Going the Distance Read Free Page A

his legs around Rich’s waist and shift them to their sides, but the effort looked desperate. Rich took a sharp hook to the temple, unfazed.
    An air horn blasted to end the round, and Rich was on his feet. Higgins wasn’t quite so quick to rise, and Rich wasn’t as courteous as some of the earlier fighters—he didn’t offer his opponent a hand up. Both made it back to their corners. Through the fence, Lindsey watched Mercer swab Rich’s now bleeding temple with some kind of goo, another guy forcing a water bottle to his lips.
    Her heart thudded so hard she felt high. She wished she were right there, close enough to smell him and see whatever fearsome energy was shining in his dark eyes.
    The ring girl did her prancy thing, then the round began. The men swapped punches and kicks. Lindsey hadn’t even taken two breaths and whack! A stunningly hard hook from Rich and Higgins went to all fours. Rich followed, ready to grapple, but an official stepped in and forced him away. There seemed to be a short window of time during which everyone waited for Higgins to make it to his feet, but it didn’t happen. He dropped his forehead to the mat between his elbows, body shifting uneasily from side to side, and suddenly—
    â€œA stoppage has been called, due to a technical knockout.” The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and boos. Rich was corralled to the center by the ref, and once his opponent was helped to standing—
    â€œThe winner—Rich Es-s-strada!”
    His arm was raised, and Lindsey shrieked like a banshee. Jenna caught up, looking confused but thrilled, having missed the single punch that had ended the round inside fifteen seconds. The earlier shot Rich had taken must have been worse than it had looked. A thin ribbon of red trailed from his temple down to his jaw. The announcer held the mike between them and asked, “How does it feel, earning your first championship title?”
    Between panting breaths, Rich answered, “Overdue.”
    â€œGood fight?”
    â€œIf I ever get another match with Higgins, I want a scrap next time, not a slow dance.”
    This was met with major heckling from the Trucker fans.
    â€œAny other words?”
    He put his hands on his hips, chest still heaving. “Thank you, Merce, all you guys. Thank you, Mamá. Thank you, Diana. And thank you, Monty, wherever you wound up.” He gave a little heavenward salute and walked away from the mike.
    As Rich stepped down from the raised ring, Mercer greeted him with a beaming smile that seemed to ask, “What took you so long?” They shared a manly, brusque hug before a medical guy tidied Rich’s cut. Rich led the way back up the aisle, his corner following. Lindsey’s gaze caught on his back muscles, gleaming under the stark spotlight.
    â€œWow,” she said, relaxing back in her seat.
    â€œIf only all fights were that efficient.” Jenna frowned. “Except that would mean every fight ended with someone getting really badly hurt.”
    â€œStill. What a way to kick off your career.” In a few months, Lindsey could be shelling out a small fortune to watch Rich fight on pay-per-view. The thought was enlivening, except...
    Something soured her stomach. Rich wouldn’t be around much longer. Mercer had said he needed new guys to fight, more opponents in his weight class and at his level. He’d be off to a training camp, who knew where.
    She’d miss Rich’s ego-stroking flirtation, but it had been nice while it lasted. Exciting, without any messy romantic fallout. A crush. Someone to get secretly nervous about seeing, to put on eyeshadow for, without actually having to do any of the work of an actual relationship. Then again, also without getting to enjoy any of the perks, such as three rounds with Rich’s body in the ring better known as her bed.
    As if she’d have had the first clue what to do with him if she got the chance.
    With