20. Valerie
“Ifor one am thoroughly enjoying this little crush you got going on with the security guy. There is so much testosterone in here, I can no longer find my feminism,” Chelsea quips as we walk into the massive space.
“I think mine flew out of me the minute we walked in the door and the buff doorman with tattoos up his neck winked at me,” Simone says, flicking her long blond hair over her shoulders and giving eyes to every man walking past us.
“Is that Leonardo over there?” Chloe’s looking through the crowd, always spotting the celebrities, while I ignore my friends and look straight ahead.
Chelsea is right. I have never been anywhere like this before. It’s a large warehouse room full of men which is loud and crowded, and although I walk with full confidence, I am starting to wonder if this was a bad idea. I got tickets to AJ’s fight. I don’t know how. It was completely sold out. But I called some people and got four, close to the front, with good views of the ring.
“It’s a wonder the paps aren’t here, since the Society News article this week,” Chelsea says, and I bite my tongue. I have no idea what is happening in my life at the moment, but Society News is taking more of an interest in me than usual. Of course they caught me on the back of AJ’s bike after Chloe’s showing. The photos were all over the web this week.
“Well, it’s not like Society News would be somewhere like this. This isn’t the usual place you expect Valeria Van Cleef to be,” Chloe says in jest.
“So, what’s the protocol? I’ve never been to a fight before,” Simone asks as we walk toward our seats, many pairs of eyes looking us up and down.
“I did some research this week. Apparently, there are fifteen rounds, three minutes per round. Unless there is a knockout, then the fight finishes earlier,” I tell them as we reach our seats.
“Oh, I think I see Tennyson Rothschild…” Chloe says, clearly happy we are in good company, and I immediately raise my gaze in the direction she is looking. Tennyson waves at me, so I smile and wave back. And cameras promptly click in my face. Shit.
“You know, now we will be on the front page of Society News tomorrow right,” Chelsea comments, and the short-lived relief I had earlier now dissipates.
“What’s new?” I murmur, frustrated I can’t do anything in this town without the whole of Baltimore society knowing about it.
“What is Father Van Cleef going to say?” Chelsea asks, and I bristle a little at that statement. Of course, he is not going to be happy.
“He doesn’t get a say in what I do in my spare time or who I choose to do it with,” I tell her, feeling confident in my decision. The girls take a seat as I remain standing, glancing around the room.
“Didn’t picture you as a fighting girl.” Tennyson grins at me, walking over to stand next to me.
“First time,” I share. “But I know one of the fighters, and I wanted to support him.” His eyebrows rise.
“You have friends in this scene?” Tennyson fishes for more information, so I decide to be transparent. If we go into business together, I appreciate honesty, and I can’t expect it from him and his brothers if I don’t give it to them.
“AJ and I are getting to know each other.” A small smile reaches my face while the butterflies in my stomach take flight.
“He’s tough. But from what I”ve heard, he is fair.”
“I know. He is also a good man,” I say, nodding, and Tennyson smiles.
“Nice to see you spreading your wings, little Van Cleef.” He sends me a knowing smile and a wink before stepping backward. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” I know he speaks from experience. His family has gone through so much with their late mother.
“Feels great,” I tell him as I feel my shoulders lowering.
“Good to see you ladies,” Tennyson says to my friends, giving them all a sexy smirk before he turns and heads back to his seat.
“Now that is a man…” Simone murmurs, and we laugh, breaking any nervous tension. I blow out a breath.
George and I are moving chess pieces at work, getting things ready for me to challenge my father. We have meetings lined up over the next week with board members. I have no idea exactly what is going to happen when I start to make my moves, but I know it isn’t going to go smoothly. The small feeling of joy that shines inside of me at the excitement of starting my life anew is almost pushing aside the nerves I have of seeing AJ. I know he won’t be happy I am here.
The lights dim and the announcer starts talking over a loud microphone, causing the crowd to settle down. There is a warm-up fight before the main event, and I watch as each fighter is announced. Us girls get comfortable, and so far, the theatrics are somewhat entertaining, but when the bell rings and the two fighters start dancing around each other, my stomach plummets. It is brutal.
“Shit,” Chelsea whisper-yells.
“This is crazy!” Simone gasps, watching wide-eyed.
Chloe and I remain quiet, and my fingernails dig into my palms as I hear the thwack of gloves hitting skin and fear crawls up my spine.
The fight goes nine rounds, and I was on the edge of my seat for each of them and I don’t even know these men. The fighters leave the ring, looking bloody and sweaty, while the announcer talks about the main event. People jump into the ring and start wiping the floor, mopping up the blood and sweat that remains, and new equipment is brought to the ringside. I slowly look around the room again. There is not a spare seat anywhere. Men are standing, talking and shouting, beer is being sloshed, and I take another deep breath. What the hell am I doing here?
“Are you sure you want to watch this?” Chloe asks, her eyes searching mine, Simone the only one of us seemingly enjoying the display of testosterone. I want to see AJ. But I don’t want to see him hurt. I should leave, but I can’t move.
“I’m sure.” I nod as the lights lower and loud music starts. Rago Ragatonio is announced. I don’t know anything about him other than he is AJ’s opponent tonight, and he dances around down the aisle, making his way to the ring. He is big, with bushy dark eyebrows, broad shoulders, and bulky arms. The applause for him is lackluster; he is clearly not the fan favorite. That makes me feel a little better.
He steps through the ropes and into the ring, shuffling around as the lights dim again and the announcer grabs the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen…” The announcer”s booming voice makes my body jolt, and I swallow harshly. “He is the man, he is the machine, he is AJ Steeleeeeee!” His voice carries the E for a long time as loud thumping music comes on, and I think I might faint.
“Holy Mother of God.” I barely hear Simone as the audience is on its feet, grown men screaming. Thunderous applause radiates around the room as the deep base of the music pumps through my feet via the floor.
“Wow,” Chloe says, her mouth dropped open, her eyes even wider.
I can’t yet see what they can, so I turn my head and poke around the shoulders of the men in front of me to get a look, and when I do, my breath catches. He is beautiful. His skin is shiny from oil, tattoos on full display, which are dark and cover most of his torso. He is wearing a pair of shimmery red shorts, his thick thighs looking solid. I thought his opponent was large, but AJ is bigger. Everywhere. His arms, thighs, he is taller, broader, there is just more of him, more than I ever realized. Bouncing on his toes, he ducks under the rope and into the ring, and as the bright lights finally reach his face, I take in his heavy scowl. He looks dangerous. Deadly. Every inch a frightening fighter that he is, and it makes my mouth dry and my belly flutter. I feel unsteady with admiration.
“I can’t believe that is what is underneath all those black security clothes.” Chelsea giggles.
“No wonder you have been lusting after him for weeks,” Simone quips as we all sit down with the rest of the crowd and wait for the formalities to finish and the fight to start.
“I have not,” I refute with absolutely no conviction in my tone. I haven’t told them about last night other than that we went for a ride. I am not exactly sure what we are or if I should even label us.
“The drool coming from your mouth says differently,” Chloe says, grinning.
On instinct, I wipe my chin, and the girls cackle at me. I roll my eyes and look back up at the ring, and my smile disappears as I meet his icy-blue stare. He has spotted me, and as expected, he does not look happy.
I have no idea where I get the courage, but I don’t move my gaze, and instead, I place my fingers to my mouth and blow him a kiss. His jaw clenches, and he turns, saying something to his team, who all look in our direction.
“Ooohhhh, he is not happy…” Simone singsongs, and now all four of us watch as AJ, Brady, and his other friend, Cody, all stare at us, then turn away.
They whisper something to their security guys behind them, and while AJ is getting his mouthguard pushed in and a final drink of water sprayed into his mouth, two large security guys walk toward where we sit and stand next to us, like our own personal bodyguards.
“Oh shit, he just sent us security,” Simone says, looking them up and down.
“Shit, do we need security?” Chloe asks.
“I have no idea…” I say quietly, feeling out of my depth as a few men around us now look our way. I glance around and spot Tennyson’s eyebrows quirking up at me. I can only shrug. My heart is beating faster as I realize that AJ is protecting me, and I feel bad for a second because I know he didn’t want me coming here.
The ring of the bell pulls me from my thoughts, and I sit forward on the edge of my seat. My heart feels like it is going to leap out of my chest as the two men dance around each other. Then the punches start, and I feel physically ill. My arms immediately circle my waist as I lean forward and watch every step AJ takes, trying not to vomit.
I am captivated as AJ takes a few punches and gives a few, and before I realize it, we are two rounds in.
“This is intense…” I say to the girls, my eyes still on AJ where he sits in the corner of the ring, Brady yelling at him, and Cody squirting water into his mouth.
“This is hot,” Simone comments, still looking around at all the men in the crowd.
“I feel like I am going to throw up,” I tell them, wishing this was all over already.
“Not yet, the next round is about to start,” Chloe says, and my eyes immediately look back at the ring. The familiar bell signifies the start of the third round.
My eyes don’t leave AJ, and when a hard punch hits him right in the side, my body is up off the seat in a flash, as is everyone around him.
“No!” I yell as my friends grip my arms on either side. His blues find mine again. “Hit him!” I yell, scared that if he doesn’t, the other guy will get another one in. Fear creeps up my throat, and I watch with bated breath, and then I see it in his eyes. Fire.
He jumps around again, shaking his head and getting busy. He lands punch after punch, and the entire place is on their feet. There is yelling and screaming as AJ pummels his opponent, landing every punch as Rago wobbles. I can’t move, holding my breath, looking at every move as the crowd around us yells louder. We all watch as Rago’s barely able to stand from AJ’s punches, and then it”s like the whole place holds their breath as AJ pulls his arm back and slams it into Rago’s chin. His eyes roll back as his back hits the floor, and he doesn’t move. He is out cold.
I’m jumping up and down, cheering my head off, a mix of relief taking over at him winning and not getting hurt and a feeling of pride that he succeeded at his sport. My smile is wide as I clap and us girls do high fives, laughing at each other, and as I look around, I see that absolute pandemonium has broken out. The crowd erupts, the men around us stand and shout, some jumping, whistling, fist-bumping, and us four women are immediately engulfed with what can only be described as pure masculine energy that we have no way of battling.
The two burley men AJ sent over round us up and move us immediately, and I start to get nervous. We are sandwiched between them both, and as we start walking, it’s almost as if we move as one. I turn to look for AJ, but I can’t see the ring anymore as people push us, clamoring to get closer. I can’t even see where we are going as the people around us push from all directions, the music deafening. But the four of us huddle together and walk holding hands with our heads down, rushing along an aisle and past another wall of security into the bowels of the warehouse. They are not escorting us outside, which means they are taking me to meet AJ. My body simmers in desire to see him, but my hands shake a little at being so out of my comfort zone. I am nervous because I don’t know what to expect.
“Through here.” one of the men says gruffly as he pushes us inside a huge room. Those are the first and the last words they say as they close the door behind them and leave the four of us girls inside. We look around and take in the room, the yelling from outside now muffled.
“That was intense,” Chloe says, looking at each of us.
“That blond security guy can grab me anytime he likes,” Simone murmurs as she looks around the room.
“What room is this?” Chelsea asks.
“I think it is AJ’s room,” I say, trying to swallow the thick feeling that is forming in my throat as I, too, look around. There is a bathroom to the side, but in this main room, there is a massage bed set up. I see skipping ropes, towels, and a change area as well as a small kitchenette, the counters covered in energy drinks, water, and ice. We stand in a small lounge with a fridge beside us and what looks to be a large medical bag filled with all sorts of things.
We all jolt as the door opens. The roar of the crowd gets louder as men pile in, and the four of us walk backward, out of the way. Then I see AJ. His eyes are on me the moment he steps inside. His face is murderous as Brady takes his gloves from his hands.
“Leave! Now!” he barks out to the room, and everyone looks at him before they look at me, then start to walk back out the door. As the men all move around him and out the door, he glances at my friends. “Brady, take the girls into the main lounge.” I nod to them that I am okay, and they follow Brady out the door.
It closes behind them, and the room is silent again. I look at this large, sweaty, rugged man in front of me, in nothing but his shiny red shorts and white tape on his hands, and I hold my breath, tamping down the butterflies that fly around my body every time I am in the same room as him. The very butterflies that have been absent from my body with every other man I have ever met. The ones that are multiplying every second he looks at me so intensely.