greg said,
“We’re headed to the Sport’s bar, are you two game?”

Paul looked at me and the look that passed
between us said it all. He turned back to Greg and said, “Thanks man, but
Jessie and I have some celebrating of our own to do.”

We got stopped at least six more times on
our way to the parking lot and his truck by people who wanted autographs. When
we were finally inside and alone he reached over and pulled me into him and
kissed me again. “I missed you,” he said again.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I had to ask.

“I was getting Marie and Victor settled.
I’m sorry. It’s just been a hell of a week. I almost skipped the fight but I
refuse to let fear of that muscle headed ex-boyfriend of my sister’s ruin
anything else in my life. This is my dream and I’m going after it.”

“I’m glad. Does Mitch know you’re back?”

“Yeah. I had some big guys that I know
playing bouncers tonight…watching for him. I just talked to one of them; they
had to throw him out early in the fight.”

“Oh wow. I didn’t even see him.”

“Good. I hope you never have to see the
fucker again. What do you want to do tonight?”

“It’s your night. You pick.” He kissed me
again and said, “I want to spend it with you.”

“My mother is at my apartment…”

“That’s okay,” he said, starting the
pick-up. “I have a better idea.” He drove us downtown to an area where there
were some really nice hotels. I was a little disappointed, I thought he was
taking me to some crowded bar or club. Instead, we drove up in front of one of
the nicer ones…a five star if I’m not mistaken. He grinned at me and jumped
out, handing the keys to the valet. The other valet opened my door and Paul was
there to help me out. He handed the valet a twenty and said, “We’ll be staying
for the night.”
 

I stood silently, a little shocked as he
got us a room and asked them to have a bottle of champagne brought up. He took
my hand and led me to the elevator and once the door slid shut he pulled me in
for a sweet, soft kiss. It was all lips and he was looking into my eyes the
whole time. I was suddenly burning up.

We got off the elevator onto the fifth
floor. The carpeting was so thick and soft that I was actually sinking down to
it as he led me to our room. I looked around as he slid the key card in the
door. There were Louis IV chairs and Persian rugs in the little sitting area
and really nice, expensive looking vases sitting on the glass tables. I
followed him into the room and when the door shut behind us he used his body to
gently nudge my back up against the door. This time, he really kissed me. I
parted my lips and he licked my top one before sliding his tongue in to meet
mine. We languidly tasted each other as he ran his hand through my hair. I felt
his fingers kneading my scalp gently and then sliding down to my neck. His
other hand found mine and he held onto it as we kissed. I felt like I couldn’t
breathe and I didn’t care if I died of asphyxiation right then and there.