Mia
I could teach kids to dance all day and not have a moment of anxiety, but put me in a room of adult students, and I was nervous as hell.
Friday night, I stood in front of my adults-only class and channeled my mother, knowing I would need it as the youngest chick in the room.
“I don’t know what your reasons are for taking this particular class, and to be honest, I don’t want to know. The goal is to relax, have fun, and find the confidence in yourself to unleash your inner sex goddess.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder, already annoyed with it. But for this class, it was one of the props that had to be incorporated, so I couldn’t pull it into the bun I was itching to.
Cora had started a new, adults-only class and put me in charge of it—probably to see if I had the guts to do it or not.
Because this wasn’t a typical dance class.
It was a pole dancing class.
To teach women to become more confident in their bodies while getting a workout. At least that was what the flyer said when I’d seen it posted on the board in the lobby out front where parents were allowed to wait for their kids.
For the first class, there was a staggeringly good turnout. Every pole that had been set up earlier that evening was taken by women ranging in age from early twenties to late forties. Every single one of them had a different body type, and I liked seeing the diversity in the room.
Some of the older women looked shy and embarrassed, while a group of three younger women was snickering in the back corner like the mean girls I could already tell they were.
I adjusted the Lycra shorts I was wearing and the matching sports bra, wishing I could have worn the simple black leotard I normally wore for my littles’ classes.
“I want you all to relax and enjoy yourselves in here. This is a safe place, and no one…” My gaze went to the three in the back, still giggling. Each of them was dressed like Hooker Barbie, but I wasn’t going to call them out on their G-string and Band-Aid-sized tops that barely covered their nipples. I meant it when I said this was a safe place—even for them. “No one will make you feel like you don’t belong here.”
That seemed to relax the majority of the women and got the mean girls to stop giggling. For the next thirty minutes, I went over the basics, and five minutes before class was over, they were all getting comfortable with the poles.
Excusing everyone, I grabbed my bag and pulled out the sweatshirt I’d put in there before class. My SoCal constitution wasn’t used to the cooler temperatures of the late evenings in NoVa.
As I walked out of the building, I was already pulling my hair into a knot on top of my head.
A horn honking had me turning to see what was going on, only to find a town car mere feet away. The back window rolled down, and Lyla stuck her head out. “Let’s go, sexy!”
Frowning, I walked over to the car and slid in beside her. “What’s going on?” I asked as I finished securing my hair with a scrunchie.
“Underground fight tonight.” She scanned her eyes over me, shaking her head. “Maybe I should have brought you a change of clothes.”
“There’s no time to change?” I glanced down at the shorts that barely covered my ass. At least my sweatshirt covered my middle, but I felt exposed. I’d seen other people wearing less than what I had on at the Underground earlier in the week, but I wasn’t a fan of showing off this much skin.
“Nope. This one’s a little farther out of the way than the one Tuesday. As it is, we’re already going to be late.” She gave me one more appraisal and shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll take care of it. Barrick won’t lose his mind…I hope.” The last part was muttered half under her breath.
Laughing, I shook my head. Figuring I needed to check in with my mom before I went into the Underground, I texted her the entire ride, which lasted over half an hour. Momma was still in Seattle, and she was royally pissed about it because she was missing my brother’s second day of filming as a guest judge on some music show.
As much as she worked, Momma rarely ever had missed important events in our lives. I pitied whoever was causing her to miss out on this with Jagger. No doubt she was making them wish they’d never been born.
The driver pulled up in front of a warehouse similar to the one from Tuesday night, but this one was a little bigger from the looks of it. Definitely a lot more people, that was for sure.
I wasn’t surprised when someone opened the door for us, but I was surprised to see it was Braxton. I took his hand as he assisted me out, and his dark eyes, so much like his cousin’s, scanned me from head to toe.
“Yeah, you’re right. He’s going to lose his damn mind.” Shaking his head, he glared at Lyla. “Why didn’t you think of this before you brought her?”
“Um, because I didn’t think, period. She normally wears these cute little ballet things.” She waved a hand at my bare legs. “I wasn’t expecting a sexy vixen when I picked her up.”
“What’s the big deal?” I demanded. “I have more clothes on than half the other chicks here. Yes, I feel a little exposed, but it’s fine.”
Braxton clenched his jaw. “We have to get you some jeans or a skirt, something. Barrick will kill someone.”
That only had me laughing again. “It’s none of Barrick’s business if I show up here naked. Which I’m not. I have on clothes, damn it.”
“Howler probably has some sweats in his bag,” Lyla suggested.
“His left leg is bigger than her. They would fall off her even if we tied them in knots.” Braxton blew out a frustrated breath and glanced around. “You! Come here.”
I was so used to him being laid-back and all smiles, the command in his tone made me jump slightly. But a girl in the group behind us melted away from her friends and walked over to us with a dreamy look on her face. Dressed in skinny jeans and a long, baby-doll style top, she looked cute in her outfit but not sexy.
“Hi, Braxton,” she purred as she wrapped her arms around one of his and clung to him.
“You got panties on under there?” he demanded, and the girl actually started panting.
“Yeah, baby. Why? You want to see them?”
I wanted to roll my eyes and make a gagging sound, but Braxton only shook her off his arm. “I need your jeans.” Pulling out his wallet, he produced two hundred-dollar bills. “Now.”
My eyes widened. Her jeans weren’t even worth a quarter of that by the looks of them. “What are you doing?” I hissed at him. “You can’t buy some chick’s jeans for me. That’s ridiculous.”
“Barrick will pay me back,” he excused, waving the money in the girl’s face. “We got a deal or not?”
“Um…” She glanced between Braxton and me, then straight at Lyla, who took a menacing step toward her when she didn’t answer quickly enough. “Deal,” she squeaked, snatching the money out of his hand and then kicking off her shoes long enough to take her jeans off right there.
I cringed as she got catcalls and whistles from guys standing close by. I moved to shield her, giving her some privacy, but she actually seemed to eat up the attention.
Shoving the jeans in my direction, she folded her money and tucked it into her shirt before bouncing back to her friends.
“Hurry and put them on,” Lyla ordered. “We need to get you covered. Now.”
Sighing, I toed off my street shoes and then pulled on the jeans. They were a size too big, but they would do. My two friends seemed to breathe a little easier as soon as I started zipping them up.
Bending, I pulled my Converse back on, and when I straightened, I glared at them. “Happy?”
“Immensely,” Braxton said with a nod. “Now, let’s go. The fight is about to start.”
Putting his hand on my back, he guided me through the crowd that had now begun to scream. Apparently the first fighter was already out.
“Is Barrick fighting?” I wasn’t sure I could stomach watching him fight again.
“No. He’s the ref tonight,” he answered distractedly as we moved toward a roped-off area close to the cage.
“Really? I didn’t know he did that too.”
Braxton shrugged. “Sometimes they have to get another fighter to ref if the official doesn’t feel safe in the cage.”
“And the official doesn’t with tonight’s match?”
“Definitely not,” was all he said as he lifted the rope and waited for both Lyla and me to take our places.
I looked at the metal cage, and my gaze latched on to Barrick, who was already standing there grinning at me. I waved and he winked, making my heart do this crazy little jump in my chest.
I hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped me off Wednesday night, but he’d texted me the night before and earlier in the day. He hadn’t mentioned an Underground match tonight, though, making me wonder if these fights weren’t announced until the last minute.
Dressed in tight workout shorts and a black-and-white striped referee shirt, he looked massive up there compared to the fighter behind him. The other guy was leaner, but not by much, and maybe an inch or so shorter. I barely noticed him, though, as Barrick flashed me that damn dimple, making me forget about anything but him.
“And now…” The announcer’s voice filled the entire building, stopping all chatter as every eye was suddenly on the spotlight shining on the door I assumed led to a locker room. “The man we’ve all been waiting to see pulverize tonight. Howl-errr.”
The crowd actually started howling as one, like a pack of wolves in sync with one another. Beside me, Lyla was the loudest of them all, grinning, her eyes shining with pride as Howler came out.
Wearing only a pair of workout shorts that were molded to his thighs and hips, no shirt, and his knuckles taped, he looked like some blond fighting god. His face was impassive as he walked through the parted crowd, his eyes narrowed on his opponent in the ring.
“Don’t freak out, okay?” Braxton urged close to my ear. “If you get scared or anything upsets you, let me know. I’ll get you out of here.”
I didn’t understand what could be so upsetting, but I nodded. The only reason the last fight had been so hard to watch was because it had been Barrick getting pounding on.
The cage door opened, Howler stepped inside, and it became obvious why an actual official would be worried about their safety with the two fighters currently in the ring.
Barrick grabbed Howler around the waist, holding him back when he would have attacked the other guy, who was already running his mouth. Slinging him back with force, Barrick stayed between them, putting his hands out to warn them to keep back.
“This will stay a clean fight, or I’ll beat the fuck out of you both,” he snarled at them. “Do I make myself clear?”
The two men nodded, but I wondered how long they would follow the rules.
Barely two minutes in and both fighters were bleeding. The longer the match went on, the bloodier it got, and while I was having trouble watching, Lyla couldn’t take her eyes off Howler.
The other fighter, Chains, went to sucker-punch Howler, but he ducked at the last minute. The blow landed on Barrick, and he stumbled back. I gasped when I saw his mouth was bleeding.
“He’s okay,” Braxton soothed. “Nothing he can’t handle.”
I only nodded, my eyes glued to Barrick, unable to look away as he shoved Chains back, yelling at him to keep it clean.
For the next half hour, things only escalated more and more. There was no bell to ring to announce the end of each round because there were none. I didn’t understand the rules, but it was exhausting to watch two people beat the hell out of each other.
“Howler, knock his ass out, or I’m never going to talk to you again!” Lyla shouted when the two were pounding on each other close to our side of the cage.
His dark-blond head snapped up, his eyes going straight to her like he had some radar that told him exactly where she was. Something passed over his bloodied face, and he gave a single, firm nod.
“Knock him out, or kill him?” Braxton grunted at his cousin.
She shrugged without concern. “I don’t really care one way or the other. I fucking hate Chains.”
It took another few minutes, but then Chains was on the floor of the cage, knocked out cold. Barrick rushed to check the guy, making sure he was only unconscious and not actually dead as I feared.
A count of ten and then the announcer was proclaiming Howler the winner, while Barrick held his arm in the air.
“What took you so long?” Lyla yelled toward the cage, and Howler scowled at her before grinning.
I shook my head, not understanding the two of them in the least. It was too much of a headache even to try.