Chapter 6 #2
I turned a little, not away from Keaton, just enough to keep my focus on the call. “You know where I train?”
“I know you fight out of Titan Elite.”
“Then you know Titan has a good reputation.”
“It does,” Grant answered. “Devon’s built something solid. I’m not calling to take shots at him or his gym. Titan has structure, and structure matters. You don’t look undisciplined. You look trained. But I don’t think Titan is where you should stay if you want to make the jump you’re capable of.”
Whatever I’d expected him to say, it wasn’t that, but I forced myself to ask the next question. “Where do you think I should be?”
“Tampa,” Grant replied.
I turned away from the river, pacing across the grass before stopping again. “Florida?”
Keaton’s gaze snapped to mine. Florida wasn’t just a simple gym recommendation. It was an entirely different life.
“Yeah,” Grant continued. “There’s a gym in Tampa called Atlantic Combat.
I’ve placed fighters there before and know the coaches.
It has a better wrestling room, better southpaw work, more fighters around your weight, and a staff that knows how to build pressure fighters without turning them reckless. ”
Florida.
“That’s across the country.” I rubbed the back of my neck and glanced toward Keaton. He hadn’t said a word, but I could see him trying not to react.
“It is.”
“I’m in California.”
“I know.”
“And you think that’s the move?”
“I wouldn’t bring it up this early if I didn’t.”
Grant kept talking before I could think of another question. “Look, Rowan, I’m not saying to pack a bag tonight. I’m not asking you to uproot your life because some guy called you after one fight. That would be stupid.”
“At least we agree on that.”
He chuckled. “Good. I’d rather represent someone with a little resistance than someone who believes every nice thing I say. But if we work together, I’m going to be honest with you. Fighters stall when they stay comfortable.”
I almost told him that nothing about my life felt comfortable anymore. Instead, I kept my mouth shut.
“Titan may have been the right place to get you here,” Grant went on. “That doesn’t mean it’s the right place to take you further.”
I closed my eyes for a second. “How soon are you talking?”
“If you’re interested, I’d like you to visit them first. Meet the coaches, train with the team, and see how it feels. If it fits, do it sooner rather than later. Within the month would be ideal.”
“Within the month,” I repeated.
Keaton looked toward the water, and I could only imagine what was running through his head. When I’d told him I didn’t want to go back to Titan, I hadn’t imagined my new gym might be on the other side of the country.
“Again, not a demand,” Grant added. “But timing matters. You’ve got momentum from this win. Momentum doesn’t last forever.”
“No, I get it.”
“I’m also not asking for an answer today. I’ll send you information about the gym, a few names to look up, and some footage of their fighters. Watch it, think about it, and talk to whoever you trust.”
My eyes drifted to Keaton. “I will.”
“And Rowan?”
“Yes, sir?”
“If I represent you, I’m not going to make it easy. I’m going to push you toward what gives you the best shot. For you, that’s Florida.”
“And if I don’t move?”
“Then we keep talking, but I’m not going to pretend the path looks the same.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Send me the information.”
“I’ll text it over as soon as we hang up. Take some time with it.”
“I will.”
“Good. And for what it’s worth, you’ve got something. I wouldn’t have messaged if I didn’t think so.”
“Thank you, Grant.”
“We’ll talk soon.”
“Yes, sir. Thanks again.”
I ended the call and lowered the phone.
“Florida?” Keaton asked.
I slipped the phone into my pocket. “Yeah, Atlantic Combat.”
“That’s where he wants you?”
“He thinks it’s a better fit.”
Keaton looked away, and I knew he was already doing the math. Florida wasn’t a quick drive across town, a few nights at my parents’ house, space after a fight, or time to cool off.
It was across the country.
It meant him waking up in Sacramento while I trained in a gym in Tampa, with missed calls, different schedules, and both of us trying to hold on to something we’d only just stopped hiding from. We’d barely gotten each other back, and now someone was already handing me a reason to leave.
“I’m not making a decision right now.”
“I get that.” He sounded too calm and too controlled, as if he were holding back until he knew what reaction I needed from him.
“Keaton.” His attention snapped to me. “I’m serious. I’m not making any decisions without talking to you.”
“You don’t need my permission to chase your career.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” I stepped closer. “I’m not going to disappear to Florida and text you afterward.”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I mean it.”
“Because Florida is a hell of a lot farther than your parents’ house.”
“Believe me, I’m aware.”
He reached for my hand, his fingers sliding between mine, and I didn’t want to let go. “I hate this,” he admitted.
“Me too.”
“I hate that he said Florida. I hate that I can already tell he knows what he’s talking about. I hate that this might be good for you.”
“Baby—”
“But I want you to have it.” He squeezed my hand. “If this is your shot, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t take it.”
I didn’t know how to answer him because no one warned me this was part of being loved. Keaton wanted me to stay, but he was still telling me to take the opportunity if it was what I needed.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I confessed.
“If you go, we’ll figure it out.”
“You mean that?”
“I think so.”
At least he didn’t lie to make me feel better.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I know.” I snorted a laugh, and he pulled me closer by our joined hands and he said, “I love you too.”
I kissed him because I had to, because I didn’t know what the next month would look like, if Florida would become real, or how we were supposed to survive on opposite sides of the country when we’d barely survived in the same house.