Ballad (Rockstar #5) (32 page)

I can’t believe I finally got to meet him. I’ve been to a ton of his fights but he usually doesn’t even look into the crowd. I owe Aria big-time, and she doesn’t even know it! That bitch is getting chocolate, lunch, or something.

After that exciting and gut wrenching—in a good way—experience, we all take off. We each head in our own direction; I’m headed home to change. I pray I’ll get to run into Jace again tonight. This time, I’ll be on my game.

one hour later…

Pulling up to the club, the cab driver circles the lot a few times before parking somewhat near the front. I pay the grungy-looking guy and shoot Aria a text so she can meet me at the front. One positive thing about celebrating with fighters is they always have VIP access with everyone knowing exactly where they are.

The club thing is a little played out to me, since I’ve done it so much in the past, but I’m willing to sacrifice if it means I get to see the man hunk again. It’ll be like watching a wildlife show on TV. I’ll be watching the wild beast out of his natural environment and all that. Giggling to myself imagining Jace in the middle of an African field wearing animal print shorts and surrounded by wild animals, I walk closer to the club entrance.

When I went home earlier I changed into a cute little teal dress that comes mid-thigh but isn’t too tight, so I have plenty of room to dance. I love that this dress is low enough in the back that you can see my tattoo. I have script going across my shoulder blades of the Nine Inch Nails song “Hurt.” God, I love that song—story of my damn life with a drugged out ex still clawing at my heart occasionally and a mother who gave up on me.

I shake that thought off, wondering what Aria decided to wear. I paired my sexy little dress with my favorite pair of four-inch snake print heels. I may not dress too loud, but I always have to wear a pair of killer looking shoes with my outfits.

Aria’s waiting right outside the door, waving at me as I get closer. Love the shoes, but, fuck my life, they kill my feet. My toes scream in protest with each step I take, but after a few drinks I won’t notice that little torture anymore.

JACE

Taking a long pull
off my Coors longneck, I scan the club. I love Austin, and, thanks to 6
th
Street, there are plenty of cool bars and clubs to go to. With the plentiful amount they usually aren’t overly packed. I’ve lived here the majority of my life, so I’m pretty familiar with the big city.

I check out the different bar stations, booths, the walkways, and the dance floor throughout the club. We’re in the perfect spot to see everything. I’m looking for one particular face amongst the crowd though. Gavin said they were all coming; that’s the only reason why I didn’t back out tonight. I’m not too sore, but I’m fairly worn out following the adrenaline rush of the fight.

Earlier I loved it that Chyna didn’t act like some groupie and treated me normally. Hell, part of me would have thought she wasn’t interested at all. She wasn’t speaking to me; but, she was staring at me like I was dessert. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had a clue. I enjoy the occasional groupies though, whenever I need a release; otherwise, I usually don’t waste my time on them. Speaking of, some blonde with big tits keeps trying to talk to me, but, as soon as I see Chyna, I don’t hear a word the blonde says. Just the name Chyna alone, is intriguing to me. Gavin warned me she’s a little wild, but I like them wild when I’m making them scream my name.

Gavin bumps into me with his arm, and I look over towards him, hissing, “Shit, watch it dude! My side is bruised from that idiot today. I think my toe is messed up, too.” Somehow I always end up with a fucked-up toe.

He chuckles, “I see you scoping out Chyna. Just don’t do some stupid shit like break her heart. I don’t want Aria pissed at me because you play but don’t stay with her girl and all.”

Gavin has never been this serious about a chick. He’s wound up tighter than a spring around her and ready to lash out at anyone who appears threatening. I know I’ll end up fucking Chyna, but I’ll have to figure out a way to remain friends in the end. I like Gavin way too much, and I’m really happy he has Aria.

Bumping his arm back with mine, I jazz him up a little—it’s what friends do. “Don’t worry man, she looks like she’s a big girl and can handle herself.” I smirk to myself, remembering how she appeared to be in a trance as she ogled my pecs.

“I mean it, Jace. If you fuck with her, I’m going to have to deal with it. It’s too soon with Aria, I know she won’t put up with it.”

He and Aria have been back and forth with drama over his brother, so I can see why he’s apprehensive. I know I wouldn’t want to be a football star’s brother; I can’t imagine the competition he has to deal with. Even if he’s a really good fighter, football is a more popular sport. I’ve had my own shit to deal with as far as brothers are concerned. Luckily, mine hasn’t been around in quite a while. I don’t have time to waste on thugs and drug dealers right now. It’ll be best for both of us if he keeps that distance.

My eyes land on Chyna again.
Ahh…here she is. I blink a few times, yup. Fuck, she’s hotter now than when I first met her. Her smile lights up the entire damn room.

Chyna and Aria are grinding with each other on the middle of the dance floor. I nudge Gavin and gesture toward where they’re dancing. I bet Gavin is going lose his shit; this chick has him so wrapped up, he’s probably going to lock her in a room somewhere and never let her out.

He mumbles something as he stares at Aria for a moment. He glances back at me briefly, and then returns his gaze to the dance floor. I hear him growl “motherfucker” and he storms towards the crowd. I look back over and my jaw literally drops when I discover Chyna and Aria making out. There’s like 500 other fuckers watching them, and they’re enjoying every minute. This chick is definitely gonna be screaming my name tonight. Fuck these fools standing around her!

Gavin’s almost to the girls when I quickly storm over to Chyna. I’ve got to make my presence known before any of these idiots get ideas. Once they see me right up on her they should get the message to get lost. I don’t know why I’m feeling possessive over Chyna. No way do I want all these idiots checking her out even more than they have already before the sexy-as-sin make-out session.

By the time I reach Chyna, Gavin already has Aria locked against him, buffed up and a snarl like he’d rip any of the dude’s heads off that so much as look at her. Good, I’ll do the same. These guys would be flat out stupid to mess with not only one, but two big, well-trained MMA fighters. I get in front of Chyna and smile down at her pretty face.

“Little Miss Chyna, we meet again. I was wondering if I’d see you tonight.”

Chyna’s slightly flushed from dancing and hits me with a mischievous smile in response. Eminem’s song “Berzerk” starts playing over the loud club speakers.

She pulls me to the dance floor with her and immediately starts rubbing against me as we dance. I’m surprised, because she didn’t utter a word to me earlier. Now, she’s brimming with confidence, and, in my opinion, there’s nothing sexier on a woman.

With eyes bright, she leans toward me and yells to be heard over the music, “I love this song!” Her voice is so sweet and feminine, and she sounds innocent and carefree. Hell yeah, this is my kind of chick. I love that she’s not shy and wants to have fun. This is going to be too easy with her.

“Yeah, it’s cool. Keep dancing like that, and I’ll dance to anything with you.” She just laughs. I’m thinking she’s had a few drinks already, giving her a little liquid courage.

This girl can move! And, she’s so sexy doing it. I’m captivated by her smile and the way her body moves against mine. I block everything else out except her; I can finally take a breath and feel my body start to relax for the first time today.

Pulling her closer, I dance away my leftover stress from my fight, losing myself in her sweet scent and the relaxing beats thrumming throughout the club. Thank fuck Ford didn’t get me very many times, or even the beer wouldn’t be helping me move right now. I got lucky with him being off his game today; it turned into one of the easiest fights I’ve had in the past year. I’m not complaining at all; I’ll never complain when winning a fight. However, I’m a little disappointed that it wasn’t more competitive. I’ve trained my ass of for this fight. Here I am drinking and dancing, when normally after a fight I puke, eat pain pills, and sleep.

the next day…

Well, things didn’t go as I had planned last night. Chyna went to her own house instead of mine, but I
did
get her number. I’m glad, too, because I can’t seem to get her sexy little ass out of my mind. Ever since I got up this morning I’ve wanted to text her to see what she’s up to, but she drank a ton last night and she’s probably hungover. God, last night was a blast.

I’m a little sore from the fight, but I’m still happy that I danced with her all night long. She laughed and teased me like we had known each other forever. Now I’m here feeling like I have my own hangover—not from alcohol—from Chyna herself. Hopefully, I’ll get together with her soon since I can’t get her out of my mind. It’s not often that a chick can get her claws into me so quickly.

The last actual relationship I was in went downhill fast, and since then I haven’t had the interest in trying another out. I’ve dated a few women who had made me think about them more than the norm, but they always turned out to be the same. I know the ladies are attracted to my body, and it’ll usually get me a date or two, but if I go out with someone, I’d like them to be interesting and have something to talk about. I also want sex, but it’s not everything to me. I didn’t get the I’m-an-easy-lay vibe from Chyna. And I respect her for it.

I make my way to the small gym I frequent. I have to keep training to be in shape for my next fight. I usually take a little time to relax and recoup between fights, but no taking it easy this time. I’m on a strict schedule and have to get my body extremely conditioned.

The opponent’s skill increases with each fight. I want to be in the best shape of my life when I finally make it to Vegas to fight. The dancing last night, most likely helped keep my muscles from tightening up too badly. The beer definitely didn’t help, but I deserved it after another win.

I was able to soak in a hot Epsom salt bath this morning for about thirty minutes before my shower. It usually helps out with my sore and bruised muscles. I’ll soak in a hot tub later at the gym as well. The heat and ice therapy tonight should kill the soreness quicker and reduce my recovery time.

I have to concentrate and keep my priorities in order; fighting is always first, and then comes anything else. I breeze over everything in my mind as I drive. Doing a mental checklist every morning helps keep me organized. I haven’t always been as organized as I am now; I work extra hard to stay on the path that I’ve planned for my life.

Back in the day, I never would have believed I’d be where I am in my life now. With the road I was on, I could be doing time right about now. Thank God, I saw that poster in the store that day advertising a week free MMA training session at my gym. I thought it would help me become a better criminal. Instead, it opened my eyes to a completely different type of life and goals to set for myself. I haven’t turned back since—just firing ahead and becoming the best I possibly can.

After a short drive, I arrive at the gym and park in my usual spot. I walk across the parking lot, and I’m greeted as soon as I step in the door. Most have seen me here for hours at a time while I train, and I see a lot of familiar faces. I’ve made a few friends, and they’re usually the guys I end up sparing with. We talk fighting, training, and sometimes we have lunch together. It’s refreshing to have friends that have the same goals as mine to eat healthy, train, and become successful, instead of plotting our next robbery or other criminal activity to get money.

I place my plain black bag away in the locker room. It has around fifty small lockers, a few showers, bathroom stalls, sinks, mirrors, everything a guy needs when working out.

I love this gym and the fact that it’s strictly MMA training only. It’s not as packed full as the regular gym next door. I do have a membership to go over there also, if I ever feel the need to work out at crazy hours. They stay open twenty-four hours a day. I’ll occasionally pop over to lift weights if I’m having a rough night sleeping or thinking about my family. I prefer to just go for a run close to my apartment if the weather’s not too hot.

I head over to the jump ropes to start on my warm-ups and nod at a couple of the fighters I’m cool with as I head over toward my trainer, Sin.

“What’s up, man?” I fist-bump my buddy and fellow fighter, Jaxson “Adonis” Barker. Damn pretty boy—Even when he loses a fight, his face never seems to get messed up.

“’Sup Jace—good job last night, man.”

Jaxson sounds drained and looks a little worn out. He’s one of the few guys who actually works out as much as I do. He and I have done a lot of the training classes together and when my buddy Gavin isn’t here, Jaxson and I will partner up if we can.

I grab one of the black jump ropes and set the timer for fifteen minutes with fifteen second breaks. I know it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker, jumping with my tender muscles and fucked-up toe, but I’m going to power through it reminding myself that pain is weakness leaving the body.

“Yeah, thanks. Ford was a little cocky so I had to play with him for a few before I hit him with my right.” Not to mention he’s a fucking prick outside the cage, too. I can’t stand fighters who have no honor and morals outside the cage. The fight is inside, and that’s where it should be kept. We’re all giving it our best try—no need to be a dick.

“Well, you did good man; we were all watching. I actually met a little hottie there. I’m about to go meet her for lunch in a few.” I smirk and shake my head at him—fucking Jaxson and his women.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

He nods and heads to the locker room, “I’ll catch you later, man.”

I give him a chin lift and keep jumping rope, “Cool, take it easy.”