The Cruiserweight Read Online Free PDF

Your feud with him has been
going on for awhile.”
    “Yeah, we’re having fun. I know a lot of people
think Mac has a big head because of his status, but he’s a cool,
funny guy outside of the ring and looks out for the smaller dudes.
He also treats the girls like princesses, always sending them
flowers and stuff. I dig guys being nice to women, which is one
reason Mac and I get along so well.”
    “Speaking of which, thanks for the flowers you
sent me, they’re beautiful.”
    “It’s the least I can do for both the great
time we had at our meeting and that cool gift you gave me. I even
got Patrick sending them to people.”
    “How is he these days?”
    “Much better. Not depressed any more. Just made
a commercial.”
    “ I don’t think I saw it. To be
honest, I don’t pay much attention to those.”
    “Didn’t air yet. The last time I spoke to
Patrick, his commercial was still in the editing stages. He has a
real nice girl running an official website for him out of New York.
You may want to check it out.”
    Patrick was a contrast of his former tag
partner. Brett was short, fair-skinned and considered at best by
most average in appearance. Patrick stood five feet, ten inches,
weighing a little over two hundred pounds. He had genuine tan skin,
near-black hair, and stunning hazel eyes. His mix of Mexican and
Cherokee heritage had paid off with dazzling good looks. Even when
he wasn’t wrestling, Patrick turned heads among female fans. When
he lost his job a year earlier with the promotion where Brett
worked, Patrick was devastated, disappearing from public view for
months. He had resurfaced several weeks earlier, looking into
acting opportunities.
    Brett typed in the address of Patrick‘s
website, which Karen noted for later reference. “Now you’re not
going to dump me for him, are you? Most girls do.”
    “ Of course not! I never did thank
you for spending so much time with me when we met. I’m amazed to
find out how much you and I have in common just from talking now
and that night.”
    “You don't fawn all over me with the whole ‘I
love you! I‘m your biggest fan!!’ line or talk about having sex
with me,” he replied. “I swear, if I hear either one more time,
I’ll jump off the nearest bridge.”
    “I don‘t know how you deal with all of
that.”
    “All of the fawning and ass kissing bug me more
than you know. That’s what I like about you. You’re different, and
I think we’re going to be good friends.”
    “Me too. I’m shocked to learn things about you
that haven’t appeared online or in magazines.”
    “Don’t believe everything you read. Most are
rumors, speculation, or innuendo at least ninety-nine percent of
the time. Unless I tell you different, take what’s printed as a
bunch of bullshit.”
    “In my business, I’m conditioned to do such
unless I get my stories from a reliable source.”
    She asked a question which had weighed in the
back of her mind for some time. “May I ask you something, provided
you won’t get upset? You don’t have to answer if it makes you
uncomfortable.”
    “Sure, go ahead.”
    “There was a story published about you failing
a dozen marijuana tests. As a result, your brief push leveled off.
The article said you were a frequent smoker who paid the
thousand-dollar fine without a second thought and continued your
habit.”
    “Yeah, but the fine is eight hundred
dollars , not a thousand. The times I know I’m going to fail,
I’ll write a check in advance. Nowadays, they’re letting up more on
the whole pot issue. It doesn’t seem to be as big of a deal as
painkillers, steroids, or far worse things others used.”
    “I’ve heard about the whole drug
problem.”
    “Keep in mind some people do pot just for fun.
I use weed for medical purposes to treat my anxiety disorder. I’ve
done better with that than traditional medications. Smoking a joint
makes it easier for me to focus, concentrate and improve my work in
the ring. Contrary to some