Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(61)
It only takes a few minutes for the building to fill. Hands and arms push against my back, pushing and pulling me as best they can before they’re shoved back by either Clayton or Tyler. I can tell that the two men are becoming frustrated, but they try not to show it, keeping their mouths shut and their bodies tight.
It’s not until the ceiling lights transform from a bright white to a mesmerizing, shimmering gold that they break out in beaming smiles. A brick drops in my stomach as nerves begin to buzz under my skin. But my excitement to see Braden snuffs out the nerves like wet fingers to a small flame.
Smoke begins to crawl over our feet, slowly rising in the air until it toys with the bottoms of my leather pants. It swirls higher and higher before spilling over the edges of the boxing ring. I spot Brooks waiting beside the entrance to the hallway closest to us, and nearly choke on an inhale when a massive, shirtless figure begins moving towards him, meeting up with him in what feels like no time at all with a set of giraffe size legs. The voices around me become louder as each dawning second passes by until my ears beg to be covered, beginning to ache with the noise.
Suddenly, two rows of beaming white teeth come into focus, and I smile too, completely enamoured by the stunning confidence behind the star-studded smile. It’s a smile that breeds a sense of victory and worship that even I can’t ignore.
There’s a deep, husky voice shooting through what sounds like a microphone, but I ignore it, too busy watching the way Braden’s massive biceps stretch above his head and toes tap on the floor with a sort of grace that I never expected from such a big man. It probably sounds ridiculous considering boxers have incredible balance and control, but seeing the fluid way he moves his body has my mouth gaping in surprise.
Fingering the chain around my neck again, my blown gaze follows Braden as he finally makes his way into the shimmering light. A shiny black robe hangs loosely from his shoulders, leaving his defined chest bare for all to see. My mouth waters as the individual muscles flex on their own accord, almost as if to torture me.
An unmistakable itch of jealousy worms up my body at knowing that his miraculous body is on full display. It’s a ridiculous feeling, considering he isn’t even mine to begin with, but that doesn’t help settle me as much as I wish that it would.
Forcing my eyes to move from the solid abdomen in front of me, I drop them to the gold, mid-thigh length shorts that fit snugly to his muscular legs. The material stretches tight as he expertly hands his robe over to Brooks, who I’m beginning to realize is his father, and pulls open the velvety ropes to climb inside the ring. My eyes become saucers when I steal a glance at my gold attire, finally feeling the pieces fall together.
Well played, Braden. Well played.
He raises a fist in the air as the excited voices continue to praise him, no doubt adding to his already enormous ego. I can’t find it in me to care, though. I’m too busy letting a heavy sense of pride shine in my eyes as I stare at him, not daring to move my gaze from his handsome face. A cheek splitting smile spreads across my face as soon as his wandering eyes clash against mine with enough emotion to pull a whimper from my throat.
A beyond obvious, cheesy wink from my playboy boxer is all it takes to forget about everything and lift my own arms in the air to join in the excited cheers, happier than I have been in years.
Chapter Twenty-Five
BRADEN
Dad leans back against the wall with a deep scowl, his arms crossed hard enough for the skin to bulge angrily. "You ready?"
I slip the smooth black and gold robe over my shoulders and give a cocky grin to my reflection in one of the wall-length mirrors hung along the locker room wall.
"Always."
Boxing matches are a more common event in Rampage now that we spent the money updating and expanding the building to accommodate a separate fighting ring and more people. The renovations wouldn’t have even been a possibility without my brother loaning us the money, but we’ve more than paid it back over the past year by hosting these matches. They bring in more cash-flow than we expected. Especially once the high-rollers get interested.
Everything went as planned today while I was getting the usual last minute jobs done, but I felt the pressure harder than most days. It was easy to recognize why.
Tonight is special. Not because I get to show up countless fighters with my well-worked-for skills, but because for the first time ever, I have someone out in the crowd that I'm actually trying to impress. I don’t want Sierra’s first experience watching me fight to be a disappointment. My pride couldn’t take it.
Usually, I'm too concentrated on the guy in front of me to care about the pussy I'm going to be getting once I step out of the ring a winner. But this isn't just any ordinary pussy out there tonight. This is Sierra we’re talking about. Just the thought of demeaning her to the word pussy has my throat burning with the threat of throwing up.
"I ran into Clayton earlier. He introduced me to a couple of his friends,” Dad says, accusation flickering in his voice. My brow raises, pushing him to elaborate. "I'm assuming that they're also your friends?"
"Happy you picked up on that, old man." I snort. "Yeah, Sierra's mine."
His eyes widen slightly and he chokes on a laugh. I don’t know why, but the reaction has my face hardening to stone."She's yours?"