Page 20 of Fight for Forever

She gives me a look, but she doesn’t mean it. Brooke leans across and hugs me against her as I brush at the tears. They’re not tears of sadness, it’s because I can’t believe there are people around me who want to see me succeed, who care about me.

It’s been so long since I’ve had that.

“You’re worth it,” she whispers. “You deserve to be happy.”

After she lets me go and I clean up my face, I wring my hands together. She’s right, I have to take back my life, take back the control.

“I still don’t know how to ask him,” I say.

“Until you’ve worked on your flirting game, you’re best to just socialize. Ask him to do something other than train. Take it from there. You’ll know pretty quickly if there is chemistry, reciprocated interest.”

“How?”

“If it’s there, you will know, Meg. Trust me.”

I can do that. I can trust her. Can I ask Joey out on a date?

Only one way to find out.

Chapter Nine

“Ah fuck,” I tilt my head back and tear my glove off so I can cup my nose.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Malice asks.

He just clipped me right in the nose, which is now bleeding. I’m getting no sympathy for it, which is fucking fair, given I’m the one who isn’t paying attention.

It stings like a sonofabitch. Getting punched in the nose is no fun, but it wasn’t hard enough to break. I’d have beaten the shit out of Malice if he broke my nose, my fault or not.

“Get out of the ring,” Malice tells me with a scowl.

I’m about to argue, but he’s right. Damn, I’m gonna have to clean the ring too. I try my best to catch the blood and head to the ropes. Malice holds them down for me so I can duck through and jump out of the ring. He tosses me a towel and I shove it up under my nostrils.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Sam. He’s working with Devon. Hopefully, he missed that. I’ll never hear the end of it if he saw Malice land that punch un-defended.

I follow Malice over to the fridge and he grabs us both a bottle of water. He drinks his while I pour some of mine into the towel and clean my face up.

“How’d I manage that?” Malice asks.

“Lucky shot.”

“Bullshit. Your head isn’t here. You know better than anyone else that any shit going on outside stays outside the ring. It’s too fucking dangerous to not be focused up there. Especially fighting me,” he adds with a cocky smirk. “So what gives?”

“I’m just tired, probably not fully recovered.”

“Man-baby.”

“Says the guy who didn’t show up for two weeks cos he sneezed.”

“I had stomach flu, you prick. I was shitting through the eye of a needle for days.”

“I didn’t need to hear that.” I throw the bloody towel at him.

He shrugs unapologetically. “So, what?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

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