Page 4 of Finn

I’m watching the outskirts of the ring when Jared hands me another amaretto sour. Excuse me, Uppercut Princess. Since I’m here, I may as well talk the talk. I drink it down while two more fighters approach the cage. These two enter to music, jogging down a ramp until they wait in front of the octagon’s entrance where a referee-looking official rubs a gel-like substance over their nose and cheekbones. When I ask Jared what it is, he tells me it’s Vaseline to help the fighters’ blows glance off instead of splitting skin. My eyebrows end up in my hairline as I take in the information.

Bulkier than the first, the two new fighters sport full muscles and defined abs. One of them has a messed-up ear, and I overhear Jared tell Jaz it’s because he does Jiu-Jitsu, which apparently makes your ear look like a swollen troll. The guy opposite him bounces up and down, smacking his gloves together. Over his right shoulder stands a man in a tight t-shirt, hanging over the top of the cage and talking rapidly. I sit up straighter, lips parting. This guy is to-die-for gorgeous. Longer hair feathers over the tips of his ears, falling forward toward fierce eyes that are highlighted by sharp cheekbones. The taper from his muscled torso to strong hips is partially hidden by the black chain-link but is nonetheless droolworthy. Suddenly, the rushed words bursting from his mouth end on a crescendo while he slams the top of the cage three times before jumping to the ground, leaving his fighter in the ring baring his teeth.

If I thought the first fight was brutal, this one is next level. The extra meat on the competitors’ bones lends to more damaging punches heaved with almost the same amount of dizzying speed as the first match. Despite the raw brutality in the ring, I’m drawn to the dirty-blond haired coach outside the cage who’s putting as much energy into the bout as the two fighters. In between rounds, he enters the octagon, giving the guy in dark blue trunks a water bottle and a towel to clean up with. All the while, he talks into the brawler’s ear animatedly, making short punching motions with a closed fist. Dark joggers hug his waist when he crouches, getting eye level for his last few words of advice.

I’m mesmerized. I don’t know if it’s the guy or the atmosphere or what, but I feel as if I’m watching the most intriguing scene I’ve ever witnessed. I’m completely caught up in the moment that when the fight resumes and the fighter in the blue trunks knocks his opponent out, I jump to my feet, clapping louder than any other person in our section.

Jaz yanks me down, her face full of confused amusement. “What are you doing?”

I half turn toward her while still keeping my eyes on the action. “I love everything about this.”

She laughs. “Let’s see, blood, brutality, and drama? Of course you do.” Leaning closer, she teases, “You’re so much like your brother.”

I shove her away playfully for that remark but I’m still distracted by what’s happening in the cage. The opponent who got knocked out is being tended to while the other fighter’s team—including my hottie—rushes the cage. The dirty-blond haired trainer picks his man up around the waist, hoisting him in the air while the winner thrusts his hands toward the ceiling with a gladiator-like yell.

The celebration dies gradually, and the two sides shake hands after the official announcement. I can’t keep my eyes off the gorgeous specimen of a man, his grin infectious as he greets the other fighter’s team, bowing his head to them in a show of respect before he wraps his arms around the victor’s shoulders for a picture.

I lean left, getting all up in Jaz’s space to ask Jared who he is, trying to point him out without using words like sexy, handsome, and muscled god. Eventually, he understands. “Oh, that’s Finn. He and his brother own a boxing-turned-MMA gym on the outskirts of town.”

Finn. Even his name is fucking hot.

They leave the ring, and I watch him as he talks in his fighter’s ear, exiting down the ramp they entered from. They retreat inside another door on the far end, and I lose sight.

The best thing about Finn is the lack of a Dragon tattoo.

I can’t stop thinking about him as the night wears on. Scanning the crowd between matches always leaves me disappointed. So, after the last fight ends, I perk up again, but instead of finding him, I watch in awe as the Ring transforms into a club. A canvas net is thrown over the octagon, the chairs are stripped down, and the fighters fill the lower level, walking around proudly with cuts and bruises. One contender’s eye is so swollen it’s grotesque but he smiles through it all. Spectators from the upper floors file down, talking with the competitors, getting autographs, or just dancing in the available space now that club music has turned on.

I survey the crowd until I spot Finn standing with a group of fighters. His build matches theirs, and even though he didn’t fight tonight, I wonder if he has before.

“You have a glint in your eye,” Jaz pokes.

I give her a wicked grin. “I have my eye on someone. Do you think Jared wants to go down and meet any of the fighters?”

She knows I’m up to something and like the good girlfriend she is, she helps me out. Leaning into her date, my bestie brings up the idea. He seems thrilled, and what a coincidence, me-fucking-too. As for Jaz, she’s just content to see what the hell I’m going to do next.

We head toward the stairwell as I figure out how the hell I’m going to get in this guy’s pants. Preferably tonight. Preferably within the next hour.

It’s been some dry spell, let me tell you.

3

I’ve never been much for beating around the bush.

As soon as we enter onto the first floor, I take the lead, forcing Jared and Jaz to follow. When we get ten feet away from Finn and the group he’s talking to, my stomach clenches. He’s taller than me, by almost a whole head. He’d be intimidating if he didn’t have an alarmingly adorable smile, striking features, and a boisterous laugh that seems to come as easy as breathing.

Basically, I’m a goner for the guy before I’ve even officially met him.

Though I’m at least a foot shorter than all the guys in his circle, I butt right in, wiggling between him and the guy on his right. He peers down at me, lip twitching at the corners as if he finds me amusing.

“Finn, right?” I ask, an absurdly wide smile on my face.

He isn’t taken aback by how forward I am. In fact, his own smile grows, and he tilts his head to the side conspiratorially. “That’s me. But I know we haven’t met because I would remember those eyes.” His gaze narrows, and for a brief second, it’s like he’s staring straight into my soul.

Despite myself, I blush. I’m so struck by his flirtatious comment that I forget I’m on a mission until Jaz nudges me, and Jared, thank God, saves the day. “Dude, amazing fight.” He turns to the guy on my right who I definitely stepped in front of to meet Finn and congratulates him on winning. I hadn’t even recognized him as the fighter with the blue trunks when I approached Finn. I was on a mission.

Finn doesn’t steer his eyes away from mine except to shake hands with Jared. When Jared moves on to the fighter, the trainer’s entrancing blue eyes focus on me once more. “So, does the beautiful girl have a name?”

I blink, all thought leaving me. Not going to lie, I’m used to being the assertive one. The fact that he’s coming right back is throwing me off.

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