Page 93 of Hits Different

Brandon

I’ve fantasised about a date with Parker Di Rossi my whole life, but not once did I imagine it would involve watching a cage fight sponsored by a local donut store. Not. Once.

It’s ten bucks entrance fee and since Parker sprung for dinner, I pick up the tickets.

He bristles, but it’s no big deal. Money’s about the only thing I don’t have on my mind right now. I won’t lie, to find out Parker’s been keeping shit from me isn’texactlyhow I expected the night to go, but I know what this is really about, even if he doesn’t. I’m determined to keep an open mind.

Parker hands me a foamy beer in a red plastic cup. “I take you to all the fanciest places, huh?”

I grin. The place is half-full, but most of the chairs are empty.

His hand grazes my ass, and I catch it, turning quickly to make sure nobody has seen. I don’t want to put Parker off PDA, if anything—the exact opposite—but I have a hell of a lot more experience being into guys than he does. I can handle myself, but this isn’t the right environment for some dude-on-dude action.

He senses my anxiety and backs off. “Everything okay?”

“Not that my ass doesn’t appreciate the attention”, I adjust my volume so that only he can hear me, ”It’s just not 100% confident that copping is feel is worth having to fight off a bloodthirsty mob for”.

His eyes widen as they catch my meaning. It’s a reality you don’t need to think about unless you’re dating someone of the same sex. I remember in high school Parker and his girlfriends would be making out all over the place. Janitor’s closet. School bus. Detention. Even if I was out back then, I'd never have dared.

He glances around, eyes scanning the room for danger.

I feel a flicker of guilt. First dates are supposed to be magic, and I want to keep it that way.At ease, I murmur.

Parker probably could kick the ass of most of the guys in here. Not that this is something I particularly want to encourage. But then, maybe I don’t need to, given that he’s been making moves in that area on his own. His voice is in my ear.

“If anyone ever touched you, I’d kill them. No hesitation”.

The scary thing is I totally believe him. Scarier still, it’s totally hot. “Really? Straight up murder?” He nods. “I can’t help but notice that Dmitry Volchok is still alive”.

“Just say the word”. The heat coming from him is infectious. He steers me in-front of him, and we grab a couple of chairs near the hotdog vendor.

“Special contribution for turning me the fuck on”, I say softly, and the wicked look he fires at me gives me butterflies.

The lights flash overhead, and people start making their way towards their seats. I take another sip of frothy beer. My eyes find a promotional poster, and I nudge Parker.“Which one am I rooting for?”

“Chase”, Parker gestures to a guy with a shaved head, a couple of years older than us, and a sleeve just like Parker’s. “That’s our guy. He’s a complete badass. He’s taught me a few things, actually”.

“Really?” EvenIcan detect the note of jealousy in my voice.

“Just some throws that I wanna try”. His eyes are shining. “Badass ninja stuff. In a safe and controlled environment, of course”, he adds. “Where nobody gets hurt. And our fight gloves are made from pillows”.

“Just like all the best ninjas”.

Both fighters are warming up. I haven’t ever really watched MMA, although it’s been on in the background on enough boys nights with the team.

Freddie’s a particular fan, always hosting party nights where a stream of seemingly endless identical looking meatheads smash the shit out of each other and the referee takes far too long to jump in and stop it. I never saw the appeal, but Freddie made a point of inviting me. A pang bumps in my chest.

Aside from a text to congratulate him on his engagement, I haven’t spoken to him since I semi-lost my shit on the phone.

I lean back, angling my phone to get a full view of the cage, and snap a picture.

“Career Change”, I caption it and hit send. He’ll get a kick out of it, even if he thinks I’m a melodramatic dick.

I glance up at Parker, but his eyes are locked on the cage. I follow his gaze to where Zara is giving a last-minute pep talk to Chase, despite not being his coach tonight. In my mind’s eye, I switch Parker with Chase. How would I feel, seeing him in that position? Ready to go to war.

In the ring, two men are about to square off.The two guys who have just finished must have been in the heavyweight division. Super heavyweight, maybe.

“So”, I say conversationally, “If you were take this on professionally, you’d look like those guys?”

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