Page 13 of Strike Zone

“I’d be down for that, but I know it would be a hardship for you. You know, considering how much you dislike me.” With a sly wink, I lead her to the restaurant, where we’re quickly taken to a secluded table in the back. It’s odd because people aren’t staring at Anders and me—star players for the Yankees. People are staring at Dee Lex, tomorrow night’s big draw here in Vegas. I’m just the apparent arm candy for the evening, and it’s a little disconcerting.

“Would you like drinks to get you started?” The waiter is trying to play it cool, but he immediately knows he’s serving the biggest name in Vegas this weekend.

“Water for me, thanks. I’m here on business.” The waiter blushes, and I want to slap it right out of him. What self-respecting man blushes?

“I’m rooting for you, Miss Lexington.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of us order drinks without any recognition. It’s like the twilight zone compared to a night out in New York. Given menus to look at while the waiter goes off to get our drinks, there are hushed whispers as patrons begin to notice Diana. She’s quick to use her menu as a wall to hide behind.

“This is why I usually eat in my room the night before a fight.”

“I’d gladly have ordered room service with you.” I can’t help myself. The innuendos just keep falling out of my mouth when I’m around her.

“The next word out of your perfect, pouty lips better not be ‘naked,’ or I’ll be giving you a fat lip.” The lady doth protest too much.

“Admit it, you find me charming. I can see that hint of a smile dying to get out. Let it. I promise it won’t kill you.” Eventually, she relents.

“You’re infuriating, Lincoln Nash.”

“No one says my full name unless I’m being scolded, but it sounds so good coming out of your mouth. Like a dirty mistress or something. Say it again.” She bites down on her bottom lip, and my cock twitches at the sight of it, but her expression quickly sours.

“I’m no one’s dirty mistress. This is exactly why you and I will never get naked. You think women are expendable, for your amusement until you’re done and ready to discard them like trash.”

“What the fuck?” As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize the decibel level was way too loud. Brooke and Anders stop their conversation, their eyes snapping to me in unison.

“You heard me.” She turns to her sister. “No need to stop me sleeping with him, Brooke. I wouldn’t, even if you paid me.”

“Care to explain?” I level the question at Anders because I can’t stand to look at Diana or her sister right now. I didn’t realize I was a problem to be managed this weekend, and they’ve clearly been instructed to run interference if I get too close for comfort.

“What?” He plays dumb.

“I’ve just been informed that your wife has been tasked with making sure Diana here doesn’t give in to her animalistic desire to rip off my clothes and lick me from head to toe before begging me to make mad, passionate love to her for hours on end.” I look to Diana. “Is that about right?” She has the decency to seem at least a little embarrassed that I’ve been designated minders for the weekend.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, my mistake. Is it that I’m so hideous, and you have a tendency to take pity on guys who resemble the hunchback of Notre Dame?”

“You’re a jackass. A pain in the ass, hot as fuck, pouting playboy. I don’t have any intention of losing tomorrow night, so yes, I asked Brooke to make sure I keep my mind on the task at hand. I won’t apologize for it. I have a job to do, and just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t make my goals and dreams irrelevant. Men like you disgust me. You’re a self-absorbed, narcissistic, selfish womanizer.” Whoa. Hold the fucking phone. Where did that come from?

“Message received, loud and clear.” I don’t have time for this shit. Diana may be beautiful and the best female MMA fighter of her generation, but bitchy isn’t sexy. Whatever her damage is, it has nothing to do with me, and I’m not getting sucked into her man-hating brand of feminism.

“Linc…”

“Save it for someone who gives a shit. You don’t need to worry about sleeping with me, Diana. Contrary to popular belief, I have standards, and women who get a kick out of being a bitch are a real turn-off. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head back to the casino.”

No wonder Diana is the UFC reigning champion. She goes straight for the jugular—unprovoked. At the first hint of a playful joke, she threw whatever shit she’s dealing with in my face like a sucker punch. It definitely had maximum impact. I came to Vegas to get away from my own bullshit after visiting dear old Mom. Winning comes with its own demons where I’m concerned, and all I wanted to do was come here, have some fun, flirt, drink, and gamble. I’ll settle for the last two. Back to the craps table, it is.

Anders knows better than to come after me, and I’d bet he’s sinking his teeth into an eight-ounce fillet right about now. If he doesn’t get me a to-go box, I’m going to nut-punch him.

Diana’s venomous tongue is quickly forgotten as I lose myself in the crowd, ordering drinks for the high rollers and inviting a few for a private game of poker. Then, when Anders finally makes an appearance, it’s time to play.

“Took you long enough. Did you enjoy your meal, Judas?”

“She’s family.”

“And I’m not. Good to know. Brooke leads you around by the cock now, and her sister is a colossal bitch. Thanks for having my back.”

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