Chapter 30 – Clay
Three weeks later…
The past three weeks leading up to the tournament had been pure torture, and now that it’s Thursday, just two days away from the start, Dallas had finally given me a rare morning off from training.
But that didn’t mean he’d let me rest completely.
Of course, we still had to meet up at his farm so he could yell at me.
I woke early, at my usual time, kissing Maggie’s peaceful, sleeping face as she curled around her pillow tightly, still wrapped up in my bed.
Her pillow. At least, that's what it'd become since she's spent practically every night in bed with me this summer.
As much as I wanted to stay, wake her up with my face between her thighs, I headed out, driving over to Dallas’s place to talk.
Fighting in MMA isn’t just about physical strength; it’s about mindset—mental toughness, confidence, resilience, and emotional control.
I’ve been training for years, fighting for almost as long, but it’s only in the last eight months that I’ve really locked in.
I’ve dialed in on my nutrition, training, and exercise routines and cut out all the bull shit in my life.
Now, everything is focused on the fight ahead.
“How are you feeling, Clay?” Dallas asks.
This morning, he's wearing just sweatpants and a white tank top, standing barefoot in the middle of his back yard while clutching a mug of coffee that says, Dove & the Valor, printed on the side. For a former marine and California boy, he’s embraced the country aesthetic these past fifteen years since moving to Texas.
“Good, strong, focused and ready.”
He nods, pleased with my response, just as Dove steps out of the house and into the yard. It’s only five in the morning, but the late July heat is already creeping in, thick and sweltering, with bugs buzzing around blissfully amongst the thick humidity.
“Dove, good to see you,” I greet her.
She walks over, still in her pajamas, wearing that signature smile of hers.
Always one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on, I’ve never missed a chance to give Dallas hell about how the most famous—and frankly, one of the prettiest—women in town ended up with his gruff and broody self.
But truth be told, they make a solid pair.
Dove’s rock star energy—sweet, wild, and full of life—balances perfectly with Dallas’s calm, restless, protective nature. He slips an arm around her waist and plants a kiss on her forehead, the two of them fitting together in that effortless way they always have.
“Will Maggie be at the tournament opener Saturday night?” she asks.
I nod. “The hospital gave her the whole weekend off.”
Dove smiles. “Well, I’m happy for you two. You’re two of the kindest people I know in town. Feel like in a way I got to watch you both grow up and I'm going to enjoy watching you grow together now.”
Dallas huffs as he shakes his head. “Maybe you’d have a real shot at something permanent if you told her how you feel. Doesn’t she leave for Houston in a week?”
I stretch my arms overhead, loosening up even though I know we’re not sparring this morning. Touching my toes, I shift side to side, feeling the familiar aches in my hips and back from another night of holding Maggie while I slept.
Worth it.
Always, worth it.
“She does. But I’m not saying anything yet. She’s graduating in a few months, and I want her to choose where she wants to work first without my influence.”
Dallas shakes his head, but before he can say anything, Dove playfully slaps his chest.
“I agree with Dallas that you should tell her but giving me the space to follow my dreams and make my own decisions was the best thing he ever did for me when we were younger. I get why you’re doing it, Clay, but make sure she knows you care. I’d hate for her to leave thinking you don’t.”
“She knows.”
“She knows in the context of her thinking you’re faking it,” Dallas shoots back.
“No, she knows I really care for her. We’ve spent pretty much every single night together this summer. We didn’t have to do that. That wasn’t a part of the agreement. She knows how I feel.”
“You did that because you’re a horny bastard who was celibate for way too damn long.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve been spending too much time with Wylie. You sound like him.”
He throws his head back, barking out a laugh.
“You don’t want to have any regrets,” Dove says gently before patting my chest and turning to walk back inside of her house.
I know she’s right, but how do I go about that without influencing Maggie’s decisions and feeling like I’m manipulating her life for my benefit?
Dallas gives me that classic Marine scowl, the one he reserves for just when he thinks I’m being an idiot.
“What?” I ask, sighing.
“You’ve always been a natural in the ring.
A natural fighter. But this was never going to be more than a hobby for you, at least not with where your head was at.
Fighting’s as much mental as it is physical, and I think you’ve finally locked that piece in.
Maggie’s one hundred percent the reason for that.
Before her, your mental game was shit, and I’d hate to see you lose that edge by letting her go. ”
He’s right. The mental part came last for me, and a huge reason for that was Maggie.
For a long time, I thought it was enough that only Jovie knew about this side of my life—though she never asked many questions, more worried for me than anything else.
But she’d check in after every fight just to make sure I was still breathing.
That was nice, but I hadn’t realized how much I needed someone who didn’t just care, but who truly believed in me, no questions asked. Ten toes down.
Maggie gave me that.
And I’d be stupid to lose it.
Maggie didn’t have to show up to each fight, stand in the front row, and cheer me on more loudly than anyone else. This was supposed to be a fake relationship. I was using her as a cover so that no one would question why I was always busy.
But she did it anyways.
I told myself I didn’t need anyone’s support. I wasn’t fighting for anyone else. I was fighting for me. I was fighting to prove something to myself. But when Maggie started coming to every fight, something changed. I wasn’t just fighting for me anymore—I was fighting for her, too.
For us.
The idea that maybe we could be something more and that I had her support, made me push harder, focus better.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I look down, seeing Chief Hollister’s name flash across the screen.
“Nice talk, boss,” I mock salute Dallas who just rolls his eyes at me. I may already have two older brothers, but Dallas has become like a third over the past few years. “We’re good for Saturday? The chief is calling me so I should probably answer this.”
Dallas waves me off, “We’re good. Get some rest tonight. Maybe take the next two days off from humping your fake girlfriend.”
I laugh to myself, thinking about it as I head back to my truck.
Mornings with her are my favorite—her skin still warm from sleep, eyes still soft, and the way she smells like me from sleeping in my bed all night.
I decide that I'm making her breakfast as soon as I get home so that I can watch her eat while I eat her again.
I slide into my truck and swipe to answer the phone. “Hey, chief, what’s up?”
“Hey, Clay. I hate to catch you off guard, but I think you need to come to the hospital.”
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” I ask, confused, as I shift my truck into reverse casually and start backing out of Golden Farm’s driveway.
A bad accident, maybe? Something that requires more than just his support as chief and second in command. My mind races for answers, but nothing prepares me for what comes next.
“Maggie’s been admitted. She’s not doing well.”
Everything stops.
My stomach lurches, my hand trembles as I glance down at the phone, praying I didn’t hear that right.
“I’m on my way.”