“Can’t sleep?” she mumbles half asleep. I furrow my brows in thought and take a deep breath.
“Do you think I could get back into the ring? You saw me, did you ever for a second think I didn’t have control?” I sound vulnerable and I hate it, but if anyone will tell me the truth, it’s Tate.
She turns, propping her head on her hand, her blonde hair falling in her face. Her eyes are half open, and her face has that sleepy glow that I love.
“Not at all. I mean you were crazy mad, but you had control. You were stopping yourself before I ever said anything. You just needed an extra push is all.”
I bite my bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth.
“If I accept a fight, will you be there just in case I need that extra push?” My heart pounds in my chest, hoping she will accept. I understand if she doesn’t, she has her own career to look after.
“I’ll be at every fight Camden,” her words are laced with so much care it takes me aback.
Taking my sight off the ceiling I glance at her, tucking a hair behind her ear. She’s smiling, her eyes proud that I’m going to attempt following my dreams.
I really love this woman. She drives me mad and insane. But I love her.
“I have something for you.”
She wakes up. “Me?”
Pushing myself off the bed I step over to a box in the corner of my room. I still haven’t unpacked, and find the little blue box sitting under some clothes.
I open it, finding the necklace with the two gloves tapping each other.
Closing it, I hand it to her.
“I was going to give this to you the day you were leaving for college.”
She sits up, crossing her legs Indian style before opening.
She gasps, her hands cupping her mouth. My forehead sweats, waiting for her to say something.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah?” I exhale with relief. I wasn’t sure if she’d like it when we were kids, let alone now.
“Help me put it on?” Her innocent eyes find mine and I realize right then I never want to be without her. The thought of her ever looking at another man like she is me right now causing a panic attack to rise in my chest.
I help her put it on, and kiss her neck.
“Marry me?”
She stills, her hand dropping from holding her hair up. Blonde tresses framing her face.
“Are you sure?”
I laugh. “Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“No, I just—”
“Marry me,” I demand, not asking this time.
Turning she cups my face, kissing me hard. She sits up on her knees nearly knocking me back she’s so excited.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she mumbles against my lips between each kiss.
My pulse beats wildly in my neck as I think about Tate being my wife. The maddening woman being mine forever.
Spinning us I drop her to the mattress on her back, planning on making love to her.
My fiancée.
My boxing buddy.
My best friend.
Chapter Thirty-Three
One Week Later
Camden
Hitting the bag, I displays I don’t have cage rust, and can still fight. My new coach watches pensively, his eyes narrowed with focus. His name is Les and he’s fifty-three years old, and a retired MMA fighter. He’s strict, but has a lot of respect for the sport.
“You definitely have a strong hit, Camden. Let’s see what you have when it comes to grappling.” Les points at a man standing outside the ring. “Camden, this is Franklin, he’s going to be your own living breathing punching bag.”
Franklin is the same height as me, looks to be the same age. Only difference is he has a bleach blond pretty boy haircut, and an eagle tattooed on his chest. He’ll be a good sparring buddy, but he’s not Pinky. I should refer Pinky here, he’d have a much better outcome and he could be my personal sparring partner.
Until then, this guy will have to do.
Franklin tries to grab me and I turn on my feet putting him into a chokehold. He’s not very quick, and doesn’t seem very experienced.
He tries to kick at my feet and I drop him to the ground. Instantly going into an arm bar. My movements are fluid in their execution.
“Nice!” Coach Les praises. Letting go of Franklin, he coughs on his hands and knees. “You’re a little rough around the edges, but I think you are ready for the ring my friend.” Les rubs at the dark stubble on his chin looking me over.
Excitement and nerves spike a storm in my chest. I don’t know whether to be happy or fucking scared. I haven’t been in a professional ring in years.
The crowd could hate me after the way I left things. My exit in Vegas still haunts me to this day. I’m not sure anyone will forget it.
Tate steps into the ring, her body glistening with sweat from her own workout. She’s still sore and isn’t ready to train at the level she was, but Les wants her stretching and doing light workouts so she doesn’t lose too much muscle.
Switching to this gym was the best thing for us both. It’s more up-to-date and as far as I can tell the coaches aren’t money hungry bastards.