Chapter 20
“You sure about this, Wolf?” Brody asks.
He stands on my left side, Brooks on my right.
Inside the ring, Raelynn and Juliet are offering Sloane pointers on how to land a bump properly.
Who thought this was a good idea? I was on the go with Brody for the latter part of the day, and Sloane was only supposed to pick me up from NextGen, but somewhere between her walking inside and now, Raelynn persuaded her to step in the ring.
They spent the last ten minutes warming up—stretching, push-ups, squats, crunches, and planks—to help get her body used to moving differently, but I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.
Sloane is not a wrestler. She’s not even an athlete.
Her idea of working out is yoga or going for a run.
Maybe a spin class—she seems like she’d be into that.
But she’s not a wrestler, and she has nothing to prove to any of us.
The more I tried to talk her out of it, the more determined she became.
If it weren’t for NextGen trainer and legend Juliet Briggs, I would’ve hauled my girlfriend over my shoulder and walked out without a second glance.
Juliet made a name for herself in EWE by entering a best-two-out-of-three match against Luna Haze back in the day, and by the end of a brutal third match, both women had cemented themselves in the history books.
I still remember watching that match, giddy at the idea of doing the same thing one day…
Look at me now. Still haven’t had a best-two-out-of-three match, but I have been in a couple of doozies.
All of this to say, I trust Juliet more than anyone, except maybe Savannah, to keep Sloane safe in this moment.
“She’ll be fine,” I say, but even I know it doesn’t sound convincing.
“Tuck your chin, bring it all the way to your chest,” Juliet says, and Sloane does as she’s told. “Now, when you hit the mat, make sure your arms are a little bent, you should look like you’re making a snow angel, and your hands should slap the mat.”
“Breathe out when you land,” Rae adds.
“You’re going to be fine.” Juliet smiles at my girlfriend, who I think might be starting to regret accepting Rae’s invitation.
“You don’t have to do this, Honey,” I say, looking up at her between the middle and bottom ropes.
“I know.” Sloane shrugs. “But I want to.”
“Sloane—”
“I’m fine, Bennett.” She shares an eye roll with the other two women.
“Yeah, Bennett, she’s fine,” Raelynn says with a muffled laugh, stepping back into the corner to give Sloane more space.
“Okay, Sloane. Go ahead, just like Rae showed you a minute ago,” Juliet says. “Like slipping on a banana peel.”
Sloane takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and hinges at the waist. Before I know it, she’s thrown herself back onto the canvas, her back landing in the exact spot her feet stood a moment ago. Her chin is tucked into her chest, arms spread with palms down, feet in a high tabletop position.
Holy shit, she did it.
“Good, Sloane!” Juliet claps. “Really slap that mat with your hands, but don’t try to catch yourself. Let the mat do the work. It will always be there to catch you, I promise.”
“I don’t know about always,” Brody mumbles from my side, earning a laugh from Brooks.
“Let’s go again,” Juliet says, helping her back to her feet. “Remember to breathe. You got this.”
One of the steel double doors creaks open across the gym, and Brooks looks over his shoulder, no doubt curious what his wife will think seeing the woman in the ring.
Sloane throws herself back again, this time with a smidge less hesitation, and smiles when she lands.
Brooks chuckles softly, turning back around.
That means one of two things: one, Savannah gave him the biggest what the fuck look, or two, Savannah is impressed.
Maybe a little annoyed, but impressed. Or potentially both.
“Don’t hold your breath, Sloane,” Savannah says, stepping up to the ring. “Exhale as soon as you hit the mat.” Her face remains neutral, gaze locked on the ring, waiting for Sloane to go again.
Sloane pushes up to her feet, never meeting my stare as she steps back into position. With one steadying breath, she slips on her banana peel, glues her chin to her chest, and exhales hard as her palms slap the canvas.
“Better, much better. You’re going to wear yourself out faster if you don’t breathe.”
“Savannah is right,” Juliet says, offering Sloane her hand. “Okay, time to speed things up a little. When I say set, you get into position, and when I say go, you bump. Got it?”
Sloane nods but visibly swallows before she meets my gaze.
“You sure you want to keep going?” I ask. “No one will think any less if you say this is too much.”
“She’s fine, Bennett,” Savannah says, and I glare at her. Sloane isn’t one of us. She isn’t Savannah, or Rae, or Juliet. But right now, I seem to be the only one concerned. Even Brooks and Brody seem to have relaxed after a few reps. “She has six of the best professionals guiding her. She’s fine.”
“You’ve got the basics, you’re just picking up speed,” Rae says, lifting herself to sit on the top turnbuckle.
“Aim for ten, see how it feels,” Juliet adds, waiting for Sloane to nod before they begin.
The first one is slow, still testing the waters, but the trainer wastes no time picking up the pace.
Sloane jumps back to her feet with every set, losing the little bit of hesitation left every time she falls back on the mat.
“Where have you been?” Brody asks, leaning around me to look at Savannah.
“Home,” is all she says, her focus still on Sloane.
“Cece asked her to come down to help with wedding stuff,” Brooks answers for her.
Wedding? Oh, shit, I almost forgot. We’re supposed to go to her brother’s wedding in September.
One of Savannah’s younger twin brothers and his now-wife eloped last year while they were on vacation in Colorado, much to the surprise of everyone in the family, except his older sister.
Their families knew Bodhi was going to propose but never expected the couple to go to the courthouse and make it official the very next day.
Now, they’re hosting a party for the rest of their family and friends.
“Is her mom still being a Momzilla?” Brody asks.
“Leader of the damn pack,” Savannah says before hoisting herself up onto the apron. “Don’t get sloppy, Sloane. You’re going to give yourself whiplash.”
Juliet glances over at Savannah, cracking a smile. “You’re going to make a great trainer one day, Sav.”
“I don’t have the patience.”
“Can you imagine her and Fata together? No one would make it out alive,” Rae says, shuddering at the thought. “Wolf definitely would’ve quit his first week.”
I scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were always late, and too worried about Harper.”
“I wasn’t always late. Every once in a while, I’d show up on time, and you guys acted like it was the end of the damn world. Juliet was there! Tell them, I wasn’t—”
“Oh, no. I’m staying out of this one,” Juliet says, lifting her hands before helping Sloane back up to her feet.
“Well, it’s funny you want to say shit to me about Harper, Rae. You about broke your damn neck anytime Brody walked in the damn door,” I say, and the man in question chokes on the drink of water he’d just taken.
Rae’s mouth hangs open, and Savannah laughs. “Let’s not forget, the first time you met him, you blurted out, and I quote, ‘I fucking love you.’”
“I did not!”
They go back and forth, but my attention is on the woman in the corner to my left.
Her eyes bounce around the ring, trying to keep up with the conversation, until she finally catches my gaze.
She smiles when I wink at her and rolls her eyes when I mouth, That was hot.
Maybe not in the traditional sense, but watching her try means more than she’ll ever know.
This is a different person from the one I sat across the table from a year ago.
This Sloane is trying to understand me, and the one thing in the world that has saved me over and over again.
Seeing her stand in the ring makes my blood pump a little harder.
“Yes, you did,” Juliet says with a smirk, ending the argument. “I was right there, and the way both of you melted in front of these two”—she points at the two men on either side of me—“was adorable. I knew then and there that Brooks and Savannah were going to end up together.”
Brooks chuckles, shaking his head. “How’d that feel, Sloane?” he asks, trying to get us back on track.
“Let’s just say I won’t be getting paid to do this anytime soon.”
The double doors of my bedroom open, and the sound of feet padding along the tile follows her to the kitchen.
Her arms snake around my torso, before I feel her lips press against my back through the fabric of my T-shirt.
She stays like that for a moment longer, her face pressed into my back, then takes a deep breath and steps back.
“Poured you a glass of wine,” I say, motioning toward the open bottle and two glasses at the other end of the counter.
“A homemade dinner and wine? You know the way to a woman’s heart, Bennett James,” Sloane says, and pushes herself up onto the counter.
She reaches for the full glass, taking a long sip followed by a sigh of contentment.
Her gaze falls to the strip of glossy paper next to the bottle, and from the corner of my eye I watch as she plucks it from the counter to examine it. “Bennett—”
“Found it earlier,” I say, unable to contain my smile.
“You kept it?” Sloane stares at the photo strip from our first date, running her thumb over the final picture. She smiles when she finally looks up. “I have mine, too.”