Free Hot and Cold by Paige Notaro Page B

because I couldn’t handle seeing him in action. I liked seeing him block a punch. I liked seeing him land a solid kick. I could even handle seeing him draw blood or take a hit.
    What I couldn’t handle was sitting in the middle of those rowdy, whooping crowds. It felt like entering some third world death match. There were a few other girls around and guards to keep the violence inside the ring, but I just never felt comfortable.
    Still, maybe this detente between us was my fault. I couldn’t date a fighter without ever seeing him fight.
    “Maybe I can come see your next one,” I said.
    “It’s ok.”
    “I’ll bring Jada or Jamal,” I said. “They love the energy. I’ll feel safe with them there.”
    “No,” he said, more firmly. “Don’t do that.”
    “You’re ordering me not to come?”
    “It’s no order. I’m just saying you can’t. The tickets are sold out.”
    “I thought you didn’t know where the next fight will be.”
    He stared at me, not even blinking. “The event hoster has a lineup already, just not a date. It’s big.”
    I had always loved how direct Sean was. He had never lied to me other than a little exaggeration here and there. I hadn’t even been sure he knew how.
    Until now.
    I left him staring at me and went back to my food. It might as well have been rubber now, but I didn’t care. I just needed something to keep my mouth busy. My mind spun with thoughts that I wouldn’t have considered just moments ago.
    If he was willing to keep me from a fight, then anything was possible. Maybe it wasn’t so much our flame burning low. Maybe his heat had just turned elsewhere.
    We finished the meal with nothing exchanged but the scrape of knives on porcelain and the gulps of underchewed food. Sean finished first and started glancing around. I tracked his eyes to see who they landed on. But they flitted around. I could only be certain they didn’t land on me.
    I was more than ready for the bill when I finished. It would take a good gulp of alcohol to wash away the residue of this meal, but I’d rather find it alone.
    Sean called the waiter over, but instead of the bill, he looked at me and said, “Desert?”
    I shook my head, and the waiter left. The dawning migraine in my head dimmed, though. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe Sean just wasn’t that hungry or something. There were dozens of reasons.
    I wasn’t sure whose turn it was to pay, but Sean tossed in his card before I could move. After he signed the bill, we got up and walked right out the patio fence onto the sidewalk. We’d arrived separately, but parked in the same downtown garage.
    “You feel like going to Giuseppe’s and getting something to drink?” I asked, as we turned into the garage. “I’ve been feeling stressed lately. It’d be great to loosen up.”
    “Damn, baby, I’d love to,” he said. “But I’ve actually got to train a bit more.”
    Train a bit more? He never trained at nights.
    I looked back at his face. It’d given me so much pleasure once: pressed against my mouth, warming up other parts of me, or just plain breaking out into a gorgeous smile. Now it was dismissing me as coldly as a knockout ringer at his fights.
    “It’s fine,” I said. “You go do what you need to do.”
    “Cool.” His mouth hung open, but all that came after a few seconds was, “Thanks, baby. I’ll see you.”
    He pecked me on the cheek, then headed off to his own SUV.
    I stood by the mouth of the garage, hearing the winds creak street signs at my back, watching him disappear into the darkness.
    All I could wonder was: Do we still have a real shot at a future?
    Or was it just a question of how long I was willing to let this last.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    “Is that boy taking you the opera or something?”
    “What?” I asked.
    Gina and I were sitting on the couch in the middle of a commercial break. Her hair was up in a bun and she was already in PJs for the day, but I was headed to the movies just as soon as my ride showed