Page 36

Chapter 36

Caged

Brandon

I’ve fantasised about a date with Parker Di Rossi my whole life, but not once did I imagine it would involve watching a cage fight sponsored by a local donut store. Not. Once.

It’s ten bucks entrance fee and since Parker sprung for dinner, I pick up the tickets.

He bristles, but it’s no big deal. Money’s about the only thing I don’t have on my mind right now. I won’t lie, to find out Parker’s been keeping shit from me isn’t exactly how I expected the night to go, but I know what this is really about, even if he doesn’t. I’m determined to keep an open mind.

Parker hands me a foamy beer in a red plastic cup. “I take you to all the fanciest places, huh?”

I grin. The place is half-full, but most of the chairs are empty.

His hand grazes my ass, and I catch it, turning quickly to make sure nobody has seen. I don’t want to put Parker off PDA, if anything—the exact opposite—but I have a hell of a lot more experience being into guys than he does. I can handle myself, but this isn’t the right environment for some dude-on-dude action.

He senses my anxiety and backs off. “Everything okay?”

“Not that my ass doesn’t appreciate the attention”, I adjust my volume so that only he can hear me, ”It’s just not 100% confident that copping is feel is worth having to fight off a bloodthirsty mob for”.

His eyes widen as they catch my meaning. It’s a reality you don’t need to think about unless you’re dating someone of the same sex. I remember in high school Parker and his girlfriends would be making out all over the place. Janitor’s closet. School bus. Detention. Even if I was out back then, I'd never have dared.

He glances around, eyes scanning the room for danger.

I feel a flicker of guilt. First dates are supposed to be magic, and I want to keep it that way. At ease , I murmur.

Parker probably could kick the ass of most of the guys in here. Not that this is something I particularly want to encourage. But then, maybe I don’t need to, given that he’s been making moves in that area on his own. His voice is in my ear.

“If anyone ever touched you, I’d kill them. No hesitation”.

The scary thing is I totally believe him. Scarier still, it’s totally hot. “Really? Straight up murder?” He nods. “I can’t help but notice that Dmitry Volchok is still alive”.

“Just say the word”. The heat coming from him is infectious. He steers me in-front of him, and we grab a couple of chairs near the hotdog vendor.

“Special contribution for turning me the fuck on”, I say softly, and the wicked look he fires at me gives me butterflies.

The lights flash overhead, and people start making their way towards their seats. I take another sip of frothy beer. My eyes find a promotional poster, and I nudge Parker.“Which one am I rooting for?”

“Chase”, Parker gestures to a guy with a shaved head, a couple of years older than us, and a sleeve just like Parker’s. “That’s our guy. He’s a complete badass. He’s taught me a few things, actually”.

“Really?” Even I can detect the note of jealousy in my voice.

“Just some throws that I wanna try”. His eyes are shining. “Badass ninja stuff. In a safe and controlled environment, of course”, he adds. “Where nobody gets hurt. And our fight gloves are made from pillows”.

“Just like all the best ninjas”.

Both fighters are warming up. I haven’t ever really watched MMA, although it’s been on in the background on enough boys nights with the team.

Freddie’s a particular fan, always hosting party nights where a stream of seemingly endless identical looking meatheads smash the shit out of each other and the referee takes far too long to jump in and stop it. I never saw the appeal, but Freddie made a point of inviting me. A pang bumps in my chest.

Aside from a text to congratulate him on his engagement, I haven’t spoken to him since I semi-lost my shit on the phone.

I lean back, angling my phone to get a full view of the cage, and snap a picture.

“Career Change”, I caption it and hit send. He’ll get a kick out of it, even if he thinks I’m a melodramatic dick.

I glance up at Parker, but his eyes are locked on the cage. I follow his gaze to where Zara is giving a last-minute pep talk to Chase, despite not being his coach tonight. In my mind’s eye, I switch Parker with Chase. How would I feel, seeing him in that position? Ready to go to war.

In the ring, two men are about to square off.The two guys who have just finished must have been in the heavyweight division. Super heavyweight, maybe.

“So”, I say conversationally, “If you were take this on professionally, you’d look like those guys?”

“What do you mean?” Parker asks, his eyes still on the cage.

“I just mean, and I say this with all due respect, that there are certain…levels, in terms of general fitness. It seems like”.

“I never realised you were so superficial, Carter. I’m very disappointed”. He shoots a sideways glance at me “Besides, those guys could pound you into the ground”.

“I thought you knew I was the giver”, I reply lightly.

His whole body reacts to my words without moving. “I guess I have lots still to learn”.

I’m about to respond when my phone buzzes. It’s Freddie.

And risk that pretty face?

I burst out laughing. “What’s funny?” Parker glances over. His eyes narrow as they catch my screen. “Who’s calling you pretty?”

I’m not going to lie. The jealousy is kind of a turn on.

“Just everyone”, I say nonchalantly, “Like always”.

“I see”, His mouth twitches. He edges slightly closer to me on the bench, keeping his eyes locked on the cage. “Well, if you’d like to turn your pretty head towards the cage, the fight is about to start”.

Chase’s opponent is about the same size as he is. He doesn’t have as many tattoos, but he still looks like a mean fucker.The referee, distinguishable by his black and white striped shirt, pulls both fighters into the centre of the ring, makes them touch gloves, then calls for the bell.

“Here we go”, Parker’s utterly transfixed.

They circle each other, before Chase throws some jabs that his opponent blocks. They both move swiftly, light on their feet, almost like they’re dancing.

“Come on”, Parker mutters. “You need to wait for an opening”, he adds to me. I’ve never seen him so engaged in anything. Well, almost anything.Suddenly, Chase shoots forward, grabbing his opponent’s leg and swopping in for a takedown.

“Go on!” Parker yells, his voice distinctive in a crowd of cheers, “Pivot! Take his back!”

Chase does just that, sliding his hand under his opponent’s chin. A minute later, he taps, and the crowd goes wild. “Holy shit!” Parker screams, jumping up and down. He grabs me, knocking beer everywhere, but his enthusiasm is infectious, and I’m jumping along, too, cheering away for this guy I’ve never met.

I could do this; a thought suddenly breaks through the noise. I could do this. Be with Parker, like this. It would be difficult, but it could work.

If he wants it to. Which, given his grip around my waist, and the way he’s forcing his pelvis into mine, he does. Oh fuck, he definitely does.

“I’m gonna go congratulate Chase”, he says, watching as other teammates go into the ring. “Wanna come?”

“You go ahead”. I might be new to the MMA world but even I can recognise when it’s a teammates-only moment. I settle back in my seat, take another swig of beer. I lose sight of Parker for a moment, and my eyes dart around to find him.

Something stops me cold. In the other corner, I see Chase’s opponent slump dejectedly on the floor. There’s blood pouring from his nose. Behind him I see a woman wiping away tears. I bite my lip as my mind replaces his face with Parker’s.

* * * *

“This is the best night of my life!” Parker’s grinning from ear to ear. He’s talking to Zara, but looking right at me.

“Keep grinding, and this could be you one day”. Zara nods approvingly. “One day soon. Do you boys want another drink?”

My heart drops, until Parker says, “Raincheck”, he says apologetically. “We’re already out past our non-existent curfew. But I'll see you in training tomorrow”. He waves goodnight, and we walk out towards the carpark.

“I know this isn’t the night we had planned, but...”

“This is really what you want to do with your life?” I search his face. “Fight?”

“I fight all the time”.

“So do I. It’s exhausting”.

“I don’t think I can be myself without it, Brandon”, his lip wavers. “But I can’t be myself without you either”.

Challenge accepted. I force down the quell of doubt in my gut. “You clearly love it. And I”, I’m about to say ‘love you’, but stop myself just in time, “Respect that”.

“Do you really think I could do it?”He looks so young when he lets his guard down. Too young to get your heart broken chasing the wrong thing.

“I think you can do anything”. And I mean it.Because he’s Parker Di Rossi, and if there’s one thing he’ll always have, it’s me to believe in him. Even if I’m going to worry myself sick in the process.

“I’m gonna do this. I’m gonna make this my life”. Parker’s eyes land on the portrait tattoo on his forearm. “And my dad’s gonna be…” he break off, covering the crack in his voice with a forced laugh.

“Proud? He was already proud. You know that, don’t you?” Something flickers across his face. I open my mouth to continue, but he cuts me off, pulling me closer.

“Who’s talking to me right now?” Parker smiles, “Best Friend Brandon, or Hot Date Brandon?”

“The Brandon that really needs to kiss you”.

I lead him quickly to a sheltered spot at the side of the gym. There’s barely a sliver of light between us and I close the gap in a millisecond, pressing my lips onto his. His whole body melts into mine.

“Brandon?” His voice is ragged.

“I know, I know, you’ll kill anyone who…”

“No, not that”.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I just want you”. He kisses me urgently, then parts to brush the fringe out of my eyes. “Every part of you, Brandon”. I laugh, but he doesn’t. “I’m deadly serious. I want you. Right fucking now. I can’t wait anymore. I won’t”.