Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
That’s not to say he didn’t land anything. He popped Kage a good one several times. His jabs found their mark repeatedly, and the red spot under Kage’s left eye was proof of that. But every time he tried to land that hard right, which he was known for, Kage blocked and countered with a right of his own. One time it rocked Diaz so hard I thought he was going to go down. I was on my feet waiting for the call, but he didn’t go down all the way to the mat. He staggered around long enough to get his bearings, and Kage just let him.
When Diaz had his legs under him, he came at Kage with renewed vigor, landing a hard kick to the body that I could practically feel through the television.
Kage smiled. Oh, God, I knew that look. He walked into another vicious body kick, and the entire crowd including all of us in the living room yelled out in sympathy.
But my man only smiled again and motioned for Diaz to give him another. Fuck. Self-destructive Kage was in the house. It was scary for me, because I didn’t want to see him get hurt, but I did notice that his mind games were getting to Diaz. It would have to be terrifying to rush in on a guy who was inviting you with a smile.
Kage let him kick him three times, but on the fourth, he grabbed his leg and pulled. Before Diaz knew what was happening, Kage had gotten him in a clench. Diaz struggled, and then Kage pulled a move I’d never seen before.
He grabbed onto Diaz’s left bicep, hopped up onto the guy, slung his right leg over Diaz’s head and flipped upside-down, still hanging onto his right arm. Diaz buckled straight to the mat, and Kage rolled him right over into a brutal armbar submission. The entire move took two seconds. Even the ref didn’t see it coming, and by the time he got to the action, Diaz had already tapped out, Kage was strutting around the Octagon with his hands in the air, and the announcer was screaming, “Oh my lord, did you just see that flying armbar? This fight is over!”
The crowd was on their feet. I was on my feet, screaming, hugging Cameron. Then just when my heartbeat was slowing down, Kage was standing in the center of the ring, looking gorgeous and breathless in his tattoos and biker shorts. His face was a bit of a mess with the red mark and sweat, and his side was red, but he was radiant with his win.
“That was one of the most exciting fights I’ve seen in a long time,” the announcer gushed. “Wow. When did you know you were going to try for that flying armbar?”
Kage smiled. “When he kicked me. That’s when I knew. He f***ing pissed me off.”
I wished they hadn’t bleeped him out. I wanted to hear everything, every syllable.
“The first time he kicked you?” the announcer pressed.
“Yeah,” Kage said.
“Why did you let him kick you two more times? Were you just trying to get your position?”
“Nah.” Kage smiled again and waved at someone trying to get his attention off-camera. “I was just having a little fun.”
The announcer chuckled. “Okay. Well congratulations on your second impressive UFC win. Can’t wait to see more of The Machine.”
Kage nodded at the guy, then turned to the camera for his goodbye. Instead of making a heart sign or peace sign, or crossing his heart Catholic style like so many fighters did, he did something just for me. He tapped two fingers against his forearm, right on my tattoo, then touched those fingers to his lips. It was a quick gesture, done carelessly almost as an afterthought, and he was moving around the ring to hug his entourage and do his walk out through the crowd. But it sure had my heart soaring.
I was stunned, and Cameron was grinning at me. “What?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“That was beyond sexy.” He leaned in close to speak close to my ear. “The hottest fighter on the planet just gave you a secret shout-out on national television.” He pulled back and frowned. “So I don’t understand. Why would he not answer your calls?”
“Hell if I know,” I said, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “But he asked me to trust him. You heard it.”
“And then he did that song for you tonight, and then the tattoo thing. That guy’s got it bad for you.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I felt my face turning red. “But apparently he’s engaged to someone else.”
Four hours later, half the people in the apartment were too drunk to drive, and several couples were making out on our back deck. Cameron and I had stuck pretty close to each other all night. He hadn’t made one overture toward me, which is something I’d worried about when I’d invited him over.