Cam’s voice reminds me that not only will my fight be seen by my crew here in London, but by my UFL family back home.
Including Axelle, if she’s watching. It’s the only time I give myself permission to think about her, but not in the way I’m accustomed to. There’s no pathetic, heartsick longing, only pride that if she is watching she’ll get to see what her influence created. Beyond everything else, I want her to feel the satisfaction that she made a difference in my life.
“We’re all here cheering you on.” There are voices in the background, both male and female, but I can’t focus on that now. I have a fight to win.
“Appreciate the opportunity, Cam. I won’t let you down.”
“I have no doubt about that. Now get out there and kick some ass.”
“Will do.” I hand the phone off to Caleb, and the door swings open to reveal a stocky guy with a headset mic and a clipboard.
“You’re up!”
My team surrounds me from behind. We follow Caleb out the door and down a long corridor where a crowd of thousands can be heard from beyond it. We wait for our cue to enter, and the excited energy bouncing between us is palpable.
A hand reaches up to remove my earphones from my neck and my iPod. I pull my eyes away from the stadium to see Fleur diligently removing my music. At my quick nod of thanks, she doesn’t smile back, her fight mask clearly in place just like all the other members of our team.
The lights go dark.
My pulse pounds behind my ribs.
The ticking sound of AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” rings through the arena and the crowd explodes.
Caleb turns to me and scowls. “It’s go time.”
“Fuck yeah, it is.”
I lead my crew into the arena filled with screaming fans for my first UFL fight, hoping like hell I don’t fuck it all up.
~*~
Axelle
Is that really him?
I squint to focus on the television in the lobby of the UFL Training Center. Cameron has a projector set up in the main training room where he’s cleared away most of the mats and equipment, and a catering company has replaced them with tables, chairs, and enough food to feed a small country.
Thankfully, he also has the fight pumping into every television in the place, including the small lobby where I can recline on a comfy couch and watch the fight without an audience.
Killian walks—no, walking is too tame. He prowls through the crowd to the octagon like a man who’s done this a thousand times. I recognize Caleb closest to his side, but everyone else is a stranger to me.
All except Fleur.
I’ve never met the girl, yet I’ve stalked her on every available social media site, which makes me feel like I’ve known her for years. I know she drinks wine, red mostly, that she indulges in reality television, and that she hits a French bakery for chocolate croissants that remind her of home.
Her brother, the tall blond with the light brown eyes is Olivier. He fights in Killian’s weight class and has only lost one fight out of seven. Fleur hasn’t had an official fight yet, but that’s only because the female UFL team hasn’t quite taken off in the UK yet. See. We’re practically best fucking friends.
Killian rips his shirt off and my jaw falls wide open. Holy hell, he’s grown. I mean he’s always been big, but he’s more defined now. His muscles seem to stand out more than before. I growl as the camera shot moves to Hugo Webb as he enters the arena. He dances around and plays to the crowd. What a cocky asshole! I hope Kill destroys him. He points to Killian and laughs, making the crowd erupt in a series of cheers and boos. Blake always told me the fighters with the biggest show have the least amount of talent. I hope he’s right.
The shot goes back to Killian, and my entire body warms upon seeing him. He looks prepared, confident, as if every single day of his life has been in preparation for this moment.
My chest swells with pride. “I’m so happy for you, Kill. You deserve this more than anyone.”
“You know he can’t hear you, right?”
I jump at the sound of Ryder’s voice. His crooked grin and barely concealed laughter make me want to backhand his pretty face. “Of course I do, idiot.”
“You’re talking to a television in a room alone, and I’m the idiot.” He drops down on the couch next