Love Tap(59)

“Yeah, well she also hasn’t been put into a cage and demanded to act like an animal. Which is exactly why I don’t want her to go into The Underground.” I pull myself into the ring, declaring this conversation over.

“You’re holding her back!” Thomas hollers.

“No, I’m keeping her alive.” Both spiritually and physically.

***

Shadow boxing myself to release some of this aggression, Pinky steps up to the mat, his hand wrapped up like a taco. He’s not wearing any gear, showing off his brown gelled hair.

“Hey, I heard the news about Tate,” he smiles a dopey grin. I eye his hand, my chest constricting with the urge to climb out of this ring and beat Chase within in inch of his life.

Huffing, I climb down and grab the towel off his shoulder.

“Your hand going to be okay?” I ask concerned.

He shrugs, looking away. “It’s a risk being in the ring with you guys. I know that.”

If only he knew how much of a sadistic * Chase was, he wouldn’t be so accepting.

“Don’t spar with that * again, Pinky.” I can’t control the authority in my tone as I demand him to stay away from Chase.

“Why?” He looks at me with wide eyes.

I inhale a breath, wondering myself why I’m getting in the middle of this. Maybe it’s because Pinky is so young and really needs someone to look out for him.

“Just, listen to me, yeah? Chase ain’t right in the head, he’s dangerous,” I continue.

“Alright,” he mutters. “You excited for the big fight Tate landed?” he changes the subject.

Wiping my forehead of the beaded sweat I say, “I’m not sure Tate knows what she’s getting herself into.”

“So… show her.” He shrugs.

“What do you mean?” I’m doing my best showing her what to expect inside the ring.

“Take her to a fight. There’s a MFC one in South Dakota tomorrow night.”

My eyes widen at the information. Biting my cheek I think about it. My thoughts scattering as excitement takes place at taking Tate to her very first fight. It would be a good idea to let her see firsthand what it’s like inside the octagon. Tickets won’t be cheap, but that is why I have Kaley. She’ll find the best, or possibly find them free.

“That’s a good idea. Thanks for looking out,” I praise, and give him a fist bump. I grab my phone off the side of the ring and text Kaley.

Hey, I need something from you. -C

Need me to give you another alibi? Get rid of a woman? -K

I frown. The way she puts it like that I sound like an *.

No, I need two tickets to tomorrow night’s fight in South Dakota. -C

Three dots pop up, then stop, then start back up again.

Finally, actual work! And a public appearance. Is this a prank? It’s not funny. -K

My fingers freeze in reply. Shit, cameras will be everywhere.

Just get them. -C

Placing the phone back on the ring, I head toward the women’s locker room. It’s really more like a storage closet, but Tate hasn’t complained.

Stepping inside I find Tate wiping her sweaty chest with a towel. I could be a gentleman and turn away, but who said I was a gentleman to begin with?

“Hey,” I announce my presence.

She smiles, continuing to wipe herself down.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to come into a women’s locker room?” She peers under her thick lashes, and that sultry look goes right to my dick.

“Really? So if I threw you up against those lockers right now, you’d still want me to leave?” I bite at my lip, my eyebrow raised.

Her cheeks stain a cute pink, and it takes everything I have not to do just that.

Stepping up to her, I brush a hair behind her ear.

“Breathe,” I whisper, and her body sags with an exhale. Goddamn I love how much I affect her.

She turns, and opens her locker.

“Hold that ego of yours down. I was holding my breath because you smell.”

She turns with a smug smirk on her face, and tosses me some deodorant.

I laugh, and toss it back at her.

“I think you might need this more than me,” I wink.

She catches it and shrugs before applying it vigorously. This is what I love about her, she’s one of the guys. She’s not in here gossiping, or fussing over her hair. She’s being… her.

Grabbing her shoulders I start to massage them, and she instantly molds into my hands. Her neck rolling as she moans. Her skin is sticky, and the heat rolling off of her makes me want to devour every inch of her with my tongue.

“There’s this thing tomorrow night I want to take you to—”

“What kind of thing?” She glances over her shoulder.

“A surprise thing. I want to take you to it.”

Her shoulders tense, and she steps forward.

“You mean a date?”

My eyes widen, and my palms sweat with the question. When we were kids we went on two dates. One was a Tuesday night Taco night and we went with some friends. Kind of like a double date… it went horribly wrong. Everyone was snickering behind Tate’s back because she didn’t dress to their liking for date night. I still remember the way she looked as if it were yesterday. She was beautiful in her short jean shorts, dark blue tank top, and that yellow sports bra. She had dark bruises on her knees, and the way her faced glowed from the summer heat had me staring at her all night. She was natural, down to earth, and took my breath away.