fight had been ridiculous. If Nick was the prince charming of MMA, with his good looks and squeaky clean reputation, Big Ugly was a fitting anti-hero. The British-born fighter was large and brutish with a cruel face and a body covered with tattoos. His career had been more inconsistent, with stunning losses and even more stunning comebacks. But he was considered one of the best pound-for-pound fighters and the best grappler the sport had ever seen.
“No one stays undefeated forever,” Nick said in an even voice.
The other guys looked at him in disbelief. Those were not the words they were expecting from their champion. This fight was crucial, possibly the most important one of Nick’s career. This was his first title fight with his new camp, so it wasn’t just his reputation on the line.
“You shouldn’t entertain such defeatist thoughts, Nick,” Joe said with a worried frown. “We’re working our asses off right alongside you because we believe in your chances.”
“But it’s true, I’m gonna lose eventually.” He looked at Joe and the other men who had sweated and bled just as much as he had in the last five weeks and would continue to do so in the three remaining weeks of training camp. “But not to him. Not to Big Ugly.”
It took a lot to thrive in this brutal sport. There was absolutely no room for self-doubt. You either believed you’re better than the man you were going into the cage with or you might as well throw in the towel. Nick had been telling himself he was the best from the get go, even back when he didn’t have anything to show for it. He kept telling himself he was the best until he believed it, until he started acting like it, and until other people believed it, too.
“Come fight night, I will step inside that octagon and Big Ugly’s gonna be just another victim.” He flashed them a smile of pure smugness. “I got this.”
Joe nodded, satisfied, then fixed Nick with a stern look. “No more distractions,” he said meaningfully.
Nick didn’t even pretend not to know what or who he meant. One corner of his lips turned up in a sheepish smile. “I got this,” he repeated, this time a touch uncertain. The truth was, he’d never been more off-balanced about a girl before—and in the middle of fuckin’ training camp at that! No two ways about it, Rose was bound to be his undoing. Now why in hell didn’t that thought fill him with dread?
CHAPTER 12
“What’s wrong with you?” Paolo said, nodding to a girl who’d been trying to catch Nick’s eye as she shimmied on the dance floor with her girlfriends. “She’s so hot for you. That’s a sure thing right there.”
They were celebrating Angelo’s 24th birthday in a hip new club that was admittedly full of gorgeous women. Many were throwing interested glances at their group. Most of the guys had already taken their pick and were tearing it up on the dance floor while Nick hung back on the L-shaped couch in the club’s VIP section. His brothers and his teammate Rafael, who were taking a break from dancing or trying to pick up women—or who knew what else they’d been up to—sat with him. Normally, this was the kind of thing he’d be into on a Friday night even in the middle of training camp.
He loved women, plain and simple. He loved how they looked and how they smelled. He loved flirting with them and watching them light up from his attentions. He loved it when they fawned over him and babied him. Mostly, he got off on rocking a woman’s world so good and knowing that no other man would come close to being good enough. Maybe it was an ego thing. Either way, Nick treated women like queens, whether it was his own mother, a waitress paid to wait on him, someone he was chatting up in a bar, or someone he was dating—especially someone he was dating. He liked laying on the charm thick, but he wasn’t exactly some playboy womanizer who refused to be tied down to one woman. He would’ve been perfectly fine
“No one stays undefeated forever,” Nick said in an even voice.
The other guys looked at him in disbelief. Those were not the words they were expecting from their champion. This fight was crucial, possibly the most important one of Nick’s career. This was his first title fight with his new camp, so it wasn’t just his reputation on the line.
“You shouldn’t entertain such defeatist thoughts, Nick,” Joe said with a worried frown. “We’re working our asses off right alongside you because we believe in your chances.”
“But it’s true, I’m gonna lose eventually.” He looked at Joe and the other men who had sweated and bled just as much as he had in the last five weeks and would continue to do so in the three remaining weeks of training camp. “But not to him. Not to Big Ugly.”
It took a lot to thrive in this brutal sport. There was absolutely no room for self-doubt. You either believed you’re better than the man you were going into the cage with or you might as well throw in the towel. Nick had been telling himself he was the best from the get go, even back when he didn’t have anything to show for it. He kept telling himself he was the best until he believed it, until he started acting like it, and until other people believed it, too.
“Come fight night, I will step inside that octagon and Big Ugly’s gonna be just another victim.” He flashed them a smile of pure smugness. “I got this.”
Joe nodded, satisfied, then fixed Nick with a stern look. “No more distractions,” he said meaningfully.
Nick didn’t even pretend not to know what or who he meant. One corner of his lips turned up in a sheepish smile. “I got this,” he repeated, this time a touch uncertain. The truth was, he’d never been more off-balanced about a girl before—and in the middle of fuckin’ training camp at that! No two ways about it, Rose was bound to be his undoing. Now why in hell didn’t that thought fill him with dread?
CHAPTER 12
“What’s wrong with you?” Paolo said, nodding to a girl who’d been trying to catch Nick’s eye as she shimmied on the dance floor with her girlfriends. “She’s so hot for you. That’s a sure thing right there.”
They were celebrating Angelo’s 24th birthday in a hip new club that was admittedly full of gorgeous women. Many were throwing interested glances at their group. Most of the guys had already taken their pick and were tearing it up on the dance floor while Nick hung back on the L-shaped couch in the club’s VIP section. His brothers and his teammate Rafael, who were taking a break from dancing or trying to pick up women—or who knew what else they’d been up to—sat with him. Normally, this was the kind of thing he’d be into on a Friday night even in the middle of training camp.
He loved women, plain and simple. He loved how they looked and how they smelled. He loved flirting with them and watching them light up from his attentions. He loved it when they fawned over him and babied him. Mostly, he got off on rocking a woman’s world so good and knowing that no other man would come close to being good enough. Maybe it was an ego thing. Either way, Nick treated women like queens, whether it was his own mother, a waitress paid to wait on him, someone he was chatting up in a bar, or someone he was dating—especially someone he was dating. He liked laying on the charm thick, but he wasn’t exactly some playboy womanizer who refused to be tied down to one woman. He would’ve been perfectly fine
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