In the Ring by Sierra Isley

Author:Sierra Isley [Isley, Sierra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Little Press
Published: 2023-09-14T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The booming sound of Nirvana’s Come as You Are playing through my iPhone startles me awake. Across the room, Sofía springs up from her bed. She glares in my direction.

“Can you turn that damn thing off?”

“Sorry,” I say, blindly pressing buttons on my phone until the music stops.

My head is throbbing. I fell asleep before Sofía came back, but judging by her loud yawn, that wasn’t until the early morning. Forcing myself out of my cocoon of blankets, I saunter to the bathroom. The reflection that greets me is less than attractive. A few red pimples line the bottom of my chin. My hair is a frizzy, uncontrollable mess. I throw it into a ponytail.

Sofía’s already dressed in a matching pair of purple sweatpants and a crop top by the time I step out of the bathroom. I slip into a pair of gray athletic shorts. Even though I’m sure I’ll sweat it off throughout the day, I cover up my chin with a layer of concealer.

“How was your night?” I ask as we leave the dingy room.

She smirks. “Your boyfriend was a lot of fun. Bought us all shots.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

She ignores me. We get into the elevator with a man who’s totally a professional bodybuilder. His biceps are the size of my head. I’m suddenly grateful that I’m not competing today.

Elliott is bouncing back and forth on his toes when he notices Sofía and I enter the lobby. He smiles his lopsided grin and I return the favor. Andre brushes past me with a box of donuts sent straight from heaven.

“Take your pick, and then we’re headed out.”

I grab one with pink icing and sprinkles. Elliott takes two, biting back and forth between them.

“You’ve got icing on your face,” he states, brushing his finger against the corner of my lips.

A tiny bit of pink comes off my skin. Elliott licks the icing off of his finger. I watch him closely, heartbeat racing.

“I heard you were the life of the party last night,” I say.

He winks. “You should’ve been there. I’m tons of fun.”

“No fake ID, remember?”

“We’ll have to fix that when we get home.”

We. The word rolls off his tongue with ease.

Andre piles us into the shuttle bus outside. A few others from the hotel join, including the gigantic man from the elevator. Fortunately, the rest of his team isn’t quite as intimidating. Despite its old architecture, the city feels young in the morning sunlight. The convention center, with its gray stone exterior, looks more like a medieval castle than an event venue.

We huddle outside the entrance. Andre passes out copies of the schedule. Over twenty teams are listed to compete over the next two days.

“The rounds are split between men and women,” he explains. “The last few matches of today will determine who competes in the finals tomorrow.”

The first bout is scheduled to begin in a little over an hour. Midtown Ring is listed first to compete in the men’s category. Andre volunteers without any opposition from the rest of the group.

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