Page 77 of Strelitzias in Spring

“You look amazing. Have you lost weight?”

“No.” Kelly’s smile falters at Wolf’s mother’s flat tone, but she doesn’t seem deterred. “New haircut then?”

“No, same style I’ve had for the last fifteen years.”

“Then—”

“Kelly, nothing’s changed. How is Gage?”

Kelly’s smile becomes brittle. “Oh, Wolf didn’t tell you? We’re not together anymore. You know Wolf and I were talking earlier; we think we deserve to give it another chance. There’s so much love between—”

“Have you met Wolf’s girlfriend, Serena?” Mrs. McCleery interrupts, shocking both Kelly and me if my sputter and Kelly’s icy stare are any indications.

“Mrs. McCleery,” I start, shaking my head emphatically. The last thing I need is for Wolf to think I’m telling his friends and family that I’m his girlfriend.

“Glynnie, dear. Remember?” No, I don’t remember.

“I—”

“… am so modest. But tell Kelly how you two met.” Raising her voice, she explains, “Wolf gave her a tattoo. Isn’t that romantic? And she’s one of Celeste’s best friends. And you know how discerning our CeCe is when it comes to character.”

Giving me the attention she didn’t think I was warranted when she first interrupted us, Kelly surveys my form, dragging her eyes from the tip of my black sneakers, up my baggy jeans, and to the tight, off-the-shoulder top I’m wearing. Though my shoulders are on display, I’m a lot more conservatively dressed than some of the other women here, Kelly included. In her pink minidress and heels, we look like we’re going to two different events.

“Hmm. Anyway, Glynnie, it was so good catching up. Lunch soon? I’ll tell Wolf to set it up.” Her words show her dismissal, her analysis that whatever Wolf and I are, it’s no competition for her.

“I’m with my son’s girlfriend, Kelly. I don’t believe Wolf will be inclined to set anything up. It was nice seeing you. Say hi to Gage for me.” Mrs. McCleery turns from her, pulling me with her to hide within the crowd we’re with.

Once Kelly is out of earshot, Mrs. McCleery releases my arm and offers me an eye roll. “I hate rooting against women, you know? I’m all for empowerment, going after what you want, and being the maker of your destiny. But that girl, my goodness, what a viper.” Shaking her head, she shivers before continuing, “When Wolf told me they broke up, I felt bad for him, but I was so relieved she would be out of our lives, especially after he told me what she did.”

Furrowing my brow, I can’t help but ask, “What did she do?”

Mrs. McCleery scoffs, not hiding her distaste. “She left him, practically in the middle of the night, for one of his teammates, or training mates, whatever the hell it’s called. Wolfric is retiring after this game. Kelly was against it and tried to convince him to postpone his retirement.”

“I think it’s called a fight. And Wolfric? That’s his real name?”

“Yes, I went through an Old English phase for a while. He was almost Ultread, but my husband wouldn’t allow it.”

“Thank God,” I mutter. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Mrs. McCleery—Glynnie—I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not Wolf’s girlfriend.”

She shrugs like it’s of no consequence. “Yet, but I’m sure you will be. Now, shh, I hear Wolf’s entrance song.” She turns, giving me her back and effectively ending the conversation. I feel like I have whiplash from the amount of information I learned in the last fifteen minutes.

“Told you she was fiery,” Ava whispers into my ear. “But you and Wolfie, huh? Freaking knew it.” She holds up her hand in an invitation to high-five me.

“I am not giving you a high-five,” I grumble, earning laughs from both her and Greyson. We sober as soon as we hear a loud wolf howl, followed by the opening chords of Mumford & Son’sThe Wolf. The lights dim, casting us all in shadows as a spotlight shines on the mouth of the entrance. “Ava, I thought Wolf was an amateur fighter?”

CeCe butts in, answering my question. “He’s not, technically. He got his start in jiu-jitsu championships, then worked his way into the MMA world.”

I nod, feigning understanding. I could ask more questions, but I stand enraptured by the hooded figure walking out to the lyrics about a wolf on the hunt for blood. His journey to the cage is timed perfectly with the song and the lyrics; he walks through the crowd as the song croons,You have been weighed, you have been found wanting. He steps up to the platform as the singer taunts,You better keep the wolf back from the door. And finally, he arrives at his corner of the mat with the lyrics,I promised you everything would be fine.

Howls and claps usher him in, sealing his control over the crowd. I don’t pay attention as his opponent’s song begins, nor do I give the same focus to the coordination of their entrance song and their arrival in the cage. My eyes are trained on Wolf as he strips to a tight pair of shorts and his tattoos.

The other fighter strips quickly, and a man in a referee shirt walks into the middle of the cage, announcing the rules to Wolf and his opponent before ordering them to shake hands and retreat into their corners. A sound like sticks breaking goes off, and then Wolf sprints.

For someone of his size, I never would have expected the speed with which he can move, but he charges at the other fighter so quickly, in such a blur, that the punch combination he lands takes him down immediately. As soon as his opponent drops, Wolf is on him, giving one final blow until the ref rushes out, stopping Wolf’s punches and signaling the end of the fight.

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