nice meeting you.”
As the music started up, Regan made his way back to his friends. She immediately recognized the beat coming from the speakers and couldn’t hold back the bubble of laughter. Lady Gaga? You’ve got to be kidding me . . . She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as the intro continued to play. This guy is walking out to “Love Game”? Seriously?
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s the fight you’ve been waiting for! Put your hands together for Aiden ‘Disco Stick’ Kruuuze!”
The crowd went wild and the music boomed louder.
Ryann followed the gaze of the masses and watched as Aiden descended the aisle, pumped up and moving to the beat of the music. Men slapped his back as he passed them and women pawed at him. Fans waved signs proclaiming things like I love you, Disco! , Go Disco! , and I’ll take a ride! Once he reached the main floor, his team surrounded him. A short, bald man approached, elbowing his way into the throng. After patting Aiden down, he wiped something greasy on Aiden’s face, and the fighter nodded periodically to the questions shouted at him, but she couldn’t hear what he said over the noise.
Her stomach knotted with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation—emotions he did not seem to share, because that cocky grin he wore never faltered.
After a few back-slapping hugs from his team, Disco Stick entered the octagon and promptly began parading around the ring as if the fight was already won. Despite herself, Ryann found his confident arrogance a bit charming, the roar of the crowd infectious. They loved him—then again, who wouldn’t? He exuded a raw, masculine sex appeal that women went wild over, and as much as Ryann hated to admit it, not even she was immune to his charms. She was finding it very difficult to take her eyes off this stunning man.
What she didn’t expect, however, was for the fighter to turn and lock gazes with her. There were easily sixteen thousand people in here, but it was her he stared at, and holy shit if that didn’t shoot a heady sensation right into her core. That glam-cam smile softened, taking on a sensual grin that absolutely melted her heart.
He seemed genuinely pleased to find her here, which made zero sense, because he didn’t even know her. Yet, the connection they shared, although brief, was absolutely undeniable. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who felt it. But before her heart could gallop away from her head, she sternly reminded herself, He’s engaged, you idiot. Stop looking at him like you want to take a spin on that disco stick. He’s a paycheck and that’s it.
This wasn’t real. It was nothing more than a show for the fans. Unable to hold his amber stare another moment, she broke the connection. Looking into her lap, Ryann took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on breathing and calming her racing heart. Her cheeks burned with the flush of desire, her body aching in places she’d forgotten existed after such a long dry spell. By the time she rallied the courage to look up again, Aiden was across the octagon and waiting in his respective corner for his opponent to enter. If it wasn’t for her heart still rioting in her chest and the undeniable moisture in her panties, she might have convinced herself she’d imagined the whole thing.
Regan hadn’t been kidding. Aiden did put on one hell of a show. He was a great fighter, as was his opponent. The brawl wasn’t as one-sided as she’d been expecting. The fighters exchanged blows in two rounds of stand-up that had her wincing every time Aiden took a shot, and inwardly cheering every time he gave as good as he got—and then some.
Watching him fight was both exhilarating and captivating, the control and power he exuded, astounding. She’d come tonight expecting to hate MMA, and was only here because this was her job—or so she told herself when she’d taken a painstaking amount of time deciding what to wear tonight. There weren’t a lot of colors she could get
Learning to Kill: Stories