Dark Horse Chapter 1
Dark Horse
Chapter One
Eli
As I walk up to O’Rourke’s Corner MMA and Fitness on Friday night, the noise hits me first. There’s a long line stretching down the strip mall sidewalk, but I see Troy just outside the door.
Brawler’s Bar and Grill has a food truck in the parking lot.
They sponsor a few of the fighters here, so that tracks.
Their wings have that perfect blend of spice and flavor, and trust me, I know wings.
Tiernan’s put a lot of work into this Exhibition Night.
“Eli! Been waiting for you, my man. Let’s get you inside.” Troy calls out, motioning toward the front of the line.
My chest warms at his familiarity. There are few places I’m accepted for who I am, and I find it ironic that an MMA gym filled with queer fighters is one of them, and I’m not even queer myself. My life seems to be full of irony lately.
“Thank you, Troy. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Had specific orders from Micah to watch for you. But I would have done it anyway.” Troy winks at me as he guides me past the crowd just inside the entrance.
Micah, his boyfriend, handles Tiernan’s social media and PR.
His sarcastically dry sense of humor always makes me laugh.
They’re actually perfect for each other, which reminds me that it’s been way too long since I’ve dated someone I genuinely liked.
My mom’s always trying to set me up, but I’ve been avoiding her calls lately.
She always thinks she knows what I want, but really it’s about what she wants.
She and Dad are big into appearances. I’m not.
The thump of the hip-hop bass is loud enough to feel through the soles of my loafers, but the roar of the crowd is even louder.
The questionable odor of stale beer, body spray, and sweat is everywhere.
The gym is packed, with fans filling every available space.
I hope that’s a good sign for Tiernan’s business. I love seeing my clients flourish.
Troy parts the crowd easily, leading me deeper into the gym.
The man is huge, which is perfect for maneuvering through a crowd.
I love that despite his size, he’s got a huge heart, always making sure everyone’s eaten, bringing in food and checking in with everyone.
He’s basically the gym’s den mother. I’ll freely admit I don’t mind a bit.
“The guys are at the merch table over there.” He points toward the side of the gym where the heavy bags usually hang.
They are absent tonight in place of a long folding table.
A black cloth with the gym logo is draped over it, and it’s covered with all sorts of merch.
T-shirts representing all the gym’s fighters, amateur and professional, lie in neat piles next to baskets of keychains, water bottles, and beer coozies proudly displaying the gym logo.
My eyes drop to Suerte’s t-shirt. Black, because of course it is, with a sugar skull topped with a butterfly.
I recognize the tattoo on his chest. Above the silkscreen of his tattoo is “Suerte” in Old English lettering.
It’s quite stunning, and I’m absolutely grabbing one for myself.
Arlo and Micah are seated behind it, helping customers. Despite the crowd waiting in front of the table, my eyes immediately find the one person I’m always looking for whenever I’m here.
Esteban “Suerte” Vega is standing at one end of the table like an old-school bouncer.
Surveying the crowd with intently focused eyes while wearing an expression meant to keep people at a distance.
He’s barely contained violence, and it’s mesmerizing.
He’s two hundred pounds of chiseled muscle, complete with tattoos and an attitude that makes men reconsider their life choices.
I’ve seen it happen in the cage. Frequently.
No doubt too frequently. I don’t have a lot of hobbies.
But he does it with such grace that it draws me in every single time.
It’s like watching a tiger in the wild. He’s every bit the predator.
And I find it fascinating, even if sometimes I feel like prey.
Arlo offers me a seat next to him and a quick hug. It makes me smile. Micah gives me a quick wave, too busy with customers to chat. I’m feeling like a VIP tonight. Everyone’s going out of their way to include me, and I appreciate it more than I’ll admit.
“Hey, can you help me bag things up?” Arlo asks, pointing to a pile of thin plastic shopping bags before moving on to the next customer.
I’m happy to help. It’s so much better than standing around with nothing to do.
I should be used to going places alone; God knows I’ve been doing it long enough, but it’s still awkward.
Sometimes I envy the guys and their new relationships.
It must feel amazing to find your person.
I’m not entirely convinced I’ll find mine, and most of the time I’m fine with that, except sometimes at night when my chest aches.
The fighter’s personalized merch disappears the fastest. I had to stash a Suerte t-shirt in my messenger bag, or I wouldn’t have gotten one at all.
Arlo pretends he didn’t notice when I pass him some cash.
I appreciate that. Arlo and Micah couldn’t be more thrilled about the merch table’s success, since this was their idea.
I was shocked when Tiernan went along with it, but he’s changed recently.
For the better, I think. Arlo is good for him.
Roundhouse MMA, the opposing gym, has a merch table set up next to ours. Two very attractive women are running the table with military precision—a blonde and a brunette. I notice but, strangely, I don’t feel any kind of attraction.
“Who’s that?” I ask Arlo.
“CC Delacroix. Ryan’s wife. He and Tiernan are buddies from their fighting days. The dark-haired woman is their girlfriend,” he tells me, waving as she looks over at us.
“Both of them?” I ask, attempting to hide my shock.
“Yup. I like them more than I thought I would.” Arlo looks genuinely confused by that. Interesting.
The blonde waves back with a big smile before going back to her customers.
“She seems nice,” I say.
“Yeah, surprisingly, she really is,” Arlo replies. “Did you hear the news? Tiernan and Ryan decided to let them go three rounds tonight. Can you believe it?”
“Is that good?” I ask. My knowledge of MMA is limited despite my history with the gym.
“Yes! It’s just that they normally only go one or two. They’re making this an event for sure.” Arlo’s face is lit up with excitement.
“Did you see the food truck outside? Tier went all out,” Micah says.
“I did. I wasn’t hungry, which is good, because there was a huge line.” I’m so glad I ate dinner at home tonight. I love Brawler’s food, but that line was excessive.
I’ve gotten to know Arlo better in the last few months while training him on the bookkeeping. Tiernan’s been a client of my CPA practice since he opened his gym, and he’s always hated the paperwork side. Arlo’s a natural at it. I keep telling him he should take a few accounting classes.
Suddenly the line is gone, the table’s almost empty, and we can all breathe again.
“That was crazy. They were like a horde of locusts,” Arlo says as he collects the cashbox and heads toward the office. “I’m gonna put this in the safe. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. No way am I missing the good stuff.”
“Tier has our seats saved. You won’t miss anything,” Micah calls after him with a dry chuckle.
Arlo can be a little bloodthirsty. He’s fully committed to the fan experience, and it’s the absolute best. I understand. I enjoy it far more than I ever thought I would. Micah and I take our seats. A few minutes later, Arlo rushes up, breathless. Micah laughs.
“You’re not gonna miss it,” Micah tells him.
“I didn’t want to be late,” Arlo says, taking his seat on the end and waving to Tiernan, who nods before turning back to the men in the cage.
“Tier would never start without you, Lo,” Micah murmurs.
“I know. God, he’s the sweetest,” Arlo whispers, loudly, before giving us a cheeky grin.
Glancing at Esteban is risky for me, but I do it anyway.
It’s almost as if I can’t help myself. He draws my gaze like a magnet pointing north.
More often than not, his eyes are already on me.
I don’t know what to think of that. As always, the butterflies in my stomach are in full force the minute his eyes lock with mine.
He’s different tonight, though, and I can’t put my finger on it.
Probably because there are so many people here.
His eyes are more intense, but thoughtful.
At one point, I even caught the corners of his mouth turn up when he caught my gaze.
The heat that my body generates at that gesture is unnerving. And new.
I keep looking even after he looks away, his brow furrowed, eyes intent.
I can’t pull my eyes away. Looking at Esteban objectively, he’s an attractive man, if intense.
He doesn’t smile often, but when he does, it’s really something.
Some people find him intimidating, but I’ve never felt that way.
He takes his training seriously, I’ve noticed, and it obviously pays off because he has an impressively muscular body.
I can’t help but admire his physique. The muscles, the tan skin, the dark hair, and those whiskey-colored eyes—it all adds up to an impressive package.
A package I am spending far too much time staring at for a supposedly straight guy.
Dark Horse – coming in August 2026.