Fighting Fate (Fighting Series) (Fighting #6)(17)
“Why are you blushing?”
Fuck. My face is burning up. “I’m not. It’s hot as hell in here.” Has nothing to do with thinking about filling your ho—
“I’ll turn on the fan.” She hits the switch on the wall, and then her fingers fly over the keys of her phone. She’s texting the prick back, and if I know Ax, she’s apologizing for doing nothing wrong.
God, I hate that guy.
The five-tone chime from Close Encounters of the Third Kind sounds from my pocket and I grab my phone. I don’t even care who’s calling, anything to take my mind off Axelle kissing Clifford’s ass via text message.
“Hello?”
“Killer, where the fuck are you?” I check the caller ID and see he’s not calling from his cell, but from his office.
I sit up at the demand in Cam’s voice. The guy has no conversational tone. He could be reading Shakespeare, and it would sound like he’s commanding an army. “Blake and Jonah told me to take a day off.”
My explanation is met with silence, which makes my palms sweat.
“Wait. What are you doing there? It’s Saturday.”
“Came in to talk to you, but your training partners seem to think they run this organization.” He mumbles something I can’t make out before dropping a pretty hefty f-bomb. “How fast can you get here?”
Cam says jump; I say how high and at what velocity. “Ten minutes.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Um…can you give me a heads up—?”
The line goes dead.
I tuck the phone back into my pocket, and Axelle’s still texting. Now her fingers are really moving, and a hint of anger pinches her usually smooth forehead.
“You think Mindy and Naked Heisman are done out there?”
She peers up at me and smiles. Fuck, she always manages to take my breath away. “No clue.”
“I gotta run. Cam’s waiting for me.”
“Oh, okay. Then sure, just storm on through. I’d keep your head down though, ya know, just in case they’re going at it in the kitchen.”
I cross to her door and tug her ponytail as I pass. “Talk to you later.”
“Wait.” She blinks and swallows before setting those piercing blue eyes on me. “Thanks for helping me out last night. I mean I’m sure I would’ve been fine, but—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m always here if you need me.” I motion to the door. “I really need to go.”
“Yes, go.” She plucks the shirt she’s wearing with her fingers. “I’ll wash this and get it back to you on Monday.”
“No hurry. See ya.” I head from her room, keeping my eyes to the floor, and it’s a good thing I do because, when I pass Mindy’s room, her door is wide open, and I’m assaulted by the hushed whispers of a very heated good-bye.
Five
Killian
I knock twice on Cameron’s door and wait for him to give me permission to enter. It’s cracked, but without Eve or Layla here to let me in, I don’t dare presume by barging in.
“Yeah, come on in.”
I push inside to find him sitting at his desk, his eyes pinned to a computer screen. His huge hands dwarf the keyboard as he types using his pointer fingers. “If I’m interrupting, I can come back.”
He hits me with the full force of his scowl. When I first started working at the UFL, I’d nearly piss myself every time he looked at me, but now I understand that’s just his resting scary-badass-do-not-fuck-with-me face. “Sit.”
I take the single seat opposite him, and his chair moans in protest as he leans back. “I have an opportunity I’d like to discuss with you. You know Caleb’s training over in England?”
“Yeah.” He’s turning out some kickass fighters and making a name for not only himself but for the UFL.
“We’ve been talking, and I think it’s time you get some fights under your belt.”
My pulse jacks up, and I try hard not to grin like a moron.
“How would you feel about a year overseas?”
“Overseas? You’re sending me to England?”
“I’d like to, yeah. Hugo Webb is ready. I’d like to promote a UK-versus-USA fight. You go, take a few months to train with Caleb, promote. Opportunity of a lifetime for a new fighter, Kill. We could line up a few fights in a year’s time. You’d be stupid not to jump on it.”
“How is it UK versus USA if I’m training in England?”
“Caleb’s always been USA. He’ll be your main trainer. Makes more sense to keep you there with him rather than fly you back and forth every four months.”
“Three fights in a year?”
“Big-ticket fights.”
It’s everything I always wanted, just…not exactly where I wanted. I blink, trying to absorb the offer when my mind screams one name.
Axelle.
“But, what about school? I’m on an academic scholarship and—”
“It’s only a year. This semester just started. You drop your classes, get over there, and when you get back, you can pick up where you left off. As far as your scholarship goes, if they can’t put it on hold for a year, I can guarantee you’ll make enough money fighting for a year to pay for eight years in college.”