Worth the fight(67)

Elle doesn’t agree, but Preach thinks the fight will be good for me. We studied Trevor’s last few fights. The kid has improved. A lot. He’s not the same stupid, cocky fighter that he was a year ago. He’s matured, found patience. The fight isn’t as lopsided as we all originally thought, although I’d be fooling myself if I pretended that what happened with his brother didn’t factor into the League’s decision on who to match up for the championship fight. My fights are always profitable for the League, a sellout. But I can’t remember the last time MMA got as much press as it did this week. My face has been plastered on mainstream news, not just the channels dedicated to sports.

I lift her onto the island counter as I make dinner. She’s still wearing her work clothes and I’m definitely not prompting her to change. I like her in the smart looking crap she wears. It’s a turn-on, almost like fucking the hot librarian, only better because it’s Elle.

Some guys won’t have sex before a fight, they think the pent up frustration gives them an edge. Me, I prefer not to fight with blue balls. I’ve never been one to look for an angle. I study my competitor. I work my ass off training. I fight hard. I’m good. It’s as simple as that. Plus, looking at Elle swinging those long damn legs propped up on my kitchen counter, there’s not much of a chance where things are going to go later. I look at her and she smiles. It’s that damn goofy grin. It may be sooner, rather than later.

***

After we finish dinner, I can see something is on Elle’s mind. I’ve said it before, but for a lawyer, she’s pretty easy to read. And a crap liar. “What’s going on, Babe?”

Her eyebrows pull together and shift down, her face telling me she isn’t even aware that she’s showing her hand. “Nothing…what do you mean?”

“Something’s bothering you.”

Her face relaxes a little, but there’s still tension underneath her forced smile. “No…I’m fine.”

“Shit liar, Babe. I told you that.”

She smiles. “Maybe I’m just a little nervous.” She holds up her two fingers, measuring a small space between them to indicate she’s just a tiny bit nervous. Her fingers may say a little, but her face screams much more.

Elle goes to sit next to me on the couch, but I grab her arm and pull her down on to my lap instead. “What are you nervous about?”

She rings her hands together, looking down, avoiding my eyes. I lift her chin, forcing her eyes to mine and repeat myself. “What are you nervous about?”

“The fight.”

“Okay.” I brush the hair away from her face, she looks worried, almost vulnerable. “I’m not going to get hurt, I can take this guy, Babe.”

Nervously, she bites her bottom lip. I’m off base. There’s more to the worry resonating from her. “I know. I mean, I’ll always worry about you getting hurt. I can’t help that. But…” She hesitates, considers her words.

“What then?”

“I know you and Preach think winning this fight will help you get past things, but I’m worried that it will bring it all back. I’ve seen him. He looks like his brother.”

She’s right, he does. He looks just like Frankie. It’s like some sort of twisted fate fucking with me. And I’ve worried about the same thing. But I can’t allow that to control me anymore. I push it to the back of my mind and keep it there each time it finds its way to the surface. It’s all about control. Martial arts is as much about the mind as it is the body. Both must endure, submit to complete control. Work together.

“Preach thinks winning the fight will help me get past things. But I already know what it takes. And you’ve brought me further along in the last two months than a year and a half of trying to work it out on my own ever did. Before I met you, I was hitting my head against a concrete wall, going nowhere fast. Only I didn’t know it. Didn’t even realize I was stuck, until I met you and took that first step.” Elle gives me a hesitant smile. Some of the worry disappears from her face…but not all of it. So I go for broke, being the fucking sap this incredible woman has made me into.

“When we met, we were two injured souls. Both keeping the real out of our lives for fear of what we might find. But nothing could have kept us apart. I never believed in destiny. Thought that was a bunch of crap for people who read too many books. Until I met you. You’re it for me, Babe. I didn’t even know I was missing something until I found you, but now I don’t know how I got through a day without what you’ve given me. You’re my soul mate. As sappy as it sounds, it’s god damn true. Nothing has ever been truer in my life. So no, I’m not worried about this fight not helping me heal from my past, because it’s you who does that for me. You’ve filled all the cracks in my heart and made me better. I never thought I’d say this after what I went through, but I’m the luckiest bastard on this earth.”