"How many more finals do you have Jess?" Kelsey asks as she applies a top coat to my toenails, which she has just painted a festive glittery red.
"One tomorrow, one on Tuesday and a final paper due next Thursday." Flipping through my notes for comparative psych I realize I left my textbook in Dean's room at the frat house. That's what I get for breaking my rule about hanging with the meatheads. Okay, that's not really fair. Most of the guys are pretty cool. There are a few tools in the mix but for the most part they've been tolerable the couple of times I hung out with Dean at the house.
"Tonight is the last fight until the new year right?" she asks as she caps the bottle of lacquer.
"Yeah, but I have to go grab my psych text from Sigma so I can double check these chapter questions before we go tonight. Can I borrow your car?"
"Go for it. But don't move for 10 minutes! You'll ruin my work." She waves her hand dramatically at my toes.
When I'm deemed safe to move again, I slip on a pair of shoes and head out to pick up my book, texting Dean on the elevator ride to the first floor.
Me: Hey, left my psych book in your room. You home?
Dean: Running. Go in. Meet you in 20. :-*
Me: :-)
It takes less than five minutes to drive to the Sigma house so I try to linger in the car, playing with the radio, checking my reflection once, twice. Stupid. Just go in. They don't bite. Ha, sure about that one? Ugh, okay, just go. I finally talk myself into leaving the car and I make my way to the front door just as two of the guys I recognize from Dean's soccer team come barreling out in front of me.
"Yo Jess, what's up? Dean's not here," the tall, burly one with dark, curly hair informs me.
"Oh I know, he's on his way back. I actually just came by to grab a book that I left."
"Mike and Greg are playing Halo, but you can go ahead in, don't mind the cursing," the shorter one, who I think might be Charlie, says.
"Thanks guys," I squeeze past them on the narrow landing and head into the foyer.
"…That's not what your mom said last night." A deep voice that I recognize with a wave of unease floods the hall.
"Son of a bitch! That asshole came outta nowhere." Another voice, one I don't recognize, joins the first. It must be Greg because the other one was definitely Mike; the oversized neanderthal who accosted me at the Halloween party a couple of months ago. Yeah, that Mike.
I tread softly across the wooden floorboards of the foyer on my way to the stairs. Of course when I'm framed right in the middle of the archway to the game room, one of those traitorous floorboards decides it wants to squeak like a rat. A fat, stupid, defiant rat.
Mike and Greg look up and spot me trying to make my escape. No such luck.
"Hey Million Dollar Baby, what up girl?!" Mike shouts from his spot in front of the huge flatscreen.
"Just grabbing a book I forgot here, I'll be out of your way in a minute." I decide that I'd rather explain to Dean that I couldn't stay and wait for him, than to hang around and talk to Mike.
"No rush," Mike removes his headset and makes his way over to me, dashing my hopes of making a quick exit. Greg, unfazed by my entrance, continues with the mission onscreen.
"So what do you think about this chick tonight? I've got five on this fight. Could use a little inside info," Mike winks at me and I try to hold back the disgusted cringe that wants to take over my face.
"Um, she's good. I fought her last spring. But she tore a ligament in her hand earlier in the semester. It's her first fight since, so I doubt it'll be too hard to beat her." I figure if I give him the information he wants, he'll eventually run out of things to talk about and leave me alone.
"Sweet. So how come Wilkins never goes to the fights?" He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to emphasize his muscles. It works, but it's also blatantly obvious. Total turn off. I wonder if he's aware of that.
"Dean's not much of a gambler. You live with him though, why haven't you just asked him yourself?" I shift my weight from foot to foot, anxious to go upstairs, get what I came for, and leave. But my ingrained manners refuse to allow me to be rude to this guy. If he weren't a friend of Dean's, it'd be a different story.
"It's football season, don't see him too much." He puffs out his chest, clearly proud of his position on the team. Though second string offensive lineman isn't exactly anything to brag about.
"Okay, well, I just have to go get—"
"It doesn't bug you that he doesn't show up, support you and stuff?" He cuts me off in the middle of my attempted escape.
"Uh, no. I've been fighting for a long time. Pretty sure I can manage my own 'stuff'." Now he's getting under my skin.
"Oh trust me, I've seen how well you manage," he says, drawing out the last word.
I'm wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean, so I ask, "What the hell is that supposed to—"
"Hey!" Dean calls out as he comes through the front door.
I send a few daggers at Mike with my eyes then turn to smile up at my boyfriend and plant a slightly over the top kiss on him. Whatever he was trying to insinuate in that little conversation, I want to make sure Mike knows that Dean and I are just fine.
"Hey," I say when I finally break contact with him.
"Uh, hi. What was that for?" He asks, still winded from the kiss or his run, maybe both.
"Just happy to see you," I reply nonchalantly. I can't help but notice the odd look Mike is giving us as he remains leaning against the archway, arms still crossed.
"Well, I'm not gonna complain about that. What's up, man?" Dean nods over at Mike.
"Not much, just getting the inside scoop on tonight's fight from your girl," Mike replies with a smirk on his face.
Dean turns to me, raising an eyebrow. "You've got a fight tonight?"
Stupid Mike… "Yes, it's no big deal. It's the last one before break."
"Yeah Dean, it's too bad you never come to these things. Should be a bloodbath." I don't think it's possible for me to want to punch Mike more than I do right now.
"Really?" Dean doesn't take his eyes off of mine even though Mike is the one talking.
"Totally. I bet Jessie will knock her out by the second round."
"Well, maybe I should go. Finally see my girl in action." He places extra emphasis on the word 'my' and shifts his gaze over to Mike.
"I thought you didn't like gambling?" Mike questions.
"Who says I have to gamble? Can't I just go to support my girlfriend? And stuff?" Dean pins Mike with a look that could freeze the Pacific.
"Yeah man, whatever. Tag along. We're leaving at 10:45." Mike, looking a bit dejected, makes his way back to Greg and the previously forgotten game.
I don't know what he was trying to pull with his little digs at Dean but clearly his plan backfired. I roll my eyes and turn my attention to Dean, who has apparently been watching me the entire time.
"Um, so I still have to grab my book."
"Come on, then." He holds his hand out and we make our way up the stairs.
Once we're both inside Dean's room I say what I refused to say downstairs in front of Mike. "You don't really have to come to the fight. I meant what I said, it's no big deal. The girl is still recovering from an injury and it won't—"
I'm cut off when Dean presses me back against the closed door and crushes his mouth against mine. He tastes salty and sweaty, but I can't even pretend that it doesn't completely turn me on. Just when I finally begin to regain my senses and get my limbs to move, Dean is pulling away.
"I can't stand that guy sometimes," he says quietly, his eyes on his thumb as it grazes my slightly swollen bottom lip.
"Huh?" is all I can manage. My brain is still a bit scrambled, my breath ragged.
"Mike. I was outside when I heard you two talking. I know he was giving you shit about me not coming to the fights. He's an asshole sometimes."
Blinking a few times, I begin to process Dean's words. "I thought you guys were friends?"
"Hardly," he walks over to his bed and sits on the edge with his arms resting on his knees and his fingers clasped together, "Ever since you and I started seeing each other he's been a real dick. He told a couple of the other guys in the house that I cock-blocked him with you at the halloween party so I could steal you away for myself. Like you're a god damned toy or something." At the last words he utters, Dean kicks the chest at the foot of his bed, causing the pile of books on top to tumble to the floor.
"Hey, look at me," I'm standing in front of him and I take his face in my hands, lifting so that he's looking up at me. "You and I both know that's a load of bullshit. It doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks."
He sighs and places his hands on my hips, tugging me closer so he can rest his head against my stomach. "I know," his voice is muffled against my sweater.
"Then why do you let it bother you?" I run my fingers through his still-damp hair.
"Because I love you, and I hate the way he talks about you, and to you. And the way he looks at you."
I can't stop the grin from spreading across my face. "Dean Wilkins," I pull his hair gently so that he's looking up at me again, "are you a little jealous?"
"Don't look so damn smug about it." He gets up and crosses the room in three long strides, tugging his sweat-logged shirt over his head and tossing it in the hamper in one swift motion.
I take his place on the bed and cross one leg over the other, resting my elbow on my knee and my chin on my hand. "That's so…adorable."
His glare only makes me laugh. Clearly not the reaction he wants, because he throws the towel in his hand at my head. "You done yet?"
"I'm sorry, it's just kind of cute, that's all. Also, completely unnecessary. Even if Mike was my type, and we both know he absolutely is not, it would never happen. See, I'm sort of crazy about this sexy, soccer playing photographer." Grasping both ends of the towel on either side of my neck, I stand and make my way over to Dean.
"Yeah?" He runs his hands down the length of the towel and pulls me against him. "Anyone I know?"
I answer by pressing my lips to his, effectively ending the conversation.
When we finally come up for air, I take the towel from around my neck and place it on Dean's. "So, I should probably get going. I really do have to study, and I've only got a few hours before I have to leave for the fight."
"Do you want me to pick you up?"
"What do you mean?" I ask, puzzled.
"For the fight. Do you want a ride? I don't mind swinging by to grab you and Kelsey."
"You're still coming?" I ask, sounding a little more hesitant than I would've preferred.
"I said I was, didn't I? Unless you'd rather I didn't go." He tries to keep any emotion off of his face, but I can see it fell a bit at that last part.
"No it's fine. It's great. Yes, you should come. Definitely," I say, trying to convince him that this is a good idea. Or maybe I'm trying to convince myself.
"Okay… then I'll pick you up at 10:30?"
"Um, would it be okay if I just see you there? I sort of have this thing, kind of like my pre-game ritual I guess you'd call it. I tune out, listen to my iPod on the way over, I don't really talk to anyone. It helps me focus." I bite my lip, hoping he isn't offended that I don't want to spend the extra time with him.
"No problem. I get it, we've all got our warm up routines. I'll see you over there later." He leans down to kiss me goodbye.
"See you later," I open the door to leave and remember the whole point of me coming here today. I lean down to pick up my textbook, scattered among the others on the floor. I smile sheepishly at Dean before leaving his room and closing the door behind me.
With my hand still on the doorknob I take a deep breath. Dean's coming to watch me fight tonight. That's okay, right? Not a big deal at all. Nodding to myself, I jog down the stairs and past Mike and Greg without a word, quickly closing the door behind me. I'm totally okay with this.
I'm totally not okay with this. I've picked up my phone ten times in the last few hours to call Dean and tell him to stay home. Each time I remember the look on his face and put the phone back in my pocket. Now it's almost time to leave and my nerves are working overtime. Dean has never seen me fight. I'm worried that he'll look at me differently when this night is over. And what if I choke because I'm worried about what he's thinking out there in the crowd? This was such a bad idea.
I have the overwhelming urge to call my dad and ask him for advice. He and my mom met at one of his fights, and I know she used to go watch him when they were dating. I wonder how he felt about all that. If only I could talk to him about this, but I know I can't. He can't know that I'm fighting for money so that I can replace the money I lost when the school took away my scholarship. Sighing, I stand and cross the room to my dresser and lean down so that I'm looking at my reflection in the mirror. What will Dean see when he looks at me after tonight?
Kelsey and I make our way to the car in silence. She respects the fact that I like to get lost in my head before a fight. It helps me to pull all of the anger and rage to the surface. Regardless of how happy I am with Dean, there's still this beast deep inside of me that claws at my skin, trying to rip its way out. I don't think I'll ever be rid of it. It's been there ever since Will, and no matter how hard I fight, I just can't get it out of my system.
The drive is short and I exit Kelsey's car with the sounds of Breaking Benjamin wailing in my ears. I pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and duck through the side door Kelsey is holding open for me. The hall is dark, the only light is from the moon pouring through the windows lining the left wall. I pull the earbuds out and wrap the cord around my iPod, handing it to Kelsey for safe keeping.
Already I can hear the echoes of shouts and cheers as we approach the door to the small auditorium where the ring resides. David's voice is booming out over the crowd, making the last call for bets. I tug the sweatshirt over my head and hand it to Kelsey as well. Stretching a few times and cracking my neck, I push through the doors and make my way through the crowd to the ring where my opponent is waiting for me.
It takes all of the willpower I possess not to scan the room for Dean. If I don't see him, I can pretend he isn't here. Maybe that will help me keep my focus. As I stand across from the girl whose sole purpose for being here is to beat me, I'm able to expel all unnecessary thoughts from my head. My only concern is taking her down. When the bell rings, my body takes over and I'm in this to win.
Mike may be an asshole, but he was right about one thing: it takes less than two full rounds to take this girl out. She's got a lot of skill, but unfortunately she's just not able to execute a lot of her moves properly due to her injury. I almost feel bad when I land the final blow. Almost. But then I realize I'll be able to get some really great Christmas gifts for my family with the extra winnings I'll pull in from this fight. Can't be too sad about that.
"That's my girl," Kelsey smirks when I get back to the corner and take the water she's holding out to me. "I can't believe you weren't nervous, what with the way Dean couldn't tear his eyes off of you the entire fight."
My eyes shoot up to hers and I suddenly remember that he's here somewhere. "Really?"
"How did you not notice? Girl, that stare could've burned holes through an iceberg."
I blink rapidly, looking around the room for the first time since we entered it twenty minutes ago. "Where is he?"
Kelsey speaks but I don't hear her, not really. The moment my gaze lands on Dean all of the sound in the auditorium fades to a dull buzz. He's in the back of the room, standing on one of the risers with a few guys around him. I can't tell what he's thinking. He just stares back at me, penetrating, unwavering, scorching.
I mumble something to Kelsey about getting a ride with Dean and then I'm pushing my way through the hoards of people. Dean begins to move down towards me and we both turn towards the exit. He is through the doors a few seconds before me and when I enter the hall I see him standing there, waiting. He takes my hand and it feels like a jolt of electricity shoots up my arm and through my entire body. He must feel it too because he's suddenly pulling me faster down the darkened hall. Abruptly, he shoves the door of an empty locker room open and yanks me in with him.
I don't have time to think, to breathe, I can't even blink before Dean and I collide in a tangle of limbs and lips and tongues. The room is completely dark, I can't see Dean but I feel him everywhere and there is something so erotic about that. I forget where we are, and the fact that there are probably close to one hundred people not even fifty feet away from us on the other side of the door, and I begin to claw at Dean's shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine.
My fingers find the center of his shirt and rather than waste time, I yank the two ends apart, scattering buttons across the floor. I spend about a second hoping that he wasn't too fond of the shirt, but as soon as my hands find the warm, smooth skin of his chest that thought disappears and there's nothing left in its place.
He grips my hips and I feel the cold metal of a locker against my back as his body slams into mine. With a fistful of my hair, he jerks my head back and his teeth and tongue do something unbearably wonderful just below my ear before returning to my mouth. I rip my lips from his only to trail them down his throat, dragging my teeth against the pulse pounding in his neck.
I rake my nails down his chest as he hisses out a breath. "Jessie, we can't do this here."
"Who says?" I tug at his belt.
"Okay, I know we can do this here, but we shouldn't. There's a ton of people out there and I don't want anyone walking in on what I plan to do with you." His voice is rough with desire and every muscle in the lower half of my body loosens.
"Damn it, Dean." I drop my hands and lean back against the cool locker doors, attempting to catch my breath.
"I know exactly how you feel right now. Believe me." His hands are resting on the lockers on either side of my head now. He brings his mouth to my ear and whispers, "Do you have any idea how hot it was to watch you in that ring tonight?"
I shiver as he exhales and I rock my hips against his. "I think I have a slight idea…"
"I'm taking you home. Now." He's gone and I'm given a moment to compose myself while he tries to find his shirt that I tore off and tossed somewhere across the room.
"Are you now?" There's a challenging tone to my voice.
"You bet that sexy ass of yours, I am." He takes my hand and we're fumbling through the dark for the door.
"If I'd known that you'd react this way to watching one of my fights, I'd have asked you to come to one sooner." I giggle when he finds the door and pulls it open, shoving me through it with his hand still tightly gripping my hip.
It's dark and quiet now in the hall, but with the little bit of light from the moon I can see that Dean's hair is a spiky mess, sticking up every which way. The collar of his shirt is half popped, half flattened and every one of the buttons has popped off so it hangs open as we make our way to the exit. I am only now aware of what I must look like. I didn't even grab my sweatshirt from Kelsey before I charged after Dean. Now I'm walking, almost jogging, through the hall with him in nothing but a pair of bike shorts and a tight racerback compression top.
As we burst through the door into the night, the cold breeze hits me and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. "Shit, it's freezing!"
"Don't worry. I plan to warm you up really, really soon." He opens the door of his car and I climb in, still shivering.
Once inside, he cranks the heat and makes a beeline out of the parking lot, his tires squealing around the turn, before the air even gets the chance to turn warm. I laugh at his impatience and attempt to defrost my hands in front of the vents.
He haphazardly pulls into a parking space near my apartment, jerking the keys from the ignition. We're quickly off and running from the car to the doors, into the elevator which was already waiting on the ground floor. As the doors shut, Dean pulls me close and ravishes my mouth with his. In the small space I'm suddenly aware of how sweaty and gross I must be after the fight. Luckily the doors part on my floor and we're making our way into the apartment before Dean comes to the same conclusion. I have to unlock the door, so I take it that Kelsey decided to give us some space, and Jamie must still be out studying with his friends.
Before Dean is able to pull me to him again I back away, hands outstretched to keep him at a distance. "Hold up, just give me a few minutes okay? I'm all gross from the fight. I need to take a quick shower. I promise, I'll be fast." The entire time I'm speaking to him, I'm slowly backing towards my bathroom.
"You know what? That sounds like an amazing idea." There's a gleam in his eyes and he's walking towards the bathroom doorway where I'm now standing, tossing his mangled shirt on the floor as he goes.
"What does?"
He arches one eyebrow and continues walking into the bathroom, playfully forcing me through the doorway. "Do you really need to ask?"
Dean closes the bathroom door behind him and the lock clicks into place. Laughing, I jump into his arms, knocking him back against the door.
"Guess not."