Relentlessly Reckless
Author:Lucy Covington

“Are you going to throw it or what?” Brooklyn demanded.

 

I glanced at her. She was beautiful. She was hot. Maybe she wasn’t Lindsay, but she was damn good looking. And she acted as though she liked to keep things interesting in the bedroom. There were worse ways to spend an evening then with a girl like Brooklyn. And maybe…maybe afterward, I’d be able to sleep.

 

I smiled at Brooklyn and tossed the dart without even looking at where I was throwing it.

 

“You lost on purpose,” she said.

 

“What if I did?” I turned to face her. “Is that bad?”

 

“I don’t know. We still haven’t answered the question about you. When there’s a big moment, can you really come through? Or are you just going to choke?”

 

“Okay, let’s answer it then.” I walked towards her, and she seemed a little taken aback.

 

“What are you doing, Brown?”

 

“You made the best, Brooklyn. Are you scared to go through with it?”

 

“No.” But her eyes were nervous. She looked up at me.

 

“I think you might be. Just a little bit.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“We’ll see.” And then I leaned in and kissed her.

 

We kissed for longer than needed.

 

And then we broke off. Brooklyn’s face was flushed. She smiled. “Damn, you’re a great kisser.”

 

“I think we’ve made our point and now it’s time to go.”

 

“Go where?”

 

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go to your place.”

 

 

 

 

 

LINDSAY

 

 

“Oh my God!” Rachel exclaimed. “It’s Justin!”

 

“What?” We were studying in the library and I turned and looked behind me, my pulse racing, half-expecting to see him walking through the door.

 

“No, not here here,” Rachel said. “Here.” She turned her laptop around and showed me the screen.

 

It was open to a page on Boston.com, and sure enough, there was a picture of Justin. “TWO LOCAL BOYS SET FOR SHOWDOWN,” the headline read.

 

I read the first few lines.

 

“Two local fighters, Justin Brown and Uriah Burns, will take to the cage on Saturday to try and determine which hometown boy will make it to the big-time and a chance at UFF stardom.”

 

I quickly stopped reading. “I don’t care,” I said.

 

Rachel looked at me skeptically. “Really? You don’t care?”

 

“No,” I lied, wishing that is was true—that I really didn’t care.

 

The picture of Justin on the screen was making me yearn for him. I didn’t know where they’d gotten it from, but he had his hands up in a fighting stance, and the look in his eyes was intense and sexy. You could only see him from the waist up, but it was still obvious how completely perfect his body was. The visual I had of him in my mind was enough to keep me on edge -- I didn’t need a picture to remind me.

 

“You do care,” Rachel said. “You care a lot, I bet.”

 

“Care about what?” Adam asked. He’d been studying with us, but had left to go grab us coffees. Now he set them down on the table and slid back into his seat.

 

“Nothing,” I said and gave Rachel a look. It was a look that said “don’t bring this up in front of Adam” but either she didn’t get it, or she just didn’t care.

 

“Justin,” she said. “Apparently he’s going to be in some big fight.”

 

“A fight I don’t care about.” I turned the laptop back toward Rachel, and Adam leaned over and peered at the screen.

 

“Oh, God,” he said. “Please tell me you’re not still hanging out with that douche bag.”

 

“I’m not,” I said.

 

“But she wants to,” Rachel reported.

 

“No, I don’t!”

 

“I wonder if he’s going to win,” Rachel said, wrapping a piece of her hair around her finger in contemplation. “They’re saying it’s a big fight, that Drew Ellis is going to be there and everything.”

 

“Who the hell is Drew Ellis?” Adam asked.

 

“The head of the UFF,” Rachel said.

 

I looked at her, raising my eyebrows. “How do you know all this stuff?”

 

“It’s in the comments!” she said.

 

“You read the comments?”

 

“Yeah, I’m reading them right now.” Her eyes were back on the screen, her fingers on the mouse pad as she scrolled through. “Wow, a lot of girls think Justin’s hot.”

 

Adam shook his head in disgust. “That guy’s not hot. That guy’s a thug. That’s like saying Chris Brown is hot.”

 

“I think Justin’s nice,” Rachel said, her eyes still on the screen. “I think I’m going to go to his fight.”

 

“You are not!” I reached out and grabbed for my coffee, mostly so I’d have something to do with my hands. My body was suddenly filled with nervous energy, and my leg started jittering up and down.

 

“Why not?” Rachel asked, like her going to Justin’s fight was the most normal thing in the world. “I’ve never seen an MMA fight before.”

 

“They’re violent,” I said.

 

“You’ve been?”

 

“No, but I mean, I’ve seen them on TV before.” I didn’t mention that after I met Justin I’d spent a bunch of time watching YouTube clips of UFF fights. It wasn’t an important detail.

 

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