Page 10 of Fighter

7

Samantha

I’m in a daze as I take the basement steps back up to the living room. Robotically, I open the door and close it behind me and go sit down on the couch beside Tressa. I’m staring at the floor like my eyes don’t want to focus on anything, but I can feel hers on me.

“What the hell, bitch? What was that?” she asks. “You guys building a model train down there?”

I shake my head. “No…”

“Okay? So…what then?”

“He’s a fighter,” I tell her. “He was working the bag.”

“Working the bag?” Tressa laughs. “Listen to you. You a sportscaster now?”

I’m brimming with excitement at the realization I just had. Maybe it was my nerves going into the club, or my anxiety coming here, or my conscious brain beating down on me, but I didn’t realize what was going on – not until he kissed me.

The spark. When our lips touched, I felt it. Unmistakable, like fireworks exploding inside my chest. This man who effectively bought me has somehow managed to ignite something within me that I never knew existed. Something Richard only wishes he could do.

“I – I kissed him.” Simply saying the words somehow cements what happened even more. Before it was just a shared moment between us. Now Tressa knows. Now it’s…official.

“You what? Sam, you didn’t have to do that,” Tressa says. “He already paid us. We’re not getting any more money out of him—”

“It wasn’t for the money,” I interrupt, finally bringing myself to look at her. “I – I wanted to.”

Tressa frowns, examines me like a scientist might examine a frog that suddenly sprouted wings, then scoffs and smiles. “Sure you did.”

“I did!”

“Sam, you are so silly,” she laughs. “A big, muscled hottie shows you a little affection and suddenly you’re swooning? See, this is why you need me looking out for you at the club. Guys want you, and you’re going to make so much money—”

“No,” I snap. “You don’t understand. I – I would have had sex with him. But he didn’t want to. Well – he did, but he said he couldn’t.”

“He what?!” Tressa laughs, eyeing the basement door. “Why? Because he’s got fucking herpes?”

“No! Because…because he doesn’t have sex before a big fight,” I explain, realizing it sounds just as silly coming out of my lips as it did coming out of his. “And he’s got one tomorrow.”

Again, Tressa looks at me like I’m insane, then bursts out laughing, so hard she falls on her back on the couch. “Oh, Sam, Sam, Sam…you have got to stop being so naïve!”

“It’s true!” I protest. “He told me!”

“He’s bullshitting you!” she replies, sitting up. “Trust me. You work in my line of business long enough and you hear it all. All guys are the same.”

“Except for me.” I turn quickly to see Max coming out of the basement. He stands with his eyes fixed on both of us, shirtless, his body glistening with sweat, and I feel it again.

The spark.

“Oh, you’re different?” Tressa asks mockingly. “You didn’t give us ten grand to come here tonight?”

“And did I ask you for sex? Are you doing anything for that money?” Maximus replies, his voice low and threatening. I glance over at Tressa, but she doesn’t look intimidated. Sometimes I wish I had her confidence.

“It’s just another move—”

“It’s not,” he says, slamming the basement door hard. He walks toward us. I see the unmistakable bulge in his pants and feel a pulse of heat between my legs as I remember how it felt pressed against me.

I did that to him. I can’t deny feeling pretty proud about that.

“And if you don’t believe me, you can leave now.” He turns his eyes to me, and my heart flutters. “I only ask that you come to my fight tomorrow.”

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