Tyed(6)

“I admit, up until now I thought MMA was all about illegal cage fighting and broken teenage boys looking for redemption.” I bite back an uneasy giggle, thinking about Ty. The posters behind Dawson’s head, of upcoming events, make my skin crawl, and so does the crazy twinkle in his eyes when he talks about violence.

“But that’s exactly what my guys are.” His mouth curves into a smile. “What they were, at least. Now? Now they're a sliver of the American dream. Power, money, brutality. Can’t get more primal than that.”

I thank Dawson and arrange to visit his gym at least four days a week while I’m working on my assignment, but he isn’t satisfied with my huge commitment. Nope. Dawson insists I should participate in one of the gym’s classes, see what all the fuss is about. I explain I’m grateful for the opportunity, but that I would probably kill myself by accident if I ever tried MMA.

After a long exchange of “no’s” and “yes’s”, we settle for me participating in a class of my choice sometime next week. Yay, right?

Wrong.

I’m so out of my depth here. The sport, the blood, the men…the Ty.

I'm not even sure how he drilled himself into my head, but I'll probably outgrow our encounter within the next couple of days. It looks like Brain and Hormones are in for a fight. Just as long as Heart stays out of the ring.

***

The next day I sleep until noon. Shane bailed on hanging out last night. Still, I’m exhausted from the thoughts swirling in my head in a jumbled whirlwind. The XWL gym is like a dancing flame. I’m intrigued, but I don’t want to get burned.

I wish I could get Professor Penniman to let me change topics. I’m not looking forward to visiting the XWL gym again today. Dawson called after our meeting and he’s arranged for me to meet with his two stars this afternoon. No classes, he promised. Just the interviews I asked to conduct with his two elite fighters. Well, at least I won't have to sweat.

I collapse on the couch and consider asking Izzy for advice. She’s sent a bunch of pictures of Japan to my phone. She’s moved on from Singapore to Tokyo.

The doorbell interrupts just as I’m about to call her. The chime shoots me out of my seat.

I’m not expecting anyone.

I gaze through the peephole and see Shane staring right back at me, pretending to hump my door theatrically. Laughing, I open the door, watching him troop into my luxury apartment— nine foot ceiling, designer finishes and all that jazz—holding a box from the bakery near my complex, The Sweetest Affair. His favorite. My favorite.

“Such a pleasant surprise.” I offer a devious grin.

“Don’t make a guy blush.”

“I’m talking to whatever’s inside that box.”

“Cupcakes. You know how much I love pleasing you, B.” His words seem to hang in the air as he swings my fridge open.

He pours himself some coffee with milk, while I demolish half the box in one go, then let out a delicate burp.

“Always a lady,” he teases, though I know Shane well enough to recognize that he does consider me too much of a tomboy.

He’s always been drawn to the girlie type. Izzy is the one exception. She's about as girlie as they come, but he seems to almost hate her. I never understood why they don’t get along. Neither of them explained why they stopped talking altogether shortly after he traveled abroad, and while I tried to milk some info about their beef, I didn't push the subject with either of them since I couldn't afford losing Shane as a friend or Izzy as a roommate.

“Well, this lady has to go to the XWL gym in Concord to work on that article Professor Penniman assigned. What’s your topic anyway? You never said.”

He rubs the back of his neck, squeezing his eyes shut. "Elizabeth's Passion."

The slow grin spreading across my face says it all. Hello, Shane, meet Fate.

"You mean you'll actually have to talk to Izzy and…” I fake a gasp. "Ask for her help?"

"I'm trying to find a way around it. Maybe my good friend here can help me out."

This explains the cupcakes. What it doesn't explain is why Shane is doing everything he can to avoid my twin. They used to be cool with each other growing up.

"You don't want me anywhere near your assignment. I'm college poison, remember?"

He grimaces, knowing how right I am.

"Whatever issues you have with Izzy, get over ’em. I'm sure she's way past the subject. I talk about you all the time and she’s never said a word about you. She probably doesn't even remember who you are."

By the flare of his nostrils, I realize I just said something incredibly stupid.

I quickly backpedal. "Don't worry. Just talk to her. Anyway, wanna come with me?” I slap his thigh.

I could use his support. The Grind makes me feel uncomfortable, and the possibility of running into Ty makes me feel even more self-conscious, so I'd really appreciate it if my best friend would tag along.

“I came this morning in the shower, but I would love to come again.” The next thing he does happens very quickly. I feel his hand gripping my thigh. And not just for a moment, but he actually takes the time to squeeze. It takes me a few seconds to register what's happening. So sudden, so unexpected, so...crazy. My gape travels from my assaulted thigh to his teal eyes as I sit on the barstool.