Rematch

Chapter 15

Audrey

Max: Hey, are you busy Saturday night?

Me: No. Why?

Max: I have a front row ticket for an event I’m fighting in that night.

Max: It’s yours if you want it.

Me: Make it two and I’ll think about it.

Max: Your little fling isn’t invited.

Me: I wasn’t going to bring him, stupid!

Max: Oh, alright.

Max: Thought I had to fuck you up for a second.

“What are you in here smiling about?” Gianna’s voice broke my stare from my phone as I waited for Max to reply.

Coincidentally, he’d texted me right after I hid in the on-call room for a break. We’ve been shooting messages back and forth for the past five minutes. I hadn’t even noticed the smile on my face until Gianna pointed it out.

“Nothing,” I said, locking my phone screen. It immediately lit back up as Max texted me again.

Peeking over my hand, Gianna caught his name at the top of the message bubble. “Oh, you’re in here texting your old boo. What’s he saying that’s got you cheesing like that?”

“Nothing. He just invited me to an MMA event he’s fighting in on Saturday night. Do you want to go?”

“Sure! But just because I’m going doesn’t excuse him asking you out on a date.”

“What? It’s not a date!”

“Okay, we’re just going to pretend like the two of you aren’t gonna go out for drinks and spend quality time together afterwards?”

“Still not a date.”

She pursed her lips in disbelief. “Now, I could be a shitty friend and let you keep lying to yourself about your feelings. But, I’m gonna be a real one and tell you that it’s okay to feel butterflies for him again. The more you fight them, the stronger they’ll get.”

I averted my gaze. “Yeah…”

Plopping down beside me, she asked, “What’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one.”

She tilted her head. “Are you worried about Carter and his feelings?”

“No,” I answered more bluntly than I meant.

Honestly, I could care less about Carter right now.

Ever since the carnival, he’s been a little sour towards me. When he walked me back to my father’s booth, he kept asking me over and over about Max. What were we doing? Why was I hanging out with him? Why does he keep coming around?

I tried to be understanding at first. From the outside looking in, I knew how we looked when he saw us.

Seeing your potential partner with their ex, laughing and too close for comfort, would ring anyone’s alarms. But, there was truly nothing going on.

If anything, my time with Max solidified what he’s been saying: we’re still friends.

Our platonic chemistry hasn’t changed. But, romantically…

? I still wasn’t sure. Nor was I trying to explore it.

But, Carter didn’t seem like he believed me - and that hurt. What point was there in dating if he didn’t trust me?

If he was going to keep acting like this, then I wasn’t going to bother wasting my time.

“Are you worried about your own?” Gianna asked.

I averted my gaze, unwilling to answer that.

Gianna set her hand on mine. “You know, it’s okay to be afraid. He was your first love. Your fear of losing him again is perfectly valid. But, you can’t let that stand in your way. You won’t know if you’ll rebuild stronger if you don’t try.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

She nudged me. “If you know, then stop stalling and text him back.”

“Okay, mom,” I teased, giggling a little. I unlocked my phone and read Max’s last text.

Max: Two tickets secured.

Max: A car will be at your house to pick you up at six.

“A car?” Gianna squealed, reading over my shoulder. “Oh, girl, he’s getting fancy on you!”

“Fancy?” I scoffed. “As if.”

The anticipation for the night helped me get through the rest of the week.

With each passing day, the butterflies Gianna mentioned grew larger and larger in number.

I almost forgot the skittish nerves that accompanied the thought of Max’s presence.

The first time I’d felt them in their entirety was in middle school.

Back when I first started developing feelings for Max.

I still remember the moment when I’d looked at him during a conversation on the walk home from school and noticed the sun painting over all of his features. His dark bronze skin. His brown eyes. Long eyelashes. Tight curls. Mischievous grin.

And, in an instant, my stomach was bombarded with ticklish flutters.

The sensation scared the hell out of me at first. After all, Max was my best friend, and it was weird to have a crush on them. Or at least I thought so at first.

Not too long after my own crush bloomed, Max started acting differently too.

He was complimenting my hair and my outfits and called me pretty sometimes.

He sat inches too close next to me, and practically growled at any other boy who came near me.

On our walks home, he started holding my hand or putting his arm over my shoulders.

He kissed me during a slow dance at the homecoming dance our junior year, and things were never the same.

It’s been so long I’ve dabbled in those feelings.

When they sparked the other night at the carnival, I pushed them down. Now, they were fighting their way to climb out of the hole I’d stuffed them in.

Saturday afternoon after I came home from an overnight shift, I took a power nap and showered before locking myself in my room to prepare for the night. I dug through my closet, pulling out any potential pieces and threw them on my bed.

As the racks grew slimmer, I noticed the tiny corner on the right side I’d purposefully hidden.

Still hanging there were some of Max’s old hoodies and jackets.

Most were ones I’d stolen because I liked the design, but there were at least two of his old varsity jackets from the gym he’d given me specifically.

One was smaller, from the last spring of middle school.

The other was large and full, from the summer before college.

He’d given it for me to take with me to school.

I wore it so much that by the time we broke up, it didn’t smell like him anymore.

But, I still wore it well into my senior year of undergrad anyway.

I grabbed the jacket and paired it with a crop top and a pair of jeans.

By the time I was ready, my phone was buzzing with a text from Max saying my ride had arrived.

I jogged downstairs and let my fathers know I was leaving.

Papa walked me to the porch, his brow raising at the sight of the Black Escalade waiting at the curb.

“Be safe,” he told me.

“I will,” I promised as I kissed his cheek.

As I walked down the pathway to the curb, the driver and passenger doors opened.

Two men stepped out, one dark-skinned with locs and the other with tawny brown skin and a short cut fade.

Both wore black button downs, slacks, and dress shoes.

The one with the locs smiled at me while the other kept a neutral expression.

“Good evening,” the smiling man said. “I’m Wesley, and this is Tysir. We’ll be your chauffeurs slash bodyguards tonight.”

I almost laughed. I never imagined Max having other men work for him - especially an odd couple like this. “I’m Audrey,” I said, holding out my hand. “It’s nice to meet both of you.”

Wesley reached out to shake it, but Tysir slapped his hand down. “Do you want him to break your fingers?” He hissed quietly.

“Well, it’d be rude to leave her hanging.”

Tysir rolled his eyes. He tried to move past Wesley to the back door, but Wesley blocked him with his arm.

“I’ve got it,” he said. Offering me another grin, he opened the back door. “For the lovely lady.”

Giggling, I climbed inside. “Thank you.”

Tysir shook his head. “Now, when he fucks you up, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Hey, he told us to be on our best behavior. I’m being polite!” Wesley argued. His voice muffled as he shut the door.

They climbed into the front seat and turned up the music playing on the radio.

The ride to the arena was pleasantly peaceful.

Wesley and Tysir didn’t talk much more, one focused on driving while the other kept an additional eye on the other cars on the road.

I used the time to text Gianna and keep her updated on our estimated arrival time.

When we arrived at the stadium, they practically formed a small shield around me with Wesley in front of me and Tysir following close behind.

Clearly, they were taking their job very seriously.

Either they held a lot of respect for Max or were deathly afraid of him.

Knowing Max, it was probably a little bit of both.

As we walked through the main lobby, I glanced around the crowds, searching for Gianna. I spotted her gold decorated afro puff near one of the concession stands. Smiling, I took a step out of my protective barrier.

“Aht, aht,” Tysir said, putting his arm out to keep me inside. “Where are you going?”

“My friend is over there,” I explained, pointing to her.

Thankfully, Gianna had caught sight of me too and was hurrying over to us. “Hey!” she exclaimed. She opened her arms to throw them around me, but Wesley quickly blocked her advance.

“You don’t have authorization to touch her,” he said, his serious tone contradicting the smirk on his face.

Gianna raised a brow. “Oh, you weren’t kidding about the security detail.”

“She’s my plus one,” I told Wesley as I lightly pushed him aside. I welcomed her into the hug she’d been aiming for. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think Max was going to go overboard like this.”

She squeezed me tight. “Don’t sweat it! Your man is in the big leagues now. It makes sense he’d want you to have some protection. People are crazy out here.” Her eyes drifted to Wesley, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “And there is nothing finer than a man in uniform.”

Wesley caught her comment and grinned wider. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tysir slapped him in his arm.

“Focus,” his partner warned. Moving closer to us, he shuffled Gianna and me back between them. “Come on you two, let’s get you to your seats.”

“Ooo, and they’re bossy,” Gianna cooed. She linked her arm around mine. “You’re just living your best life, huh?”

I shook my head. “Hardly.”

We let the men shuffle us through the crowded hallways and into the arena. They guided us to our seats that were a few feet away from the huge octagon sitting in the middle of the arena. Our row was the one directly in front of the black barrier separating the spectators from the main floor.

“What snacks can I get for you?” Wesley asked, though his eyes were on Gianna.

“You’re not our butler,” I said. “We can go back out and-“

Gianna put her hand over my mouth. “Two Coke sodas and pretzel bites with cheese.” She sweetened her smile. “Please.”

“Coming right up,” Wesley replied. He quickly backed out of the row and raced back through the aisle.

Glaring at Gianna, I shoved her hand off my mouth. “Now, why did you make that man do that?”

“Because when a man wants to wait on you, you let him.”

I shook my head at her. Tearing my gaze away, I glanced around at the other sights of the arena. The bright lights. The people filing into the stands. The big screens - frequently flashing Max’s name as one of the contenders for the headlining fight.

Clutching the opening of the jacket, I looked down at the embroidered cursive spelling the same. I ran my fingers over the stitching as a wave of nostalgia washed over me.

Max and I used to talk about our dreams all the time.

We’d sit in my bedroom for hours, talking about our futures and all the things we were going to do.

Scenes like this were always ones he talked about in detail.

I remember one of the summer nights before college, we hung out at one of our favorite parks and stared at the stars as we outlined everything we were going to do with our lives.

College. Moving in together. Starting our dream careers.

“I’m going to make it to the big leagues,” he told me with a big grin. “And I’m gonna put a huge rock on your finger.”

I’d laughed and shook my head. “I don’t need a big ring,” I replied, pecking a kiss on his lips. “I just need you.”

Gianna nudged me, breaking me out of the memory I’d briefly dipped into. “You alright?” She asked.

I nodded. “Just taking it all in, you know. He’s come so far. I’m proud of him.”

She smiled. “Have you told him that yet?”

“No,” I murmured. With everything else going on, I haven’t really gotten the chance.

“You should,” Gianna encouraged. “Tonight.”

Nodding again, I silently promised I would. After all Max has been going through, he deserved to hear it.

Wesley returned with our snacks. He practically shoved Tysir, who was silently guarding the end of the aisle, out of the way to hand us our food and drinks. Then, he took his empty seat to sit beside Gianna. Almost immediately, he leaned over and started making conversation with her.

I giggled as Tysir rolled his eyes and walked over to sit beside me, closing the other end of our protective barrier.

The first few matches of the event were entertaining.

I almost forgot how much more you see and hear when you’re up so close.

Beside me, Gianna flinched a few times at the sounds of bone hitting bone and bodies slamming to the ground.

“Jesus,” she murmured. “This shit is insane.” She leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Your ex used to do this for fun?”

“Yup.”

“And you let him. Y’all both crazy as hell.”

I giggled. “What? It’s kinda hot watching them fight.”

Her eyes widened as she cocked her head. “Hot?”

“Yeah. You can’t tell me you would mind being in one of those headlocks.”

“Headlocks?” A smile crept on her lips as she shook her head. “Oh, no wonder that man is wrapped around your finger like that. You freaky as hell.”

I turned my gaze back towards the octagon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She scoffed. “Yes you do. You aren’t innocent.”

Shaking my head, I ignored her and continued focusing on the match happening in front of us.

Time practically flew, and before I knew it, Max’s match was next.

The crowd went wild at the mere mention of his name.

When he actually walked out, the cheers in the arena were so loud it nearly broke my eardrums. Confidently, he strutted down the aisle with Tony and the rest of his professional team.

Raising his arms, he welcomed the cheers and acknowledged his loyal fans with smiles and nods.

His eyes scanned the room as he stepped into the octagon.

Our eyes locked, and he practically froze in place. I didn’t know why he seemed surprised. He knew I was going to be here. Yet, he was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t label.

Smiling, I waved at him.

Blinking, he broke out of the invisible hold on him and returned my smile. He put his gloved hand over his heart, patted it, and pointed his glove back out to me.