Worth the fight

It’s adorable. 
    I think he assesses my sincerity.  Then he nods his head once and continues.  “I’ll make you one.  Nico will be all over his chick wearing a picture of him.”
    We all laugh at Vinny’s comment, but I can’t help but think the boy is right.  Nico would so love me wearing a picture of him across my chest to ward off the other lions when he’s not around.  He’s a smart kid, knows Nico well.
    Vinny and my s tepbrother become instant friends and I’m glad that it gives me some time to get to know Lily better before the fight starts.  Plus, the boys will have more fun without me sitting between them and cringing at every blow.
    I don’t even realize that I’m fidgeting in my seat, but Lily does.  “You nervous?”  She smiles at me.  It’s a genuine smile and I get the feeling she finds my inability to sit still amusing for some reason.
    “Is it that obvious?”
    “Well, I figured it was either that or you have to go to the bathroom pretty bad with the way that leg’s shaking.”  She motions with her head pointing to my leg , which is frantically tapping up and down.  I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.  I smile at her and will my leg to steady.
    “Fighting has never been my thing.”  It’s the understatement of the year. 
    “Well, don’t worry then.”  She pauses and sits up taller in her chair, a silent declaration of the confidence in her next words.  “This isn’t going to last more than thirty seconds.  Nico can take this clown with one arm tied behind his back.”
    ***
    It’s almost a full hour later before the opponents are called into the cage.  I’ve sat through girls in skimpy bikinis holding up advertising signs, commentators giving their predictions on the fight, and Max and Vinny have each downed three hot dogs.  Lily and Joe try to get me to have a beer with them.  I know they’re trying to help, get me to relax a little.  But I’m aware of the effect alcohol has on my emotional state and I’m way too afraid to lose any control.  I’m about to watch the man I’m crazy about do things that I’m nervous will dredge up bad memories.  Memories I can’t allow myself to associate with Nico Hunter.
     
    ***
     
    “Ladies and Gentlemen, in the red corner, standing six-foot-three-inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-one pounds, he is the former heavyweight champion, he needs no introduction to the ladies…I give you Nico ‘The Laaaaaaaadddyy Killlllllllllllllllller’ Hunter.”  The crowd goes crazy, but not half as crazy as Vinny, who is jumping up and down and screaming so loud I can see the veins popping from the sides of his neck.  Lily looks at me, then at Vinny, and then back to me and we both laugh, but no one can hear us standing next to Nico’s number one fan.  
    Nico’s opponent is introduced and he receives only a fraction of the cheers, plus some actually boo for the poor guy.  Mostly Vinny and my stepbrother.  The announcer goes through a bunch of rules and rattles off some information about disciplines, none of which means much to me.  I make a mental note to learn more about the sport and file it away for my next afternoon alone with Google. 
    The two me n turn to make their way to their respective corners and Nico is facing the crowd for the first time since he entered the arena.  He is undeniably a feast for the eyes, every woman’s fantasy.  He’s tall and gorgeous with a square jaw and eyes the color of jade.  And his body, oh his body.  I could get lost in the valleys that define his muscles.  But I’m not the only one to notice.  Women yell and catcall to him like construction workers when a miniskirt passes by in the heat of summer.    Nico either doesn’t care or he’s so focused he won’t let outside interference in.  I figure he’s probably an expert at drowning out the crowd.  But then he turns his head and his eyes find mine instantly through the crowd.  And hold.  There’s probably ten thousand screaming people in the room, but for a few quick seconds, there’s only me and Nico.  He doesn’t smile or acknowledge me outwardly, but he wants to know I’m here.  Watching him.  Supporting him.  And I finally realize, even with my past, there’s no place I’d rather be.
    The first round is only five minutes long, but it feels more like five hours.  I quickly learn it’s a lot more difficult to watch a fight when it’s someone you care about inside the