Chapter 5
five
Benny
A NEW PURPOSE.
When I bought this place, I figured it would be years before I had to take over running it. It was always my retirement plan. If I was lucky, I’d make it to my late thirties before I had to stop fighting and switch over to running Forrester Fitness.
I was a few weeks off thirty when it happened—a torn rotator cuff, clean enough that surgery mended it, but messy enough that it ended everything.
Then it was months of rehab, endless physiotherapy sessions, and a stubborn refusal to “take it easy,” because I didn’t know how to do that.
I’d gotten most of the strength back now, most of the mobility.
But the risk was too high. Returning to the UFC was off the table.
My physiotherapist had cleared me for most exercises, though, and I was ready—desperate, honestly—to get back to being productive. To feel like I had a purpose beyond sitting at home and brooding over things I couldn’t change.
I’d stopped visiting Ma as much because she fussed over me as if I’d torn both arms clean off, but that just meant she came over to my place to fuss over me there instead. It was good to get back to work.
“Mornin’,” I called to Georgio as I walked across the mats.
He’d just finished up his stretches, rolling his shoulders as he packed away the yoga mat. “Morning, boss.”
I liked Georgio. He was a former fighter as well and had made it to his forties before he retired.
He was one of the greats, Georgio “The Gladiator” Mancini.
I’d grown up watching his fights with my dad, and I’d had an embarrassing fanboy moment when he’d reached out after I opened the gym and asked if I needed any help running it.
Turned out he ran the place better than I had the capacity to, and I’d gladly handed the reins to him while I focused on my career.
Now that it was over, I didn’t want to push Georgio out. I was sure there was enough work for us both to stay busy.
“Need help with anythin’?”
He chuckled. “Eager to get back to it, huh? I get it. Well, I got the morning classes sorted, ordered the new gear, updated the roster. Hmm… oh, the HVAC guy is coming around ten to deal with the busted unit if you wanted to handle that?”
Right. He definitely seemed to have things under control, then.
“Cool. Good. Um, good work. I’ll deal with the HVAC guy…
at ten.” I glanced at the clock behind him.
I was sure there was something I could find to do for the next three and a half hours.
Maybe Riley needed help with admin. “I’ll leave ya to it, then. ”
I headed toward the front desk. Riley’s tiny body was almost impossible to spot behind the giant monitor, but as though he had supernatural hearing, he popped his head up when I got close.
“Morning, boss man.” He smiled warmly.
“Mornin’, Ri. Need help with anythin’?”
He tilted his head to the side quizzically, as if I’d spoken in a foreign language. “Uh… no? Everything’s sorted for today.”
“There’s not like… emails or… invoices or somethin’ you need me to handle?”
His eyes softened as he smiled. “Emails are handled, boss. Invoices paid. I’ve got the newsletter scheduled, and the socials queued for the day too.”
Why was everyone so damned competent around here?
“Umm…” His bright green eyes looked around the desk, searching for some task he could assign me out of pity before he pulled a Post-it note off the table. “Vending machine isn’t working. I was going to call the repair guy next, but… you can do it if you like?”
“Thanks,” I sighed, taking the paper and noticing his bright pink nails.
I loved how comfortable Riley was with things like makeup and nail polish.
I wanted this place to be as openly accepting and inviting to my community as possible.
There were Pride flags on the wall behind where Riley sat, and I’d never kept my pansexuality a secret from the public.
“One of the men’s toilets is clogged too,” he added.
Wonderful.
“Uh… where do we keep the cleanin’ supplies?”
Riley stared at me for a moment before pointing at a door behind me clearly labeled “STAFF ONLY – Cleaning & Maintenance.”
“I knew that.”
He smiled, rolling his eyes and sinking back down in his chair and out of view.
Armed with a bucket of cleaning supplies and a plunger, I made my way to the men’s room. No job too small, as my ma always said.
“Why are you here?” asked the devil herself, taking me by surprise the moment I pushed the bathroom door open.
“I work here, Ma. The real question is what are you doin’ here?”
“The toilet’s clogged,” my mother answered, as if that explained everything. “You should be home restin’.”
“Docs cleared me to come back to work, as I’ve already told ya. Now why are you here… and in the men’s room?”
She wiped the back of her arm over her forehead to push back stray strands of dark brown hair. “I always check in on your gym. That lovely boy at the front desk told me the toilet needed fixin’, so here I am, fixin’ it.”
Thanks for the heads up, Ri.
“Woah!” someone exclaimed as the door opened behind me.
“Oh, don’t be precious, you haven’t got anythin’ I haven’t seen before.”
“You can’t be in here, Ma,” I groaned, grabbing her gently by the arm to usher her out.
“Watch your shoulder, Benny!” she chastised as she let me pull her along with me.
The door opened again, another guy entering as we were about to leave. “Hey, Ginny,” he greeted casually.
“Hi, Lucas!” she responded, turning to no doubt have some form of conversation with the guy.
“No. Out!”
“So bossy! Your toilet is fixed, by the way. You’re welcome.”
“You don’t need to be droppin’ by here fixin’ toilets, or for any other reason. I got it under control.” Well, Georgio and Riley had everything under control.
“Alright, alright, I gotta go take the kids to school anyway. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“Don’t come by tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bear Bear.” Ma went up to the tops of her toes to plant a firm kiss on my cheek. “I’ll put these away on my way out. Have fun at work, dear, and if you injure that shoulder doin’ somethin’ ya shouldn’t, I’ll know. I got eyes everywhere, Benjamin.”
“Yeah, yeah, get outta here.”
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you too.” I sighed, letting her take the bucket from my hand as she turned away to leave. That woman had more problems staying idle than I did.
With the toilet fixed, that left me with a grand total of one phone call to make for the day and pointing the HVAC guy toward the air-conditioning unit at ten.
I was surrounded by equipment, the sound of weights clinking and gloves hitting pads or punching bags. It should have felt like home, but instead it was like I was a guest in my own damn gym.
They didn’t need me here.
“I swear my mother has more purpose in that place than I do,” I vented as Rikky handed me another beer.
“How is Ginny? I miss her.”
“She misses you too. Keeps askin’ when you’re comin’ for dinner next.”
Rikky and I had been friends since I moved here in middle school, after we’d lost my dad and my family had needed a fresh start.
Ma had needed to work more to cover the expenses on her own, and my sister Rachel was always busy hanging out with her new high school friends, so I’d started helping at the YMCA after school with their sport programs. It gave me something to do and a way to meet new people.
Rikky had been new to Harborview too. He didn’t have any friends, except for his brother, and he’d lingered around the center watching us play basketball until I dragged him in to play with us.
He was a few years younger than me, but it had never felt that way. I’d brought him home for dinner the way I often did with the kids I met, and my ma cooked for him like she did for anyone I brought home.
While others came and went, Rikky stayed.
“I miss her cooking. I will try to visit soon.”
“You’re missin’ the point.”
“You are annoyed your gym is doing well.”
“No, I’m annoyed I don’t have anythin’ to do. I feel like… I’m just in the way or somethin’.”
“These things take time, no? Your life is not what you expected right now. That’s okay. Fighting was your passion. You just need to find a new one.”
Rikky, always the voice of reason. Sometimes I just liked to bitch about things, but he always had a solution ready.
“Why not try dating again?”
“You sure you haven’t been around my mother?” I scoffed. Lately, all she talked about was my injury. It had given me a break from the constant, “When are you going to settle down with a nice boy or girl and give me more grandbabies?” conversation.
“Why not? It has been, what? Two years since Oliver? And nothing since then.”
“Dating is… complicated.”
“Well, now you have the time to figure it out.”
It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about it, but my career had only been half the obstacle when it came to finding someone.
“I don’t know. You know what I’m like, what I’m… into. People take one look at me and assume I’m somethin’ else. It’s tirin’. I don’t think I can deal with anyone’s expectations right now.”
We fell into an easy silence, sipping our beers in my kitchen.
I didn’t see a solution. Beyond my reputation as a fighter, both guys and girls would take one look at my height and build and just make assumptions about what I was into.
What I was like in bed. They wanted me to take control, to be dominant, but it just wasn’t my thing.
I’d tried with Oliver, and with my girlfriend Isabella before him.
I’d tried to be what they wanted me to be, and it just felt so draining.
I had an image to uphold in the cage, and I’d built my career on being intimidating.
But it was a show, an act. I didn’t want to act in a relationship. I just wanted to be myself.
“What if you could meet someone without seeing them? Anonymously?”
“Like not puttin’ my picture on datin’ apps?”
“No. Something more… intentional. I know this guy, goes by Shady. He runs a club for high-profile people. It’s secretive, but he matches people based on specific interests. Maybe it could work for you?”
“What, like a kink club?”
“Something like that.”
Wasn’t the first time something like that had crossed my mind, but looking into it previously had just been so intimidating.
Plus, I had my reputation to worry about.
I was recognizable. For some reason, the public was interested in what I did with my life and time.
I wasn’t sure how much that would change now I was retired, but I still got caught by reporters occasionally.
“What do you mean it’s for high-profile people? ”
“Celebrities. Rich people. High-profile.”
Interesting.
“Okay… but… let’s say I try it, and I can match with someone based on interests and not appearance… won’t they be… disappointed when they’re expectin’ someone submissive and they see me?”
“Hey.” Rikky put his beer down on the marble countertop, his light brown eyes boring into mine.
“Listen to me, Benny. There is nothing wrong with looking the way you do and being submissive. Maybe some people want a small body to throw around, but there are many people out there. You only need one good one.”
He was right. I wasn’t the type for casual hookups. If I was going to try dating again, and I managed to meet someone who would accept me how I was, then I was ready to give them all of me. “How do I sign up?”
Rikky gave me a wolfish grin. “I will talk to Shady and get you in.”