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I smile at him, taking in his fresh face, looking like he wasn’t even in a fight tonight. Demon Mouse came out hard and ended his fight twenty-three seconds into the first round with an epic takedown and an armbar. His opponent didn’t even get a hit on him. Poor guy must be pretty disappointed he didn’t get to show Noah his hammer.
Adão groans, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t even know how fucking pissed I would be if I ended up losing that fight. All three rounds, at an intense fucking pace.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “I need to sleep for two weeks.”
Rosa chuckles and pats him on the back. “Same. Byers went so hard on my legs I think I’ll need a cane or something to get around for a bit.”
“And Luca,” Elijah smiles at me, “you get the prize for most busted-up face.”
I smile, painfully, as the cut on my lip pulls tight. “Two black eyes are better than one.” Everyone laughs, and I take a drink of my beer, trying not to laugh as well because my ribs are fucking sore.
Our waitress approaches our table cautiously, glancing around at us with our cuts, bruises and swelling faces as we laugh and joke around. “Another round?”
“Yes,” Max says with a nod. “On my tab.”
“Got it,” she says, and quickly turns to scurry away. Poor girl. I bet we look absolutely psychotic.
Seb shakes his head as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Fucking Hens. I can’t believe that bastard was even here.”
Max huffs out a breath. “I think with his reputation, he can’t get many fights unless he gets on the list as a last-minute replacement.”
“What are the fucking odds that he was a replacement for this fight and ended up with Luca.” Elijah looks at me with a serious nod. “Fucking asshole deserved that KO.”
I smile as everyone agrees, and we clink our glasses again to the downfall of Josh fucking Hens.
Ty is quiet beside me as he shifts his weight in his seat and takes a drink of his beer. As happy as he is that I beat Hens, I know it also carries other emotions for him. That asshole fucked him up, and to see him again right after he was finally able to move on from the fear that had a hold of him was tough. But to then watch him fight me, I know he is downplaying just how difficult that was.
But I took care of it.
For him.
“And Ty,” Max says, gently bringing the attention to him. “What a fucking comeback.”
Ty nods, smirking shyly as he looks down at his beer while everyone whoops for him.
“Ah yes,” I say, nudging my elbow into his. “A comeback. Ty is good at those.”
He rolls his eyes at me, but I see the small smile tugging at his lips.
And I take a moment to just watch him.
I fucking hated him in the years I’ve known him. And when we came to Fairburn MMA, I thought my hate for him was only going to grow. But as we were forced to work together, I ended up learning so much from him. Both in grappling, and in love. And I have to chuckle to myself as I think of the past two fights. We each fought with what we learned from each other, and I think it’s some of the best fighting we’ve ever done. And there’s something kind of poetic about the fact that in this fight, our newfound strength in each other’s fighting styles ultimately set us up to take the win with our original strength. A submission for Ty, and a strike for me.
We needed each other to get here.
“Well,” Max says, looking around at all of us. “LFA officials were impressed. I suspect you’ll all be receiving acceptances this week. And it’s only five weeks away. So, take this week to heal and rest, with light training only. Then we’re getting back into it.” He smiles around at us as we murmur our excitement. Then he turns serious again. “But if you don’t get accepted, it’s ok. We’ll get the next one.”
A slight rush of dread rolls through me at that thought, but I quickly push it away. I’m not going to worry about that right now. I took out an asshole chicken tonight, and the adrenaline from that victory is still pumping through my veins. So right now, that’s all that matters.
As everyone falls into conversation about LFA, I feel Ty’s hand slide onto my thigh under the table. I turn my head to him, and he leans in closer to me, his hand sliding dangerously close to my cock.
“This still work after that groin strike?” he asks in a low voice.
My heart jumps as I stare back and nod a bit too eagerly. “Fuck yeah it does.”
His hand cups my dick over my jeans and I have to bite back a groan.
“Good.” His lips tilt up in a soft lopsided smile. “Because I think I want to try out this whole celebration thing you keep nagging me about.”
I smile, ignoring the pain as I let anticipation take over. “I think you should.”
