Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Once our tickets were scanned and we walked into the convention center, Brice pointed out the concession stand before telling me he was going to go sit down. He didn’t want to risk missing anything. I was hoping to enjoy a conversation together while waiting in line, but I understood that he was excited for the fight, so I just nodded with a smile before he vanished.
I made it to the snack counter after several minutes of waiting. I looked over the menu and decided to get Brice some popcorn and a soda. I thought it would fill him up for the time being without ruining his appetite for dinner later.
Once I paid for the food, I started down the hallway towards the seating entrance. I saw an ATM along my way and stopped to withdraw cash to give to Brice.
When I entered the arena, a wave of noise hit my ears. The rowdy crowd was whooping and whistling, waiting for the spectacle to begin. I showed my ticket to an usher who was standing close by, and he pointed up a tall flight of stairs. I gulped when I saw Brice sitting near the top of the rows.
I kept my steps slow and measured, trying not to get winded or sweaty as I climbed. I didn’t want Brice to see me clinging to life just from clambering up some stairs. I imagined that wouldn’t help his perception of me.
When I finally reached the row where he sat, I took a few slow, deep breaths through my nose to settle my breathing. My heart was beating quickly, but luckily, he wouldn’t be able to tell.
I turned sideways and inched my way down the row, trying my best not to bump into anyone who was seated there, but feeling my ass nudge them a few times on accident. Thankfully, nobody said anything, and Brice didn’t notice, as he was on his phone when I reached his side.
“There you are,” he huffed, putting his phone back into his pocket. “What took you so long?”
“There was a long line,” I explained as I passed him the popcorn and drink. His lip curled up as he examined the food. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s fine, I guess,” he replied unenthusiastically. I would have ordered him whatever he wanted, but he had run off before I could ask. But I didn’t say anything; I hated confrontation as much as I hated disappointing anyone.
Instead, I tried changing the subject to focus on something he enjoyed. “So, how long have you been following boxing?”
“Shush,” he replied through a mouth full of popcorn as the lights turned down all around us. “It’s starting.”
Deflated, I turned my attention to the ring, which was far below, seated in the center of the arena. Even though I was high above it, and the room was dim, I could clearly make out the man in a tuxedo walking to the center of the mat.
A spotlight turned on above him. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the man said into a cordless microphone. “And welcome to the main event here at Spring Arena.” He paused to allow the audience to clap and cheer before continuing, “Tonight will feature a twelve-round match between two super heavy-weight boxers vying for their shot at the title.”
After another round of applause, a second spotlight illuminated a doorway in the corner as the announcer said, “In the red corner, standing at six foot two and weighing in at two hundred seven pounds, is Marco “The Hammer” Gonzales!”
A mix of cheers and boos rang out through the crowd as smoke machines blew puffs of white clouds in front of the doorway. A tall, broad man walked out, dressed in a red robe and matching gloves. When he reached the ring, Marco stripped off his robe, revealing tanned, muscled skin. He shadow boxed with the air as the crowd went nuts. Brice booed loudly; apparently he was not a fan of Marco.
“And in the black corner, standing at six foot four inches and weighing two hundred eleven pounds, looking to keep his undefeated record strong, is Sloan “The Deity” Vasilios!”
More smoke rolled out in front of a doorway at the opposite side of the mat. When a large figure dressed in a black robe stepped out, many people in the crowd (including Brice) jumped to their feet. Whistles and shouts surrounded me. Several women squealed.
Sloan ducked between the ropes to enter the ring. When he shrugged off his robe, my jaw dropped, and I felt like squealing myself. Hell, maybe I did. I was totally disconnected from my own mind, unable to think or focus on anything except for Sloan's body.
Olive skin stretched over mounds of muscle. His right arm was covered in swirling black tattoos from his wrist to his shoulder before spilling onto his chest. He had close-cropped dark brown hair which also spattered across his pecs and stomach, and formed a neatly trimmed beard. I felt beyond guilty for ogling the man as I stood next to my date, but I couldn't help it. Sloan captured my attention and wouldn't let go. He had an inexplicable hold on me which stirred longing in my heart and desire in my soul. It felt as if he was casting a magic spell over me.