Page 22 of Between the Ropes

“I know,” I whisper. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Annika quips, her voice light again. “Now, go get yourself a slice of that Ryan Pierce pie. Seriously, the way you talk about him? Girl, you’ve got it bad.”

I laugh again, shaking my head. “We’ll see. But thanks, Annika. I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime. You know I’ve got your back.”

After we hang up, I feel a little lighter. Annika always knows how to put things in perspective, even if she does make everything sound like a rom-com.

I glance at the time and realize I’ve still got a few hours before my first appointment at the arena. I need a distraction, something to take my mind off everything that happened last night. And what better way than to dive into work? I settle into the bed with my laptop and begin to read through my notes.

When I arrive at the arena, it’s still early, and the halls are mostly empty. I make my way to the massage therapy room and start setting up, organizing my equipment and making sure everything’s in place.

My first appointment today is with Chrissy. Thank God. I could really use her positive energy right now.

As soon as Chrissy walks through the door, her face lights up with a big smile. “Morning, Nat! You ready for me?”

“Always,” I reply, grinning as I motion for her to hop up onto the table.

As I start working on her shoulders, she starts talking about the women’s division, how things are really shifting in a positive direction. “I’m telling you, Nat, it’s amazing. The women aregetting more airtime, more storylines, and people are actually starting to take us seriously. It’s about damn time.”

I nod, feeling the tension in my own body start to ease as she talks. Chrissy’s passion is contagious, and being around someone so confident and driven makes me feel a little more empowered myself.

“That’s incredible,” I say. “You deserve it, Chrissy. All of you do. You’re amazing athletes.”

“Thanks,” she says, her voice softening. “It’s just... it feels good, you know? To be part of something bigger, something that’s changing the landscape for women in this business. It’s not just about eye candy anymore. We’re here to fight, to show what we can do.”

Hearing her talk like this makes me feel stronger. Like maybe I can take control of my life, too. Like maybe I can stop running from my past and start embracing my future.

And maybe... just maybe... that future could include Ryan Pierce.

16

I’m in the gym, sweat dripping down my back as I grip the barbell in front of me, my body on autopilot as I push through another set of deadlifts. The weights clank against the ground, a heavy metallic sound that usually drowns out the noise in my head. But not today.

Today, my thoughts are louder than the clatter of iron, louder than the rhythmic pounding of my heart as I crank out rep after rep.

Natalie. I can’t stop thinking about her.

I don’t know what it is—whatsheis—but she’s burrowed herself into my mind, and I can’t shake her. It’s more than just the way she looked last night—though, fuck, that’s part of it. The sight of her vulnerable, her wide eyes locking with mine, the way her voice trembled when she tried to stand up to that piece of shit uncle of hers. She didn’t deserve that. No one does.

But it’s more than that. There’s something about her that pulls me in, something deeper. I want to know what her story is, what she’s been through, why the hell she’s had to deal with someone like him in her life. I want to protect her from it all, even though she’s not mine to protect. Yet the thought of her being mine? It’s intriguing. Hell, it’s more than that. It’stempting.

I grind my teeth, pulling the barbell up to my chest before dropping it back down. The gym’s nearly empty, only a few people scattered around, but I’m not paying attention to anyone else. I’m in my own world, one filled with heavy metal and sweat, with the echo of Natalie’s voice replaying in my head. I need to shake this. I can’t afford to be distracted.

I push through another set, feeling the burn in my legs and back as the weight strains against my muscles. Each rep feels like an outlet, but no matter how hard I push myself, she’s still there, lingering in my mind.

The dumbbells in my hands are familiar, the weight of them comforting as I start into a set of curls, my biceps bulging with each contraction. I catch my reflection in the mirror—sweat dripping down my face, muscles straining under my skin, the tattoos on my arms stretching with each movement. I’m a fucking beast in here. This is my sanctuary, the one place I can control every rep, every set, every inch of progress.

But even here, I can’t control the thoughts racing through my head.

Maybe she’s different. Hell, Iknowshe’s different. There’s something about her that’s soft but not weak, vulnerable but strong at the same time. I’ve sworn off love, relationships—anything that could tie me down. It’s been years since I even entertained the thought of getting close to someone. But with Natalie... maybe she’s the one to pull me out of this.

I clench the dumbbells tighter, my forearms flexing as I bring the weight up, then slowly lower it back down. My breathing issteady, controlled, but my mind is anything but. The feel of her pressed against me when I led her into the hotel last night still haunts me, the way her body fit so perfectly against mine, the scent of her hair lingering in my nostrils.

Would it really be so bad to give things a try? To let myself feel again? Maybe I do deserve something more than just this grind. Maybe everything does happen for a reason, and if things with my ex hadn’t fallen apart, I would’ve never met Natalie. Maybe it's true that everything happens for a reason. I heard that saying so many times when I was going through that breakup, I fucking hated it.

I rack the weights, moving to the bench press, my body a well-oiled machine that knows exactly what to do. My muscles ripple as I position myself under the bar, the weight already loaded up. I don’t hesitate as I push it off the rack and bring it down to my chest, feeling the strain as I press it back up. The intensity of the workout is supposed to clear my mind, but instead, it’s fueling my thoughts.

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