Claire
I didn’t think I was nervous. I told myself I wasn’t. But as the lights dimmed and the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, my stomach twisted into something tight and unfamiliar. I didn’t understand the logic of fighting or the appeal of stepping into a cage with another person and agreeing to hurt each other for sport. Yet when Asher walked out under those lights, everything in me locked in. He looked different. Bigger somehow. Controlled and focused in a way that was unnerving. The crowd started chanting his name, and my chest vibrated with the sound of it.
“See?” Soleil shouted over the noise. “He thrives on this.”
I barely heard her. The cage door shut. The bell rang. And suddenly I understood that it wasn’t about violence. It was about precision. The first exchange made me flinch. The sound of glove against skin echoed through the arena, and I winced when Asher took a hit to the ribs.
“Crap, that’s bad,” I breathed.
Jonah laughed beside me. “You’re not built for this, Segal.”
“I don’t like fighting,” I muttered.
But I didn’t look away either. When Asher landed a clean jab-cross-leg-kick combination, the crowd exploded and I found myself yelling without realizing it.
“Yes!
Soleil turned slowly, eyebrows raised. “Look at you.”
“I want him to win.” I shrugged.
“Obviously,” Elise teased.
The second round was worse. The fighting was faster and closer. Sweat flew under the lights. When Asher got caught with a hook that snapped his head slightly to the side, my heart jumped into my throat.
“He’s fine,” Jonah said casually. “He’s fought worse.”
“How do you know?”
“This isn’t our first time watching him,” Soleil replied. “We’ve been coming for years.”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to make it feel personal. “He’s different after fights.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Adrenaline high. Wired. Intense.”
Jonah smirked. “He usually doesn’t head back with us.”
I frowned. “Why not?” I got the feeling that there was meaning behind his smirk.
Soleil gave me a look that made my stomach dip. “Because he’s not exactly in the mood to go home and sleep, if you know what I mean,” she waggled her brows.
“Just tell her. She isn’t a baby. He likes to get laid,” Jonah deadpanned.
“Oh.”
“Jonah,” Soleil elbowed him. “She isn’t that type of girl.”
Her comment made me blush even if I tried to hide it. They must have seen me as a prude, which I kind of was. Having a crush on a man like Asher was completely out of my element.
“He gets worked up,” Elise added bluntly. “Finds a groupie. Burns it off.”
The air felt thinner. For some irrational, possessive reason, I didn’t want to examine it, because it bothered me. I imagined him all sweaty and pumped full of adrenaline, breathing hard after a win. The intensity in his eyes. The way his jaw clenched when he focused. The idea of him turning that energy toward someone else made my skin feel too tight. Heat curled low in my stomach before I could stop it. I blinked, snapping back to the present as the crowd roared.
The bell rang. Asher had his opponent backed against the cage, driving forward with controlled aggression. A takedown. A scramble. Then a tap. The referee stepped in, and the arena erupted in cheers and applause.
“He won!” Elise shouted. “Holy shit.”