Yeah, that’s how it is with Raven. One minute I’m free, navigating the waters of my life, and, now, I feel a tug.
“What’s up, man? Where is everyone?” Rex calls as he makes his way to the mats to warm up.
“They should be here.” I answer absently, still trying to pull my head out of my ass. “Yo, T-Rex. You missed a couple.” I motion to my eyebrow and lip.
“Shit, man. Thanks.” Rex removes the small barbell from his eyebrow and ring from his lip and places them on the bench.
I stretch my arms and roll my neck. “Where’s Caleb?”
“He’s here, just wrapping his ankle in the locker room.” Rex motions over his shoulder where I see Caleb making his way to the mats.
“Y’all talkin’ about me?” Caleb’s telltale, country-boy accent echoes off the walls. Owen sneaks up behind him, and smacks the back of his head. “Ow, dick!”
Owen ignores Caleb’s pained remark. “You done wrapping your ankle, sweetheart?”
Caleb rubs the back of his head.
“You guys get warmed up, and we’ll break into teams for grappling.” Owen’s order is all business. He’s one of the best coaches in MMA, and when he gets down to it, he doesn’t fuck around.
“You bitches ready to get your asses handed to you?” Blake strolls toward the mats. Late.
The group grumbles and throws back a number of different taunts and insults before we pair off and take our places. This title fight is an accumulation of everything I’ve been working for since I started fighting. It’s the single biggest accomplishment of my life. And I’ll be damned if a girl is going to rob me of my goal. Never.
A few hours into training and I’m breathing deep. Sweat coats my skin, proving without question that I worked hard. I welcome the burn of my muscles and the flood of endorphins that blur the thoughts of a certain female.
Owen calls time. “Take five and we’ll hit the bags.”
We all grab our waters and stretch on the floor.
Caleb flops down next to me lying flat on his back. “Where are we watching the game this weekend?”
“Not my place.” I swig from my water bottle.
“Jonah’s it is.” Owen decides for the group.
I scowl at him and contemplate sweeping his legs. “The fuck you say?”
He shrugs in my direction.
Blake’s standing, grabbing his ankle to stretch his quad. “Sweet. I’ll bring the pizza.”
“I’ll get the beer.” Rex’s voice calls out from behind me.
“Shit, no. I said not at my place.”
Caleb nods to Rex. “Game starts at three so we should be there by two.”
“Fucking assholes.” It’s like I’m not even here.
Rex’s dumb ass looks right past me. “Don’t forget, I have a show that night. Sound check’s at seven. Ghost Bar. We can all head over to the club after the game.”
“You guys want me to bring the Wii?” Caleb puts on his gloves, his eyes darting from dickhead to dickhead, overlooking me.
“No. No fucking Wii.” What started as watching a game at my house has turned into a party, and knowing these guys, they’ll stay all weekend.
“Oh come on, Vajonah.” Blake’s cocky smile makes me clench my fist. “You worried we might dirty your kitchen?” He lifts one eyebrow.
I spear him with a glare. As if one douche bag giving me shit isn’t enough, I don’t need the group giving me a hard time.
“All right, fine. But no pizza. I’ll throw something on the grill. I can’t eat that shit this close to the fight.” Defeated and pissed as hell, I strap on my gloves.
“If you’re going to grill, I’ll bring Nikki. She can whip up some healthy shit in the kitchen and sit by the pool.”
Owen’s wife Nikki is a nutritionist and kicks all kinds of ass in the kitchen. That alone makes this worth it.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll bring some girls so Nik will have chicks to hang out with.” The group goes still, staring at Blake. “What?”
Everyone knows the kind of girls Blake keeps company with. I’m not interested in having a bunch of jock-sniffing groupies around, and Blake travels with a fucking harem.
Owen looks at Blake, a grin pulling at his lips. “This should be interesting.”
Blake glares at Owen. “That was a long time ago, man. You two weren’t married yet.”
“Nah, but Nikki sure didn’t appreciate your bitches rubbing up on my shit.” Owen laughs and shrugs.
“How can you laugh?” Blake throws his arms out to his sides. “Nik broke that chick’s nose.”
Owen’s laughter answers Blake’s question.
I cross my arms at my chest. “I don’t want a house full of your knob polishers.”
“Hey, a player needs lovin’ too.”
“No more than two, Blake. I’m serious,” I warn.
“Yeah, I got it.” He dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
He doesn’t get it.
I tilt my head, feeling the side of my lip curl into a smile. “Say it, Blake. Say, ‘I promise, Jonah, I won’t bring more than two chicks to your barbeque’.”
Blake’s eyes narrow. “Are you fucking serious? I said I got it.”