Feeling brave, Fernandez leaps again, this time his fist swooshing past Keller’s face as Keller leans back just out of reach. Keller’s response is to grin, taunting Fernandez. The other man scowls, determined to land another blow, and starts aggressively pursuing Keller. Every step Fernandez takes forward is met by a step backwards by Keller. Over and over, they dance around the cage. Finally, a growling Fernandez runs out of patience and goes for it, leaping into Keller’s space, determined to grab his waist and bring him down.
Anticipating his move, Keller lands a quick jab to Fernandez’s face, shoves him back by the shoulders, and executes a perfect diagonal kick to the side of his head.
Fernandez crashes to the mat in a sweaty mound. Keller jumps on top of him, immediately maneuvering him into an arm bar, threatening to break his joint at the elbow if he doesn’t tap out. Fernandez makes a weak attempt to get out of the hold, but he’s still too dazed from the blow to his head to do anything effective.
The ref is about to call the fight when Fernandez taps his hand on Keller’s leg, which is wrapped tightly around his neck.
Keller lets go and gracefully leaps to his feet, leaving a gasping Fernandez on the ground. Gabriel and Pete cheer from the corner where Keller accepts a bottle of water.
The crowd in the arena is going crazy, cheering and shouting in disbelief. Twenty-four seconds. That’s how long it took for Keller to get his first AFL submission. Did he even break a sweat? I watch Keller drink, the long, sexy curve of his throat working to swallow the water. He hands the bottle back to Pete and his eyes search out the front row until he finds me. Chills rush over my skin and can’t hide the pleasure wracking my body from his pointed stare. His eyes say what he can’t—I want you, I did this for you, this isn’t over between us.
“Fuck, that was fast,” Max mumbles.
The officials enter the cage, pulling Keller away to announce his victory. The moment between us over, I turn to Max. The desire to rub Keller’s win in his face ricochets loudly in my head. With a sigh, I tamp it down, not wanting or needing any more animosity between the two men.
“Yeah, it was,” I agree, and stand up. “I’m going back to make sure everything is okay.”
“You’re not going to watch Jack fight?” Max looks both surprised and irritated at my decision.
I frown at Max. “I’m the therapist. I have to check on the fighters,” I snap. I’ll be back in time.” I walk off without further explanation.
So much for no animosity.
It takes forever to push through the throngs of spectators, employees, and reporters to get to the training room backstage. With all the jostling, the nearness of so many strangers, an uncomfortable tightness begins squeezing my lungs. With each accidental shove or bump, the feeling increases, sending my pulse skyrocketing. I clutch my chest, spots beginning to appear in my peripheral vision. No, no, no. I’ve been doing so good. I can’t have a panic attack on the floor of the Nevada Desert Arena. Trembling, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, blindly making my way to the hallway lined with training rooms.
After an eternity, I grab the knob with a sweaty hand and duck inside, slamming and locking the door, leaving the loud group of nosy journalists on the other side.
“You okay, Britt?” Gabriel is staring at me, concern marring his kind features.
Keller is sitting on the edge of the table, his hands out for Gabriel to unwrap. His dark head of hair lifts and shining gunmetal eyes lock onto mine. Keller’s mouth drops open for a brief moment before his expression changes from shock to rage.
“What happened?” Keller demands, jumping off the table to stalk over to me. Sharp eyes rove over my body, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt? Who did this to you?”
“W-what?” I’m still recovering from the adrenaline that flooded my bloodstream, so my mind is slow to respond. “I-I don’t…” I close my eyes and shake my head. “What did you ask?”
“Gabriel!” Keller’s loud voice startles me, sending my poor heart stumbling back into overdrive.
“Yes?” Gabriel is behind Keller’s shoulder.
“I need a moment alone with Britt.”
Gabriel’s brow furrows as he thinks over the request. His dark eyes find mine and somehow, I manage to nod that it’s okay.
“All right, Killer. Congratulations. I will go talk to those sharks.” He jabs a thumb at the door.
Numb, I allow Keller to maneuver me out of the way so Gabriel can exit the room. The door clicks softly behind him and Keller locks it before scooping me up in his arms to set me on the padded exam table. He nudges my knees apart until he’s standing between my legs.
“Britt, tell me what happened?” His tone is soft, calm, but I can tell he’s far from calm. Keller runs his hands over my skin, searching for injuries.
I squeeze my eyes shut, lowering my head. “Nothing. Just…”
“Hey. Look at me, baby.”