As he walked away, Cannon heard Mac say, “I don’t need your pity, damn you! Tell him I don’t need his, either. Tell him—”
Cannon stopped listening. He couldn’t tell Armie anything he didn’t already know.
* * *
THERE IN THE AUDIENCE, front row, sitting with their group, Merissa stared toward him. Beside her, Bray squirreled around in his seat as he cheered.
“Not the time,” Simon snarled.
Right. He bounced on the balls of his feet, his muscles warm and loose. Music blared, bright lights burned down on him and already sweat beaded out of every pore.
Again he looked at Merissa.
“Jesus,” Simon said. “Now you’re smiling? At least the camera loves you.”
Armie glanced at the Jumbotron and sure enough, his face filled the massive screen. Hamming it up and making Simon happy, Armie put a fist in the air.
The audience roared.
Carter Fletcher walked in to a hard rock song. Some of those cheers were for him. Well deserved, Armie knew.
Cannon, Simon and Havoc were all telling him different things, doing different things.
Armie just wanted out there.
This was how he felt when fighting. Anticipation. Joy. He’d never thought to feel this at the SBC level, but other than how he felt for Rissy now, it was all the same.
This was his zone. A part of who he was.
Cannon said something to him and he nodded, his gaze glued to Carter.
They called a start to the fight. Rules were read and agreed to. He and Carter were both ready.
Armie touched fists with Chaos and they both began the dance.
They exchanged blows and a few kicks, but Armie was timing himself, waiting for an opening. When Carter threw a kick, Armie caught his leg, tucked his ankle into his armpit, and put pressure on the inside of his knee so that Carter went down.
They both scrambled, but Armie hit him once, twice, throwing all his strength behind the punches. Methodical. Fast.
When Chaos shifted, going for a submission, Armie’s instinct was to stand back and let him up. But in the back of his mind he remembered what Dakota had told him. Yeah, that was probably the move Chaos expected.
Instead, Armie shifted with him. They rolled, and Armie came up in the dominant position again. He threw an elbow that caught Carter just beneath the brow bone.
A few more blows and Armie had the full mount, free to rain down heavy hits. A cut on Carter’s eyelid made a slippery mess that looked a hell of a lot worse than it was. The ref hovered over them, ready to call a halt.
Carter said, “I’m okay,” and rather than cover up, he threw his own punches, leaving his face open to more punishment.
Armie landed yet another elbow, one more—
Suddenly the ref tackled him, saying, “It’s over, it’s over.”
The arena went nuts.
Fists in the air, Armie grinned—for about two seconds before Cannon had him half lifted in the air. Havoc and Simon were there, laughing, clapping him on the back.
The audience stayed on their feet, the cheers nearly deafening.
Bloodied but far from done, Carter sat up cursing, but only for a second. Like any professional he pushed to his feet and allowed the doctors to clear away the blood.
Lights went off in a strobe effect but Armie still found Rissy in the audience. She had her uninjured arm in the air as she shouted her happiness. Bray jumped up and down like a wild monkey.
All in all, it was pretty damned great.
When things finally settled down he went over to talk to Carter, who embraced him. “We need to do this again.”
Armie nodded. “Anytime.” He lifted Carter’s arm and the audience went crazy all over again.
Cannon dragged a shirt over his head and Armie remembered he was supposed to be touting Jude’s sports gear. Showing off the shirt, he mugged for the cameras until the commentator pulled him front and center.
At first they talked about the fight—and Armie gave Dakota her due, which made Carter pretend to collapse on the mat. Everyone cracked up over that.
“Seriously,” Armie said. “She knows what she’s talking about.”
Simon put his head in his hands, but he was laughing, too.
“Mostly, I’ve got great coaches and a best friend who kept me in line and got me ready. A man is only as good as his team.”
There were more cheers for that sentiment.
Lastly the commentator asked, “So what’s next?”
Armie grinned. “Well, I’m hoping to marry Saint’s little sis.”
The commentator blinked at him. “What’s this? Marriage?”
“She asked and I said yes.”
The camera switched to Rissy. Eyes damp and one hand over her mouth, she nodded.
Going with it, the commentator asked, “What does Saint have to say about this?”
As Cannon bounded into the cage, the audience loved it—because they loved him.
When Cannon reached Armie, he put his fists up. Laughing, Armie pretended to duck—then Cannon pulled him into a bear hug.
“So you approve?” the commentator asked him.
“Hell, yeah.” His arm draped over Armie’s shoulders, Cannon grinned. “I want my sister to have the best. That’s Armie.”
Armie smiled toward Rissy.
“He’s always been my brother,” Cannon said. “Now it’ll finally be legit.”
* * *
CURLED IN BED, which happened to be Armie’s favorite location with Rissy, they talked about the exclusive he’d be giving tomorrow, which Jude had arranged. What really surprised Armie was finding out that the reporter had received testimonials from the guys at the rec center, from Bray and his parents, from Kizzie and some of the other women.
And even from Lea herself.
Half the neighborhood had wanted it known that he was a good guy. He hadn’t realized his heart could hold so much love and appreciation, but damn, he liked it.
Finally, once and for all, the rumors would be destroyed.
After that, they’d segued into wedding plans. Armie couldn’t wait to have her tied to him, but he wanted her to have whatever type of wedding she wanted—be it simple or elaborate, large or small.
While she went over her preferences, she seemed to inspect every inch of him, finding marks from his fight that he hadn’t been aware of. He didn’t complain. Rissy’s attention was always a turn-on. He just wasn’t sure how much more he could take before tucking her under him and making them both nuts with release.
“So you don’t mind if we keep it just our family and friends?”
He didn’t have family—except that the guys at the gym were all that and more, better than any blood tie could ever be. “Whatever you want is okay by me.”
“So agreeable.” She kissed a bruise on his cheekbone. “You looked so handsome in your tux at Cannon’s wedding. Would you mind wearing one for ours?” She wrinkled her nose. “I sort of want the fancy white dress.”
“You will be killer-hot in a fancy white dress and I can rock a tux again, no problem.” He’d do anything for her, except let her go.
Next she kissed his ribs. “I don’t want to assume, but Cannon will be your best man?”
“He’s been that since we were in high school, so yeah.”
That made her happy and she smiled as she teased her lips over a spot on his abdomen. “Shouldn’t we put something on this?”