Page 19 of Fighting Fate

8

Orla keeps talking a mile a second while Mom laughs in the background of our video call. The week has gone by in a crazy flash while working with the launch team for the gym’s official opening, along with Lucasz Reznik’s first murmur of a challenge that’s ramped up my training schedule.

“How’re you feeling about it?” Mom asks, pushing my sister out of the camera shot and adjusting it so that it’s focused on her. We’ve had a catch-up, and now she wants to get serious. “I’ve watched him fight. He’s good.”

“Better than good.”

“Are you worried?”

I ponder her question for a moment as I turn up the sleeves of my shirt. It’s date night, and I’m trying to make sure everything is perfect before Willow gets here.

“It would be stupid of me not to acknowledge his worth, but I’m confident.”

“That’s good. Remember what Daddy used to say?”

“Belief is half the fight.”

“Exactly. We’re so proud of you, no matter what happens. You just keep believing in yourself the way I do.”

“We do,” Orla corrects her, perching on the back of the couch so she’s in view again. “The actual concern here should be your big date.”

“It’s just a date…dinner…”

“With a pretty girl,” Orla adds, obviously fishing for more.

“Nothing big about it.”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.” Orla might be thirteen years younger than me, but we’re as close as can be. “Make sure you light some candles, and don’t forget flowers.”

“I got this,” I tell her, picking up my phone from where it’s sitting on the coffee table and heading for the front door as the concierge messages me to let me know Willow is on her way up.

“Be a gentleman.”

“Christ,” Mom laughs, lightly slapping Orla’s knees. “Your brother said he’s got this…”

“Yeah, bu—”

“He’s got this,” Mom cuts her off at the same time as I tell them, “I have to go. Call you tomorrow.”

“Don’t get too distracted,” I hear her murmur, catching the frown on her face as the call ends.

Throughout my entire career, I haven’t allowed for distractions. There have been plenty of girls and fleeting nights, but no one that made me pause and really think about what’s next. Willow’s different, though. Thoughts of her turn into wonderings of what’s to come.

I’m thirty-five, and I need to think about a future beyond the cage and what I want. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I’ve never thought about it as much as I have since Willow came into my life. The more I allow the thought of retiring to settle, the more it doesn’t seem so bad. I could see a lot more of my family, and I could actually invest myself in a relationship.

When I open the door, I look over the flower-and-candle centrepiece that the florist set up earlier. The softly flowered scent of the candle warms the air between the marble walls and floors. The light glow flickers as the elevator doors ping open, and my breath catches.

Holy shit…

From the moment I laid eyes on her, I’ve always thought she was stunning. Tonight, however, the girl looks jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Long, dark hair tumbles in loose curls that frame her pretty face. I like the natural make-up on her. The golden tones make the green and blue in her eyes piercing enough that I have to force myself to look away. Taking in her silver dress and the way her tits look in the deep V, I’m speechless and far too hot under the collar to keep a cool face. The thin fabric does nothing to hide the shadow of her underwear, and my dick appreciates it all too much, making my thoughts hard to control.

“Hi,” she murmurs, taking a step forward when our eyes meet again.

The one-sided pitched smile, along with the soft look in her eyes, is enough to tell me she’s nervous.

With a couple of long strides to where she’s standing, I grasp her hand in mine, tugging her gently to me as I tell her, “Looking hot, doll.”

“Aren’t you the charmer?” Willow chuckles lightly, a hand moulding to my shoulder while I press a kiss to her forehead.

---