Page 35 of Fight for Forever

That repeats in my head all the way over to Manhattan. I hired a driver for the night so I can have a few drinks without worrying about getting behind the wheel. I’d never put Meg in danger like that.

The same doorman greets me. He’s an avid MMA fan, and he was thrilled as hell when I showed up the first time. I humor him again because you should never dismiss a fan, but my head isn’t in it.

Especially when the elevator opens and Megan steps out. Even the doorman stops mid-sentence.

“Fuck me,” I mutter.

“Damn straight.”

I glare at the doorman until he shrugs sheepishly and steps away. My eyes go back to Megan and I’m sorry, but this time I can’t help my eyes roaming up and down her body. And it’s a fucking gorgeous body.

I have no clue what you call this kind of dress, but it’s fitted, floor length and only has one delicate strap over her left shoulder. There is a split up the side that shows off some leg and the top comes down quite low in a V that shows off her cleavage.

I can’t help but notice a small, beauty mark on the curve of her left breast and all I can think about is how much I want to run my tongue over it.

She’s wearing her honey blond hair tied up in some complicated style but it looks good, shows off her swan-like neck and bare shoulders. She isn’t wearing any jewelry. Not that she needs anything to make her look even more gorgeous. Her make up is what I think they call smoky eyed, and her lips are a light shiny pink.

“Wow,” I can’t help but say as she comes towards me.

“You too,” she eyes my tux.

“I look like a penguin.”

“You look handsome.”

“You think?” I grin.

“Do I need a jacket? I can run back up for one.”

And cover up all that fucking gorgeousness. Not a chance. “It’s still quite warm out and I have a car that will take us to and from the venue.”

“Fancy.”

“That’s me,” I laugh again.

Then I hold out my arm, my elbow bent. After a moment, Meg slips hers through mine and I tug my arm gently towards my side, so she has to step closer. She smells fucking divine. I’m a lucky sonofabitch that she’s chosen to trust me. Like Dixon says, I’m gonna make the most of this.

And if the what will be, will be motto has a little push in me letting her know I’m more than interested, so be it.

Chapter Fourteen

This is way fancier than anything I’ve ever been to in my life. I’m stunned that a lot of the people Joey is pointing out to me are fighters. People who use their fists to make a living. The ones he’s introduced to me so far have been nice. Aside from their size and some of them having obvious old broken bones in their faces, I would never guess they got up and did violence.

A few of them have eyed me too closely, making me a little uncomfortable, but Joey noticed and steered us away, or gave whoever it was a sharp ‘back the fuck off’ glare.

There are a ton of beautiful women here too and at first I felt self-conscious, but Joey has barely taken his eyes off me. Something Brooke swore this dress would do. I felt uncomfortable wearing it, but as the night has gone on, I’ve felt more at ease, almost proud of how I look. Showing myself off in the past never happened.

Michael hated it if I drew attention to myself. Even when I was wearing jeans and a sweater, with my hair tied up and no make-up. If someone even looked in my direction, he’d get pissed. And took it out on me.

Mostly it was him yelling, or making me feel small, ugly. Then he started using his fists.

I felt nothing like that tonight. I feel beautiful. The dinner segment of the evening starts, and Joey leads me to a table that is just off center to the stage. There are eight seats around it, each with a name card. Mine says Mr Ferguson’s guest.

Joey holds out my chair for me before unbuttoning his jacket and sitting beside me. A server pours everyone a glass of champagne and Joey strikes up a conversation with the other four people already seated with us. Everyone introduces themselves, Joey knows one of them who is a fight promoter he’s worked with before.

I’m still a little shy around strangers, but feel like I’m holding my own. Joey is more outgoing than most people I know, able to talk to anyone. He keeps the focus off me, while drawing me into the conversation so I don’t feel left out.

Everything about him is appealing to me, so much so I can forget he is a fighter.

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