“Mostly. A lot of underground fighters are like bored businessmen. Some of them are former big men on campus who’ve just gone to college or got a job and realized that all the high school glory doesn’t carry over. Sometimes you’ll meet up with another trained fighter, but rarely because there are more legitimate big money opportunities now with network contracts.” Noah went over to the strange contraptions, checked things and moved on, like he was executing a mental to do list.
“So why not just fight underground all the time?” I asked, still unconvinced.
“Not enough paying fights. It’s really random. Some guy has to find a place for us to fight and then you have to get three or so fights together to make it worthwhile. And, frankly, it’s getting harder and harder to find people willing to fight against me because I’ve been winning. We’re making less money on bets too, because the odds are low.”
It was all about the money for Noah.
“So you’re like a girl stripping to pay for law school only you’re fighting for money?” I asked.
This made him laugh. “I guess so. Never thought of it that way.” Noah set down his knife. “You don’t have to worry about me, Grace. I can take care of myself. Plus I’m trying to do only sanctioned events now.”
I bit back more dire warnings and instead asked, “Do you have any fights coming up?”
“No. I’m trying to get on the undercard for Vegas. There are some scouts from the UFC supposedly coming to a smoker in October.” Noah scooped up the rest of the berries and placed them in a cooler. After taking off his apron and hair protection, he came over to lean against the table next to me.
“And that is?”
“A smoker is an informal tournament. You’re mostly fighting members of your gym or maybe some other gym. Everyone uses protective gear. Most of those who attend will be other fighters, but it’d be okay if you come, if you want,” he offered.
“Um, sure.” I wasn’t sure I was ready to see Noah get punched or kicked. I didn’t think it would look good if I was cringing and flinching at every blow. “So what do you do now?”
“Train, study, loiter in the library in hopes that I run into this girl I’m crazy about,” he said with a sudden grin. He pulled off my hairnet and reached behind me to untie the knot in the apron, pulling my body lightly against his.
The statement and the contact made me both blush and smile. I tried to change the subject while inwardly hugging the words close. He’s crazy about me. “Grappling sounds kind of kinky,” I teased, turning the subject back to fighting.
Noah laughed. “Yeah, there was a big article in a magazine that said MMA was the gayest sport. A bunch of guys rolling around on the floor wrapping their arms and legs around each other in order to get the other person to submit. Also guys always try to grab your sack.”
“I can’t tell if I’m getting turned on or off by the prospect of you and another ripped guy feeling each other up,” I said, pondering images of Noah rolling around on the ground with another guy, all sweaty and delicious.
“Let me know when you come to a decision,” Noah nudged me in the shoulder as he directed me to the exit.
“Oh, I will.”
Noah dropped me off at my apartment. “I’d kiss you, but then I don’t think either of us would make it to class this morning,” he said ruefully, opening the door and helping me out. He gave me a quick, chaste kiss on the forehead, and I ran to make my first class.
Later, I met Lana for lunch. When she walked into the QC Café, she looked terrible, which for Lana is usually only one step down from show-stopping gorgeousness. Today, she appeared more like a bedraggled kitten left out in the rain too long. Her long blonde hair hung haphazardly around her face, and I could see slight smudges beneath her eyes. I half rose to hug her, but she waved me off.
“What’s wrong?” I asked before she was fully seated.
She threw her messenger bag into an unoccupied seat and sighed, “Peter came over last night.”
“What did he want?”
“Apparently he wanted to explain how his fling was a meaningless mistake. He is so very sorry and didn’t tell me because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings over something he had decided was so trivial.”
“Did you hit him, or can I do it later today?” I couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy.
“I know, right? I told him that I didn’t believe him and maybe called him a few names. He said I was a shrew who was more interested in fucking herself than any guy and then it just went downhill.” Lana looked disappointed in herself. She didn’t like losing control like that. The fact that she did suggested she was more hurt about Peter’s infidelity than she had originally let on.