Page 27 of Falcon

I know, without even looking, it’s a fan. I turn toward the voice and see a man, probably early twenties, clearly intoxicated, and give him a nod, acknowledging that I’ve seen him.

Please don’t come over here. Please don’t come over here.

And thankfully, he doesn’t. He continues the opposite way down the street, leaving me alone with my date.

“What’s that like?”

“What?”

“Having people recognize you like that?”

We walk down the sidewalk close together so we can still hear one another speak.

“It doesn’t happen a lot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to be in a position where people want to talk to me sometimes on the street, but there’s a time and a place. I’m thankful he didn’t do more than he did.”

“I don’t think I would like it very much. I’m a private person.”

“So am I, which is why I weigh the pros and cons of my career occasionally. It puts me in the limelight sometimes in a way that, while I eat it up in the moment, isn’t exactly my favorite.”

“Have you ever thought about quitting? Maybe doing something else?”

I let the question swirl around in my brain for a bit before answering.

“I teach self-defense classes at a local rec center every other weekend for little kids and teens. I think if I were to ever stop fighting, that’s what I would want to do.”

And it’s true. I love doing that. It makes me feel like I’m doing something positive with my skills, other than making another grown man bleed in front of ten thousand people.

“Really?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Well, yeah, it does a little. That was honestly the last thing I thought you’d say. I’ve always wanted to take self-defense classes.”

This is it. This is your chance to see more of her, Falcon. Do it.

“Then it’s your lucky day. A professional is willing to train you, for free, for the entire three weeks he’s here.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?” She stops in the street and turns to face me.

“Of course, I would. Who better to teach you than me? I am a two-time heavyweight champion, after all.”

She rolls her eyes and grins. “There’s the arrogance. I wondered if you had lost it there for a minute.”

“Never. That will always stay firmly intact.”

She gives me the most beautiful laugh before turning on her heel and heading through the door of the ice cream shop.

The evening passes easily. There isn’t a single moment of awkwardness or hesitation. It’s like I’ve known this woman for years, and as we pull back into the shared driveway of her home and my temporary home for the next few weeks, I’m hit with a pang of disappointment.

The night is over, and I don’t want it to be.

I kill the engine and help her from the bike.

It’s dark now. I can hear the croak of frogs in the distance, blending in with the song of the crickets, and the night air is decorated by the blink of fireflies.

She shifts on her feet a little before speaking, “Thank you for dinner, and the ride, and the evening, really. I had a really great time.”

“Enough of a great time to do it again soon? This weekend, maybe?” I itch to reach out and cup her face. The moves I usually lay on thick when I am trying to score settle under my skin, but I don’t make a move, no matter how much I want to.

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