Caged (Mastered, #4)(143)
He laughed. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Even if I lose tonight—”
“You’re not gonna lose,” Maddox assured him.
“But even if I do get my ass kicked, I’ve already signed with Smackdown, so they’ll have to suck it up and come up with a new strategy for me.”
Maddox lifted his head. His eyes were shrewd. “When did this signing happen?”
“Last night Molly and I had dinner with the suits. They made their pitch. My woman took the contract back to the hotel and went over it with a magnifying glass, because she’s smart like that. They agreed to strike two of the paragraphs about promotional requirements she disagreed with. So it’s a done deal.”
“Congrats, man. That is awesome.”
Maddox’s enthusiasm was completely faked—which made zero sense. “You pissed about it?”
“Nah. I’m happy for you. But since I’ve been helping you navigate this stuff the last year, it sorta feels like you’re firing me as your business manager.”
“That job never should’ve fallen on your shoulders, Mad, and it did by default. You’re my trainer. That doesn’t mean I won’t talk to you about the business side of my fight career. It just means I’ll be talking to Molly first.”
After a moment, Maddox said, “As it should be. She’s a good woman, D.”
“She’s the best.” Deacon formed a fist with his right hand and released it. “Speaking of women . . . Presley is here.”
“I thought Molly could use a friend on fight night.”
No f*cking way. Maddox was blushing. “Right. You brought her a thousand miles for Molly.” Deacon couldn’t resist making kissing noises.
“You’re a f*ckhead.”
“You ain’t denying that you brought Presley here for yourself, dude.”
Maddox sighed. “It’s complicated, all right?”
“You f*cking her won’t uncomplicate it.”
“I’m not f*cking her.”
“Not yet,” Deacon said. “How long has this been goin’ on?”
“Since LA.” Maddox finished wrapping Deacon’s left hand and reached for his right. “And since when do you care about this personal crap? I thought I could count on you not to give me a rash of shit about it.”
“You thought wrong. I’m a new man, bein’s I’m in lurve and all. I’m a softer, more understanding man. A kinder, gentler—” Deacon snorted. “Fuck. I couldn’t even say that shit with a straight face.”
“Yep, it’s obvious you’re still an *. So let’s get back on track and go over fight strategy.”
An hour later, when Deacon entered the event center, he wasn’t nervous.
That’s because you’ve got this, bro.
After the glove and body check, he scanned the seats until his gaze landed on her. Sitting in his corner.
Deacon knew that no matter what happened tonight, he’d already won what mattered most.