Page 54 of Further To Fall

I, of course, blurted out, “I think I’m going to puke.”

He started laughing so hard he had to brace himself on the gate’s frame. “I don’t think you mean you’re actually sick.”

“No, but I could be,” I said, scowling at him.

Austin reached for me, but I backed away, mad at his insensitive butt for laughing at me. The evasion didn’t last long, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. “There’s no reason to be nervous, baby. You’re my favorite person in the whole world. There’s no way we’re not going to have a blast.” I melted into him at those words; they were just what I needed to hear.

He must have felt the tension bleed from me because he squeezed my shoulder and pulled back, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Everything okay now?” I nodded, cheeks heating at the thought of my freak-out. Austin grabbed my hand, interlocking our fingers, and led me to his car. “You’re so fucking adorable.”

I slipped into the SUV as soon as Austin opened the door, clicking my seatbelt into place and fumbling with my purse strap. Austin got in, cranked the engine, and then reached for my hand again, placing our interwoven fingers on his thigh. He’d never held my hand like this before, and I soaked up the sensations as he traced nonsensical shapes on the back of my hand.

I took in his face as he navigated through traffic: his cut jaw with just the faintest shadow of stubble, nose with just the slightest crook in it from being broken one too many times, deep and dark blue eyes, and a Dodgers baseball cap pulled low on his forehead. He was breathtaking, and he apparently wanted me. I was going for it. Smiling down at my lap I asked, “So, where are we going?”

He turned to glance at me briefly, a devious grin on his handsome face. “It’s a surprise.”

“Come on.”

“You’re just going to have to be patient.”

“Patience is not my virtue.”

Austin chuckled. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes, so you won’t have to be patient for long.”

I let myself be lulled by Austin’s gentle ministrations on the back of my hand and, before I knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot at Griffith Observatory. “I’ve always wanted to go here, but I’ve never made it.”

He smiled as he swung into a parking spot. “I thought it would be the perfect spot for a picnic.”

I just sat there and blinked at him for a moment. “A picnic? I love picnics!”

“I know you do.” He slipped on the sunglasses that hung from his shirt collar and pulled his hat farther down his forehead. Studying his movements, I realized Austin was trying to disguise himself. When we used to hang out, the odd fight fan would approach him here or there, but I recognized that his entire world had changed within the span of a year.

With a squeeze, he released my hand, hopped down from the Range Rover, and came around to my door to help me out. He then opened the trunk and retrieved an extremely large picnic basket. With his free hand, he grabbed mine and led us toward the massive lawns that overlooked LA.

“It’s beautiful up here,” I said, turning myself towards him. “I think all this time, you were just a closet romantic.”

“Only for you, Firecracker. Only for you.” Austin stopped us when he came to a spot that wasn’t too crowded but had a great view of the city. He set down the picnic basket and pulled out a red plaid blanket, spreading it out over the grass. He gestured for me to sit and started pulling takeout containers from the basket. “I got all your favorites from Joan’s On Third.”

Joan’s made my absolute favorite egg salad and this delicious snap pea and asparagus salad, not to mention their cupcakes. “You are a king among men.” I sighed, then made a grabby hands motion at him and started opening all the packages. My stomach growled so loudly that Austin could hear it, and he started laughing. I smacked his shoulder. He settled in next to me, and we started scooping food onto plates. “How was the gym today?”

“Good. Trained with a couple new guys who I think have potential.”

I swallowed my bite of egg salad on focaccia and tried not to moan. “That’s great. Are you thinking that you want to move towards coaching more?”

Austin was silent for a moment, and I turned my head towards him as he took a slug of water. “I think I’m going to retire from fighting at the end of next year.”

I dropped my sandwich back to my plate. “Really? Why? You love fighting.”

He toyed with the napkin that was lying across his thigh. “I love it, but I don’t love what it does to my body. I get just as much of a high when one of the guys I train wins as when I do. It’s not worth the risk of being turned into a vegetable from one too many concussions.”

I was stunned silent. I had never heard Austin talk like this. He always downplayed any injury risks. I met his eyes and could see a hesitancy there like he was unsure if I would still want to be with him if he was no longer center stage. I reached over and squeezed his hand. “I think that’s great. Really great.”

His shoulders sagged in relief. “What about teaching? Are you still loving it?”

I took a sip of my lemonade and pondered how to answer that. “There are a lot of things I love about it, but there are a lot of things that are frustrating. I love interacting with the kids, figuring out how to best support and encourage each one, but I hate how many restrictions I have. I have to spend so much time preparing them for standardized tests. Tests that I’m not sure accurately measure anything and don’t truly help them learn. And there is a desperate need for after-school programs like the one you’re starting. All these kids need more support than they’re currently getting, and I wish I had the freedom to give it to them. I can get away with some things, but not on a broad scale.”

Austin had been listening intently to everything I had to say. It was so refreshing. Even Kyle, a teacher himself, got annoyed when I prattled on about my frustration with the system. Austin brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I think it’s amazing that you care so deeply for these kids. I wish there was more I could do to help you.”

“What you’re already doing is incredible. I heard some of the boys in my class talking about the flyers I posted at school. They’re going to ask their parents if they can join.”

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