Who was she kidding? She could burn down the entire house, and just seeing a couch would still trigger thoughts of their first real kiss, and of where he’d shown her how much he’d wanted her, and of him taking her for the first time bent over the arm of it, or of how he’d tug her down to lie beside him after a long day.
The most needed piece of furniture in a home—a constant reminder.
Even her dog, who also seemed to be grieving, reminded her of him.
Lucy moped around the house, sending Julie accusing looks, as if she’d been the one to send her best friend away.
And she had.
Sighing, she returned to the microwave when it beeped. As she poured the popped kernels into a bowl, a knock came on the door.
“It’s unlocked,” she called. “Come on in.”
A few seconds later, Brody appeared in the kitchen doorway. “You really shouldn’t do that, you know.”
“I knew it was you by the way you knocked.” She frowned. “Why are you wet?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “It’s raining.”
She listened, and sure enough she heard drops hitting the roof. Funny how she hadn’t heard that before. Only the silence in the house.
Brody studied her. “You okay?”
She sent him a strained smile. “Wonderful.”
“We don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah. I do, actually.” She passed him the popcorn. Brody had forgone going down to the arena with his team to instead curl up on the couch here with her. Even though she tried to convince him she’d be fine, he’d refused to leave her alone tonight.
Tommy would be fighting any minute. Here in Georgia. And she wouldn’t be there.
She’d missed his fights in the past, but now she knew she’d never be ringside again. God, why did that hurt so badly?
Brody sat on the couch while Julie grabbed the TV remote and turned it on. She normally didn’t miss a fight in the lineup, but tonight she hadn’t had it in her to watch the hours of matches preceding the main event. As it was, both men were already in the cage as the announcer introduced the headline fighters. Tommy and Ricky Moon.
She couldn’t tear her eyes off of Tommy. Black and teal boxing shorts rode low on his hips, and his chest was bare. He had his gloved hands resting on his hips as he slowly scanned the arena.
What was going through his head right now?
Was he worried? Energized? Normally, she could tell, but not tonight. He just kept looking.
Then it hit her. It was the deafening roar of the stadium. The chanting of his name she could hear among the screams of Moon’s fans. It had to be a special moment for him.
No matter how things had ended with them, pride expanded her chest. He’d worked so hard for this return—so deserved this moment.
“How much of a chance does he have?” she asked.
“From what I’ve heard, a pretty damn good one. A lot of it will depend on if Moon takes control in the beginning.”
“I want him to win, Brody. I really do.”
Brody leaned forward and grasped her hand. “I know you do. You never would’ve gone after him, convinced him not to cancel, if you didn’t.”
She squeezed his hand as she turned her attention back to the TV. Tommy and Moon tapped gloves, signaling the start of the fight.
As the men circled each other, a vise tightened on Julie’s chest, making it difficult to breathe.
She took a shaky inhale, trying to calm the nerves attacking her body. Releasing Brody’s hand, she settled on the couch with her feet tucked up under her, and pressed her laced fingers to her mouth, muttering, “Please. Please. Please.”
Moon wasted no time charging Tommy, grabbing him around the waist and driving him into the cage. Moon landed multiple body shots. Each fist that hit Tommy’s torso made her body tenser, until she felt as though she’d explode from the pressure.
Brody sat forward, a vehement “Shit” spewing from his mouth.
Shit was right. Moon had taken control and had Tommy against the cage within seconds—the exact same way he’d beaten him the first time.
“He’s got to get out of the clinch!” She shifted on the couch until she was perched on her knees. “Get out of the clinch, Tommy!”
When Moon grabbed the back of Tommy’s head and yanked it down to meet his knee, Julie screamed, “No!”
It was like watching history repeat itself. At any moment, Tommy would crumble. The match would be lost. And his chance at reclaiming his title would be gone for good.
But unlike before, the knee to the face didn’t take him down. Tommy came up with an uppercut and caught Moon square on the chin. His opponent stumbled back, and Tommy straightened, chest puffed out. He advanced, not giving Moon a moment to recover, landing punch after punch.
Brody was on his feet, yelling at the TV. Julie was standing on the couch, jumping up and down. “Come on, baby. Come on!”
Now Tommy had Moon up against the cage with relentless jabs, making continuous connections with his sides and head. All Moon could do was bend over and protect his chin with his gloved hands. One blow to the temple stunned Moon and his hands dropped down a few inches, exposing his chin. Tommy brought his arm back, and with one right hand, Moon was on the mat, the umpire covering him, waving his hand.