Page 11 of Fight for Forever

A full three hours after I sent it, Megan replied.

MEGAN

Thank you Joey, I appreciate you being willing to do this. I’ll be fine to come on my own. Can you send me details of when and where?

So I sent her my address, told her I’m free for the next three afternoons so she can choose. She will be here in twenty minutes. My apartment is sparkling clean. I’ve set up some equipment in my home gym, researched how to train self-defense classes, and I’ve lit some scented candles, ones that have a calming effect.

I’m not into that kind of shit, but I want to do everything I can to put her at ease.

Now I’m sitting here like a nervous teenager going on his first fucking date and I’ve started to sweat.

When the security doorbell alerts me someone is here, I go to the unit on the wall and switch over to the camera. She’s wearing a sweatshirt and some workout pants, and her hair is pulled back. Her eyes flit back and forth around her before she turns to the camera.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous. “Get it together asshole,” I growl to myself, then hit the intercom. “Hey, come on in. Take the elevator up to the third floor.”

She nods with a smile and disappears from view when the door unlocks. I head out into the hall to wait for her. It’s a quiet building in a safe neighborhood, but I want her to be as at ease as possible.

Shit, I should have waited downstairs for her. Or is thatcoming on too strong?

My head tilts back on a groan and I stare at the ceiling. You’re a professional, you can do this. Get your head in the game. This is what you know. Just don’t scare her.

Fuck.

The elevator doors open a few minutes later and Megan steps out. I greet her and then hold the door open for her to go through ahead of me. She falters, then straightens her back and walks into the room. Shit, did I misstep there? I try to figure out why, but get distracted by the fresh scent of her perfume.

I make small talk as I lead her to my gym. Her eyes are everywhere, looking around my living space. Just a few weeks ago, my skin felt as if it was being peeled off by having people in my place, but I don’t get that feeling with Megan.

“Wow, Joey, this is amazing,” she stands in the middle of my home gym and turns to face me.

“I have to train a lot and can’t always get to the gym, so,” I shrug, looking around at the state-of-the-art gym equipment and the huge open space I have for sparring.

“Are you training at the moment?” she asks, setting her water bottle down on a shelf by the wall units where I keep towels and spare gym clothes.

“Not right now, but I will be. Sam has organized a match for me.”

“A fight?” she clarifies.

I nod. “I prefer to call them matches,” I say. Changing the wording isn’t for her benefit. “It’s a re-match against a guy I won against.”

“Oh,” she plays with her ponytail, her eyes moving around the space again.

“So, I wasn’t sure what things you wanted to work on. I spoke with Ricky, and I got some ideas about what we can work on self-defense wise.”

“Joey,” she steps onto the mat, not too close but within touching distance. “I don’t want to learn self-defense. I learnt a lot from Ricky already. What I want to learn from you is how to fight.”

My brows dip in confusion. Fight? I didn’t pick up on that at the coffee shop.

“In my experience,” she chews on her lip. “Self-defense is a quick fix, something to throw off an attacker. I want to know how to fight if Ican’tget away.”

The statement hangs between us, both of us knowing what she means. She doesn’t want to hold someone off so she can escape. She wants to proactively protect herself. Megan looks at me earnestly, probably thinking I’m going to say this isn’t what I agreed to. Truth is, I know how to fight better than anything else. It changes what I planned for today.

“Okay,” I grin. “That makes my life easier.”

“Yeah?” she smiles back.

“But if you’re going to learn how to fight, you need to do what I tell you.”

“Of course,” she says.

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