Chapter 18 #2
His bare broad chest and muscles in places I didn’t think they could be, have my attention.
Of course, he has a six-pack. I’m almost annoyed that he looks like a perfectly chiseled Greek god standing up there in only shorts.
He continues to wrap his knuckles with white athletic tape, his green eyes staring holes into my soul.
I should have known when Wesley ran off that something was up.
He was going to check on his friends. He never offered the names of the fighters, but I never asked. I didn’t think it was important.
My stomach flips as I think about him hitting someone tonight.
And worse yet, being hit in return. I don’t want Julien to get hurt, even if he is an asshole to me.
He’s important to Wesley, and Wesley is quickly becoming important to me.
I peek behind Julien and Zander is in the ring's corner, eyes also trained on me.
Shit.
Julien shakes his head the moment Wesley finds his way back to me and circles his arms around my waist, pulling me against him, and tilting my chin up for a kiss.
The one he gives me isn’t short or sweet.
It’s demanding, and full of dark promises, and it makes my pulse quicken at the prospect of more.
Even over the crowd of people, I swear I can hear Julien’s low growl of displeasure.
I peek at him without breaking the kiss until Wesley finally pulls away himself.
Julien’s jaw tightens and his chest rises and falls rapidly as he secures the gloves to his hands.
So angry. And so hot. I’m getting used to his moody side, even if I don’t agree with his actions.
I wonder what will happen when I finally see him smile.
Gasp! Does Julien even possess the ability?
Or if he tries, will he drop dead of a heart attack because it finally started to beat again?
Zander doesn’t look any happier as he grinds his teeth and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes focus out on the crowd away from me as his mouth tugs down into a frown.
He says something to Julien, and he focuses on whatever Zander is looking at.
I pull away from Wesley and scan the crowd until I find what has his rapt attention.
Ava and Nick. She’s not even aware he’s looking at her as she smiles up at Nick and then laughs at something he says, her curls bouncing with the motion.
Double shit.
Wesley turns his attention now as well, and I hear him growl in frustration. “What did you do, Hellcat?” He asks through clenched teeth.
“Nothing. This isn’t my doing.” Okay, so that may not be entirely the truth, but how much trouble can she really get in?
“Why didn’t you tell me Julien was fighting tonight and that Zander would also be here?
” I scold, smacking Wesley playfully in the chest. He takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together, pulling us down into our seats.
I didn’t need to see them. It’s hard enough making it through classes with them throughout the week, but I don’t need my weekends filled with their hateful glares and scowls.
“Because I wanted you here with me, and Julien doesn’t control everything.”
The bell rings, and the referee steps into the ring to start his announcements. Julien walks to the opposite corner and lowers his head, listening to Zander. This isn’t good. I bite my lower lip and play with the hem of my sweater, a wave of nervous energy coursing through me.
“Wwwwwelcome to fight night!” The announcer booms into the mic, making the crowd cheer and go wild.
“In this corner,” he points to a large guy with dark hair and a smattering of hair over his large muscled chest and abs, “we have Axel!” The announcer's voice booms as he drags out Axel’s name.
Axel gets a decent amount of excitement and whoops, but a fair amount of boos as well.
It appears it may not be tonight's favorite, but from the looks of it, there have been a decent number of bets on him. The announcer turns and extends his arm in the opposite corner. “And in this corner,” he pauses, allowing time for the cheers to ramp up, “Julien!” The crowd goes crazy! I look all around the stands and I can’t help but be excited for him with all the people making a racket, supporting him.
Clearly, he’s a fan favorite, and I feel a small sense of pride because I know him.
He hates me, and the feeling is mutual, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him beaten to a pulp. Even if this was his choice to fight.
“What happens if he loses?” I ask Wesley over the noise of the crowd.
“A lot of pissed off people.”
That’s what I’m afraid of . “Wesley, he can’t lose this fight. He’s already seen me and is not happy. It’s going to mess with his head. Why’d you bring me here?” My voice has taken on a higher pitch. Anxiety settling low in my belly, worried about the next ten minutes.
He sighs, “because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, you light a fire under his ass. I know damn well he won’t lose in front of you. And Axel is tough. Sometimes, Julien acts cocky?—”
“Sometimes?” I cut him off and raise my brow in question..
He smiles and doesn’t miss a beat. “And thinks he's the best, but in this fight, the odds are against him. I gave him a reason to win.” He relaxes back into his seat and tosses his arm over my shoulder, stroking my bare shoulder with his thumb. Each stroke feels like a tiny fire licking across my skin. The first round bell rings and the fighters take their stance. I’ve seen bits of boxing matches on videos before, but it’s nothing like this.
Axel, Julien’s opponent, comes out with a vengeance.
He charges toward Julien, fists swinging, and Julien dodges every one of them with ease.
It’s almost like a dance the two men are doing.
Punch. Dodge. Kick. Jump back. The crowd shifts restlessly, tension crackling as they hurl scattered insults at the men.
Julien glimpses at me, and that’s enough of an opening that Axel clips the side of his head.
The crowd groans as I let out a gasp of surprise and cover my mouth.
Wesley places a kiss on my shoulder, but I can’t relax.
Julien shakes the punch off and focuses on Axel again, clearly pissed at himself for letting him land one on him.
Around and around they circle until the bell dings and the first round is over.
Each man goes to their own corner, and I watch Julien and Zander closely. Both men seem off. And if I’m betting, I’d say Wesley is supposed to be over there in his corner, offering advice and being a supportive friend.
“You’re usually over there, aren’t you?” I ask, not taking my eyes off them, but leaning closer to Wesley to be heard over the boisterous crowd.
“Yeah, usually.” He sounds somber with a shrug.
I knock my shoulder into his, and he turns, giving me his full attention. “Go.”
His brows furrow, and he cocks his head.
I nod and he smiles at me before planting a quick kiss to my lips and jogs to the other side of the ring to join his friends.
Zander slaps him on the back and Julien gives a look over his shoulder at me, but Wesley drags his attention back to him, saying a few more words.
If only I was good at reading lips. Maybe that’s a skill they teach here at Pointebreak.
The bell rings, signaling round two, and the fighters take their stance.
Julien keeps his gloves by his face and circles Axel, looking for an in.
Axel charges again, but Julien is quicker and knocks him off his feet.
He scurries on top, placing his weight on Axel’s hips, and he lets loose.
Pure rage coats his features as he lands punch after punch on him.
Axel has his hands up by his face, trying to protect himself, but Julien still plows into him.
I swear I hear a crunch and I wince as Axel goes lax.
I gasp, my eyes widening at the scene in front of me.
Is he dead? The referee blows his whistle and holds Julien’s arm high in the air.
Beads of sweat cling to his body and his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Winner!” the announcer yells. I jump from my seat and scream and cheer with excitement.
Axel’s team rushes over to him and helps him stand, his eyes already beginning to swell shut, and his face is coated in blood.
That looks painful. I wince and seek the three Kings out again.
Julian still has a scowl on his face, but he accepts a half hug and a back slap from Wesley and Zander.
I turn in a slow circle to watch the crowd as I clap, looking at the audience, and the smile drops from my face.
What the hell is he doing here?
One blink, and he’s gone. I track the person I think I saw as I push my way past those who are collecting their winnings and grabbing drinks at the makeshift bar, hoping to catch up to him.
When I follow where he may have turned to, it’s a dead end.
It’s not like he disappeared into thin air, so where the hell did he go?
Spinning around, I looked for another juncture or hallway I missed, but there’s nothing.
I drag my phone out of my small bag and open a new text thread.
Me:
What are you doing at Contend?
I jiggle the handle of a random door I find, but it doesn’t give, not that I expected it to.
Walking around with my face in my phone, I wait for a reply when Wesley calls out for me.
I glance up at the sound of my name and the instant relief on his face when he sees me has my haunches going up.
He’s scared. Why? I raise my brows in question and wiggle my fingers in greeting.
He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head and I melt into him.
I’m getting too used to his comforting touches; and the way he smells seems to have a calming effect on me as well.
His warmth and touch soothe me in ways I didn’t think were possible.
“Jesus, Riles, you said you would stay put.” His heart pounds against his chest as he hugs me tighter to him.
I settle into his embrace and kiss his pecs as he takes a deep breath, his exhale moving my hair.
“Sorry. I thought I saw someone I knew.” He holds me out in front of him and looks me over as if checking for injuries. “I’m fine, Wes.” I shrug him off.
He spins us, pressing my back against the wall. He places his finger under my chin and drops his face inches from mine. My heart thumps wildly as I wait on bated breath for him to close the distance. Time moves agonizingly slowly and when he doesn’t move, I whimper.
“Kiss me, Wes.” He drops his lips to mine and I moan into him.
His kiss is hard and demanding and I match him, exploring his mouth with my tongue.
I run my fingers through his short hair and tug him closer to me.
He wraps his hand around my waist and we are groin to groin, his hard-on prominent.
I shift, needing more friction, and he groans, breaking the kiss.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”