Air puffedfrom my lips in the morning cold as I sprinted around town, keeping my pace quick to burn off the energy constantly thrumming through me.
I would never get used to living an idle life, and the longer I was in Montana, the greater my desire to return to the ring grew. I missed the training, the thrill of an upcoming fight, and the screams as I stepped onto the canvas. I could still feel the silk on my shoulders as sweat built underneath it before a fight, and I fucking missed it.
I slowed as my phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting the music blaring in my ears. Stopping on the sidewalk, I stretched as I answered the call.
“Yeah?”
“Sammy, how ya doin’?”
A smile lit my lips as my manager’s voice reminded me of better times. “Not too bad. How ‘bout you?”
“Could be better. Haven’t found another one who could go the distance like you.”
An ache built in my chest, and I absentmindedly rubbed at it. “Nobody could replace me,” I jested.
“Which is exactly why I’m calling.” Deke sighed heavily. “Look, I know you said you were done, and I get it. But I think you threw in the towel too soon.”
“You heard the doc. That tear was bad.”
“And you’ve recovered. I was with you through PT, remember? He said you could still go back.”
Pressing my foot against the wall, I stretched my calf muscles. “He also said performance at the same level was unlikely.”
“Since when do you play odds? Come on, Sammy! You’re the best. You can’t tell me you’re really ready to throw in the towel.”
No, I wasn’t ready. I longed to get back in the ring and fight like I used to. But I’d gotten lazy out here. Yes, I was still working out, running and keeping up with my workouts, but I hadn’t put on a pair of gloves since my injury.
Injury was a nice way of putting it.
That night had ended my career, and it was all because of a dirty fight with Joe Rubin. The man gave me a cheap shot to the nuts, then slammed me to the canvas, torquing my arm in the process, tearing my rotator cuff. The fight was over before I got my shot at redemption.
“I won’t step into the ring and be anything less than what I was,” I finally answered.
“So, don’t. I hear you’ve got a lot of time on your hands up there. Look, I took the liberty of checking out a few buildings that would be perfect for your training. I can get everything you need in a day.”
“Deke—”
“Don’t say no. Not yet. Just listen to me. Give it six months. Get back in shape, and if you’re not feelin’ it, I won’t say another word. But if you do make a comeback, I promise you another shot at Rubin.”
The chance to take out Rubin was tempting. Maybe a little too tempting. But six months…Hell, I could get back in shape and see if it was even a possibility.
“Just think about it, Sammy. The chance to take out Rubin…”
Excitement filled my veins for the first time in a long time. The prospect of getting back in the ring suddenly made everything seem possible.
But just as I was about to answer, I looked up through the window and saw Cassidy standing precariously on a ladder with a drill in her hands, and my heart skipped a beat for an entirely different reason.
“Sammy—”
“Yeah, give me the day to think about it.”
I hung up and stormed over to the bookshop door, tearing it open, startling the woman on the ladder.
“Geezus!” she screeched as she spun, losing her footing. I rushed forward, grabbing her hips just as she was about to fall off the ladder. The drill came precariously close to my head, but she held it back, twisting it away from my face.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, grasping her curvaceous hips and lifting her off the ladder, setting her on her feet.
“Excuse me?”