Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
“That was a hell of a fight,” he says.
I nod. “Yep.”
“I just want to say there are no hard feelings.”
“Why would there be hard feelings?”
He looks at me, his face lined with surprise. “Don’t you think the beating you put on me was a little … excessive? It was an exhibition.”
“It was a fight. There was a purse at stake.”
He scoffs. “The purse was five hundred bucks. Did you really need to pound me like that for five hundred bucks?”
“Whether it’s five hundred bucks or five million, you should know me well enough by now that I’m going to give you everything I got. If you weren’t ready for that smoke, that’s your fault.”
Tommy frowns, sucking in a bit of air through his teeth and shrugs. “Yeah. I guess so. Still, you could have eased up at the end.”
“And when have you ever known me to ease up, Tommy?”
He’s trying to offer up an olive branch, but I’m still pissed at him for popping off about Grace. It’s not that I don’t like Tommy. Outside of the ring, he and I get on well enough. We’re not best friends. I mean, we’ve gone out and had a few beers, but we’re not super tight. But hearing him saying such vile things about Grace really set me off. And when he said those things, there was no question in my mind I was going to keep pounding on him until I beat those thoughts right out of his head. It seems like he got the message.
“Anyway, you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to find out what the fuck that was all about the other night? It seemed extra to me,” he says. “What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on with me.”
“Seems like it. I mean, it’s like you just flipped a switch and went all savage on me. Money on the line or not, I’ve honestly never seen you like that before. So, what’s up with you?”
I run the towel over my face again, buying myself a little time. Heart-to-heart talks aren’t something I normally partake in. With anybody. Which makes the thought of having one with Tommy, somebody I consider more an acquaintance than a friend, even stranger to me. The truth is, thanks to all the fakes, phonies, and takers I’ve had pass through my life, I’ve distanced myself from almost everybody. I have nobody to talk to. Honestly, even if I want to, I don’t think I’d know how.
Tommy looks at me with an expression like a light is going off in his head. “Oh, this is about the girl. The redhead who was sitting ringside. You’re pissed because of the things I was saying. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Just drop it.”
“No, seriously. Is that why you went all fucking psycho killer on me?”
“I said drop it.”
“Come on, man. We’ve known each other a while, and you’ve never acted like that before,” Tommy says. “I only want to understand.”
Anger is heating the blood in my veins. The last thing I want to be doing right now is having this touchy-feely fucking conversation with him. I don’t have anything against Tommy, but if I was going to have an open-heart kind of conversation with anybody, it’d be Gracie. Talking to her, opening up, and sharing like I did with her the other night was … good. Strangely good. I walked away from that somehow lighter. It was like the burden I’d been carrying on my back for longer than I could even remember somehow lessened.
“If she’s your girl, I didn’t know, man. I would never—”
I shake my head. “I only met her that night.”
Tommy cocks his head. “You beat me like that over a girl who was a stranger to you?”
“She didn’t deserve the sort of disrespectful shit you were spewing, bro.”
“You dating her?”
“What? No,” I snap. “Like I said, I only met her that night.”
Tommy puts his hands up, his palms facing me in mock surrender. “All right, all right. My bad, man. I’m just saying—”
“You shouldn’t finish that sentence.”
He chuckles. “All I was going to say is that I’ve never seen you flip out like that over a chick before. She obviously got under your skin. And if you’re that deep into her, you should do something about it. You should take her out.”
I’ve got her number in my phone, but for whatever reason, I haven’t actually worked up the nut to call her just yet. I want to. I want to see her again. But there’s this voice in the back of my fucking head that keeps whispering in my ear. It keeps telling me she’s too young. It keeps telling me I’m more than a decade older than Grace and I have no business spending time with her. Worse than that, it keeps telling me I’m not good enough for her. That she can—and should—do better than me. I want to see her again, but the constant yammering of that goddamn voice has conspired to keep me from calling her.