No, no. It can’t be up to me. I’m already too close to giving in. “That’s not fair.”
“Can’t do it can you?” He grins.
He’s got me. I tilt my mouth up toward his. “Not if my life depended on it.”
Just as Trent’s mouth softly touches mine, the bedroom door swings open. We break apart. My heart jumps into my throat.
“Caleb?” Trent groans. “Fuck. Can’t you knock?” It’s not just Caleb though. He’s got a woman tucked under his arm. Is that…Sonja, the head coach’s younger sister?
“Sorry man. I didn’t know you guys were—”
“We weren’t anything,” I interrupt Caleb, harnessing the slimmest morsel of my restraint. “I was just leaving.”
At the doorway I peek back over at Trent. He’s all in shadow so I can’t read his facial expression. That’s for the best. I can pretend he isn’t hurt or angry by what I said.
I can pretend it never almost happened.
Three
Trent
On Tuesday, I really do need to get a massage. And Della knows it. She could have canceled the appointment, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t.
Della will do anything to help these fighters perform their best. That includes me…but I do wonder if she’s been looking forward to our time together.
I know I have.
First I need to get through my training session. I usually spar with Caleb since we’re the closest in age, height, and overall ability, but I need to train for Bradley’s ground game. That, and I’m pretty sure Caleb is avoiding Coach Dean today, seeing as he tried to sneak away with his little sister Sonja at the party last weekend.
Now that’s some next-level shit I wouldn’t even think to try. When Coach Dean finds out, he’ll have Caleb’s ass on a platter.
So today my coaches pair me up with Dallas, a second-degree Brazilian jujutsu black belt and one of our most veteran fighters. A real legend. If I can keep Bradley on his feet, I can win.
Dallas lets me work him over in the ring. He’s got a mighty chin—I throw a lot of leather at him and he just bites down on his mouthpiece and keeps going. As much as I would love a dogfight with Bradley, I know it’s not going to go down like that.
At some point he will take the fight to the ground. Or try to at least.
Dallas ain’t doin’ me any favors letting me get in all my shots.
“You gonna take me down?” I gripe. I’ve got a belt to win in five days, an appointment with Della in five minutes, and I’m getting impatient.
“Not yet.” Dallas grins.
What the hell is he doing? I look over at Coach, and he just nods for us to continue.
It’s Dallas’s grave. I put some more pressure on him to see if that encourages him to switch levels. I get in a clean jab to his cheek and I can tell it rocks him. To be honest I’m a little concerned. He could really get hurt like this. He doesn’t need to push himself this hard.
Two minutes left on the clock. Time’s running out. He needs to go in for the takedown.
One minute.
Thirty seconds.
Ten.
Nine…
Just when I’m sure Dallas is going to skip trying to take me down at all this time, he dips lower and comes in for it, fast. I’m surprised but not unprepared.
I stun him with a knee to his sternum and follow through with elbows to the back of his neck, driving his head down to the mat. From here I have options—catch his neck in a choke, close the distance and go in for the takedown myself, backstep out of his range—but Coach whistles, signaling the end of our match.
Fuck! I can’t believe he waited until the last possible second to try and do what we came here for. I am pissed.
“What the hell, man?” I ball my hands into tighter fists. “He’s not going to throw the fight!”
Dallas juts his chin at me as I get too close. I just spent the better part of thirty minutes striking that damned jaw of his and there’s hardly a scratch. I throw a look over at Coach again.
Coach nods at Dallas. “You can tell him.”
“Alright.” Dallas takes a long while to catch his breath.
“I’ll wait,” I grit, impatient.
“You’re not a grappler,” he says, smug.
“No shit.”
“You’re Kenpo.” Dallas palms my chest. “It’s in your blood. You’re so determined to keep your fights from going down to the mat, your defensive game makes it almost impossible.”
“Bradley’s taken down—”
“Everyone else in your division.” He takes another few big gulps of air. “But watch him closer, see how he waits until the third or fourth round to do it. He waits for his opponents to run out of gas.”
“I don’t run out of gas,” I say.
“Exactly. We’re not training grappling this time. Because he won’t get the takedown. Don’t put pressure on him to. Those are nasty hits,” Dallas pants, rubbing his chin. “He’ll wait for you to lose wind and by the time that happens, the fight’ll be over.”
“And he’ll what, win by decision?”
“Nah. You’ll get him when he starts tryin’ to switch levels. Hold on until then. Let him tire out.”
“And he will,” Coach interjects.
“That’s when you show him your knockout power,” Dallas says.
“I didn’t knock you out,” I say.
“To no fault of your own.” He grins again. “No one knocks me out.”
I want to roll my eyes at that, but he’s right. In his fourteen-year professional career Dallas has never been knocked out in the Octagon. Not even last year when he suffered a concussion. We were just sparring but I admit, a couple of times I fueled those strikes with everything I’ve got.
Bradley doesn’t have that kind of chin.
I hope they’re right. They have to be. I don’t have reason not to trust them, and I’d be stupid not to. This is one of the world’s most elite training camps. That’s not something I take for granted.
I don’t take much of anything for granted. Not since me and my younger sister Marybelle were adopted and given the Valentine name when I was twelve and she was nine. I grew up way before I had to.
I’m wealthy, not spoiled. Young, but I ain’t a kid.
I know this: success is earned, not given. Only opportunities are given. The rest involves desire and a shit-ton of hard work and gratitude.
I cool off ringside, guzzle down half a bottle of water and wipe a towel down my face. When I look up again, I immediately see Della waiting for me across the gym floor, standing next to her office.
Those arresting dark-brown eyes. Her chest heaving up and down, as if she’d been watching the whole time. She smiles at me, and now I can feel my breath quicken.
My blood pumps harder through every distended vein as I head her way.
I once had nothing. I know what that feels like. It sucks.
Now I’m determined to get what I want out of this life.
Everything that I want.
And that girl right there…she’s at the very top of that list.
I want her.