Page 33 of Falling for the Forbidden Fighter
Of course, Ricky isn’t happy.
Don pulls him aside, handling him like a wild dog, placating the tantrum. He’ll calm him down. The big man has made his decision.
Catherine turns, still shaking, looking relieved but pale.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Me? They could have killed you.”
“They’re big puppy dogs.”
Something in the office crashes, probably hurled by Ricky.
“It’s not just that,” Catherine says, smiling through the tears. “My dad… he likes you. He believes in you.”
Don gets that cigar in his mouth, shaking his head as Ricky takes off out the front doors.
“All right, kid,” he roars, sliding flat gloves off. “Get over here. Today is gonna be the worst day of your life! You ain’t leaving this gym until you’ve puked up every meal you’ve eaten for a week!”
“Yeah.” I smile and kiss Catherine on the head. “I like him, too.”
CHAPTER 9
CATHERINE
Everything has led to this moment.
All the training, the drama, and the quiet moments we’ve shared.
He’s put himself through hell, faced down everything my father could throw at him, put my brother on the mat, and swept me away all at once. It’s hard to imagine my life a short seven weeks ago… the absence of him.
No matter what happens, I smile knowing we’ll never go back to before we met.
We’ve been in Vegas for three days.
Weigh-ins. Last-minute training sessions reviewing Ruiz’s fights, scrutinizing Louis’s technique. Making sure he’s rested and fueled.
As always, I can’t spot a speck of fear on his face.
He moves through this weird world of boxing with a calmness I can’t reflect. At the face-off, he doesn’t show a hint of nervousness when he poses with Ruiz.
I’mterrified. Every night, I make love to him like it’ll be the last time. I ride him in our hotel room, doing all the work, holding him down so he doesn’t take over and strain himself.
Last night, I slapped his hand away.
“Not-uh. Not tonight,” I said. “You’ll fight better if you’re… coiled up.”
“That’s so not fair.”
“Don’t worry. Win or lose, I’m going to rock your world when it’s over.”
I traced the scar on his arm, trying to imagine what that pain must have felt like.
MGM Grand Garden Arena—the big show.
Even with the main event a couple of hours away, the stadium is full. We can hear the crowd from the locker room as I tape Louis’s hands and apply petroleum jelly to his face. He takes deep breaths, staring at me as I work.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, meeting his eyes.
