Page 10 of Craving the Fight (Gloves Off: Next Generation)

EMMA

It was hard to contain the joy flowing through me as Reagan drove us to Fightanium, the grandest gym in all of California. I knew the owners well. Fightanium was created seven years ago by none other than my father, my uncle Camden, Paxton Emerson, and Matt Reynolds; they were partners. Not only was it a state-of-the-art gym where anyone could join, but it was built to focus on MMA fighting, to aspire young fighters who wanted to learn more about the sport. My dad and the others set aside special training time each week to help train those who wanted to compete. The waiting list was ten million miles long a few years ago, so I could only imagine what it was like now.

We were almost to the gym, and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “I never thought I’d miss this place the way I do.”

Chuckling, Reagan glanced over at me and then focused back on the road. “Shocking. I thought the chic lifestyle of your fancy New York digs was more your taste.”

She couldn’t be more wrong. “It was at first, but there are days I just want to go to our family’s cabin and unwind for a while. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever see that place again. I’ve been so damn busy.”

We stopped at a traffic light, and Reagan turned her concerned gaze my way. “That doesn’t sound like much fun, Emma. Why do you take on so much?”

Why did I? It was a question I’d never asked myself before. But now that I thought about it, there were many reasons why I wanted to stay occupied, reasons I didn’t want to discuss with her.

“I don’t know,” I lied. “The money is kind of nice.”

The light changed to green, and we only had two more blocks left to go. Reagan shook her head and laughed. “I bet it is. But, in truth, I can’t say much. I’ve been earning my fair share of moola these days.”

“I know,” I replied, pride filling me to the brim. “My sister is the featherweight champion.”

Reagan winked. “And don’t you forget it.”

We pulled up at the gym, and the parking lot was slammed. Wide-eyed, I stared at all the cars. “Is it always like this?” Not to mention it was late and not far from closing time.

Reagan snorted and drove around to the back. “Always.” She parked next to Ethan’s metallic blue truck and shut off her car. “Ready?” she asked, a grin springing across her face.

I didn’t want to wait any longer. “Let’s sneak in through the back.” Not only would I get to see my brother, but Ripp and Brooks were there, along with Braden. Even though Ripp and Brooks were my cousins, they felt more like brothers since we were all so close in age. Braden, however, was entirely a different story. He was a flirt and protective of my sister and me, but his actions were never brotherly. Sparring with him was always interesting.

Reagan used her key to open the back door, and we crept down the hallway where there were several empty rooms. They were used for various classes throughout the week, mainly yoga, self-defense, and meditation. When my dad and the others dreamt up this place, they wanted it all.

Standing in the shadow of the hallway, I peeked around the corner to see Ethan in the ring with Ripp; Braden and Brooks were off to the side, watching them spar. Covered in sweat, Ethan and Ripp battled it out, trying to gain the upper hand. They hadn’t changed much since the last time I saw them. Ethan was my twin, and the only thing similar about us was the brown hair we got from our mother. In appearance, he was all our father right down to his ocean blue eyes. I was the only one of my siblings who inherited our mother’s green eyes.

Ripp and Brooks were wholly identical. It was scary how much they looked like my uncle Camden when he was younger. They had blond hair and bright blue eyes, but there was one thing that set them apart from their father … they didn’t act like him. I’d heard stories about how wild Camden was in his youth. Ripp and Brooks weren’t like that. Maybe Ripp was just a bit, but Brooks had his head on straight.

My attention wandered over to Braden Emerson, who watched Ethan and Ripp spar with amusement on his face. His hair was dark as night, and if he were to turn and look at us, you’d be able to tell his eyes were a mesmerizing green. I’d heard he transitioned from the light heavyweight class to the cruiserweight so he wouldn’t have to compete against Ripp. And if he got any bigger and moved to heavyweight, he’d have to fight against Carter. I knew he worked hard to move up a class, and it made me love him even more for it.

Reagan snickered under her breath. “Should we stop them before your brother and Ripp kill each other?”

I nudged her forward. “Lead the way.”

We walked past all the people on the treadmills, but the room had slowly started to thin out since it was about closing time. Ripp had just slammed Ethan to the ground when Reagan cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Hey boys, look who I found at the airport!”

Braden and Brooks looked down at us just as Ripp rolled off Ethan. Their shocked expressions were priceless. Ethan jumped out of the ring first and rushed over, lifting me in his sweaty arms. “Holy shit, you’re actually here!” He swung me around, and I squealed with laughter. When he set me down, I held onto him until the room stopped spinning. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said, not entirely lying.

Ripp, Braden, and Brooks joined us, and I hugged them, ending with Braden. He was a lot muscular from the last time I saw him, with some brand-new tattoos on his arms. “It’s so good to see you all.”

Braden smiled down at my body. “Same to you. You’re looking sexy as hell.”

Ethan glared at him and punched his arm. “Hey, shitdick, that’s my sister.”

“What?” Braden countered with a shrug. “She is. It’s not like I’m going to coax her into the back room and fuck her senseless.” Then he winked at me and lowered his voice. “Not unless that’s what you want. I’ve tried getting your sister in there, and she shoots me down every time.”

Reagan snorted behind me, and I chuckled. “Oh, Braden, I’ve missed you.” He could always get me to laugh.

I turned to Brooks, the only one out of all the guys who didn’t have tattoos. It was how everyone could tell him apart from Ripp. “I heard you’re leaving for a special FBI training camp,” I said to him. He’d already completed his basic training but had been selected to go even further, whatever that meant. From what I gathered, even Brooks didn’t know what it entailed. I looked forward to finding out when he returned.

Nodding, Brooks smiled. “I leave in two weeks. You came back at the right time to see me off.”

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