Chapter Two

AVA

T he 4:00AM alarm on my phone jolted me awake the next morning. My groan echoed in the bedroom of the extended stay suite as I reached out to shut the annoying noise off. I had a gym date with Ryder at this ungodly hour of the morning.

Once the alarm was silenced, I rolled out of the bed and staggered into the bathroom to wake myself with a hot shower. The water temperature had the opposite effect and made me want to get right back into those warm covers and go to sleep.

I forced myself to ignore the allure of the bed and go to the dresser instead. I reached for a folded sweater and stopped myself. Would it be out of place to show up at Warrior's Den, all suited up for business well before business hours?

I pushed the sweater aside and reached for workout clothes instead. After shimmying into the spandex, I threw on a fleece hoodie and laced up my running shoes to head to my rental car in the hotel parking lot.

My parents left Sunridge soon after I went away to college. They high-tailed it south to Florida to become snowbirds. Sold the house and everything. They told me they were tired of all the Illinois snow and blustery wind. So it left me without family or a place to stay when I took on this assignment to interview Ryder.

As I drove through the modest downtown at dark-thirty, I noted how things changed since the time I lived here as a kid. More modern multi-story buildings set up shop next to the historic courthouse and the city hall. I stopped at a cute café at the corner of First Street to grab a latte with double espresso shots before I drove to the gym.

Surprisingly, there were six cars already parked outside. These fighters were serious about their training. With fame and fortune at stake, who could blame them?

I walked into the Warrior's Den in my workout gear, ready to get started. I removed my hoodie and caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror next to the front desk. Were my leggings too tight? I tugged on my tank top. Being tall had its perks, but having all of your shirts look like crop tops wasn't one of them. Was this doing too much?

I put my doubts aside and walked onto the gym floor to the nearest weight rack, grabbing a pair of twenty-pounders. While I was waiting for Ryder to show up, I figured I might as well get my squats in.

The gym buzzed with activity, the sound of weights clanking, rubber soles squeaking against tiled floors, and the rhythmic thud of heavy bags being punched. Sweaty figures moved in a blur around me as I made my way to the side of the room—athletes in tees and shorts chalked up their hands, some bowed their heads in silent prayer before stepping into the ring, and powerlifters grunted as they strained against gravity. In between sets with my meager weights, I watched as they pushed their bodies to the limit. There was an unspoken camaraderie in the room. They had a mutual respect for one another.

I was on my eighth rep when I saw Ryder.

He stared at me, and the faintest smile danced across his lips as he leaned against the boxing ring from across the room. His tee shirt molded to the V-shape of his torso and his defined pecs.

I lowered my weights and turned my face to the side before he caught me staring. Already I was sweating. The latte gave me a caffeine jolt, but seeing Ryder made me wish I had ordered an iced coffee instead.

He came over, wiping his brow on a towel. "I was wondering when you were going to show up in something other than those heels and skirts." His eyes roamed over my figure, lingering at my breasts and the swell of my hips.

Heat rose in my cheeks. I gave him a coy smile, folding my arms over my chest. "What can I say? I like to keep people guessing."

"People, or just me?" He chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. "Well, you've kept me guessing long enough. Time for your first lesson."

"Um, first lesson in what?"

"Boxing. You want to learn all about my routines for your story, right? Nothing's better than first-hand experience." A naughty smirk appeared on his face. "You're dressed for the part. You can borrow a pair of my gloves."

My heart raced as he guided me over to one of the punching bags. The thing was almost as tall as he was, and probably had over two hundred pounds' worth of chains and sand inside. I stared at it while he made my hands disappear inside the gloves.

"You ready?" His hand was warm on my back, sending tingles up my spine. I breathed in the scent of him—sweat, leather and something spicy.

"This is a jab." He demonstrated, throwing a quick punch at the bag. It swayed like a smaller bag. "Keep your fist closed, aim for the center, and push off from your back leg and hip."

I copied his stance and threw a punch. It barely moved the bag. I cringed on the inside, imagining how cartoonish I looked with the large boxing gloves on, unable to swing a basic punch.

"More power." He came up behind me, grasping my hips to adjust my form. I froze, acutely aware of his hard body against mine. "Like this."

He guided my arm back and then forward in a sharp thrust. This time, I managed to make the bag sway. "Yes, exactly like that." His breath was warm on my neck, and I shivered. "Think you've got the hang of it?"

I turned to find his face inches from mine. "I'm a fast learner."

"I can see that." His gaze dipped to my mouth. "You're full of surprises, Ava."

My lips parted as he leaned in closer. The tension between us was as taut as a bowstring. I wanted nothing more than to close the distance, to lose myself in his kiss. But a shout from the boxing ring made us spring apart.

"They're finishing up. It's my turn for a second round." Ryder ran a hand through his hair. "See you later?"

I nodded, my face flaming as I returned his gloves. "I should go back to my hotel and change first."

As I left the gym, I touched my tingling lips, thinking of the kiss that almost was. I needed my blazer and blouse to shield me from this new heat between us that threatened to sear my professional armor.

TWO DAYS PASSED AS I continued to trail Ryder through his daily routines at the gym. I was determined to uncover the layers beneath his tough exterior. The gym became my second home, a place where I observed him in his element, hoping to catch more glimpses of his nature.

I watched Ryder as he worked through his drills: skip rope to hone agility, footwork, bench presses for strength. His movements were precise and powerful, his focus intense. I was mesmerized by his skill and strength. But then something else caught my attention on the second day—the service dogs in the gym.

They were a beautiful mix of breeds. Golden Retrievers, German Shepherds, and Labradors, all wearing blue vests. As they entered the gym, Ryder paused at their arrival, looking up from his workout to view them with a smile.

The dogs were ecstatic to be there. Their handlers allowed them to go to him. They jumped around him, practically begging for his attention as he rubbed their heads affectionately and fed them treats. He even laughed when one of the juveniles nipped at his shoes. His tenderness towards the animals was unexpected, something I hadn't seen before in our interactions together. I found myself melting a little at this new side to him.

I allowed a Golden Retriever to sniff my hand before I scratched it behind the ears. "Did you train your brother's service dog?" I remembered him telling me about his brother coming home from military deployment.

Ryder nodded. "He came all the way from Hoboken to get the dog."

"Do you still train them?"

"Whenever I can. I volunteer on Sundays when I'm not scheduled for a Saturday night fight."

My heart warmed as I watched Ryder interact with the dogs, his usual gruffness dissolving in their presence. The Golden Retriever nudged my hand, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. His tail wagged left to right. "Seems like I made a new gym buddy."

Ryder studied our interaction. "He's got good taste."

I grinned at him, appreciating the playful banter. "Or maybe he senses a fellow dog lover."

His lips quirked into a genuine smile as he continued to pet the dogs. "Yeah, maybe."

I felt a connection forming, a shared appreciation for something beyond the world of MMA. As the dog wagged its tail at me, I sensed camaraderie with Ryder, even if it was just over our mutual affection for these four-legged companions.

Ryder's voice cut through my thoughts. "I've got physical therapy in ten minutes." The smile was gone from his face. "You'll need to head out."

His abrupt dismissal took me by surprise. We'd been getting along, bonding over the service dogs he trained. Now he sounded like he couldn't wait to get rid of me.

"What I told you should be enough for one page of your story at least, right?"

Wow. Just like that, and we were back to the drawing board.

"Sure." I gathered my things, annoyance simmering under my skin. "I'm going to the café to put my notes together. I don't want to make you late for your appointment."

He didn't respond, just watched me with an unreadable expression. I strode out of the gym into the bright afternoon, the heavy metal door closing behind me.

The coffee shop on First Street offered a welcome respite from the suddenly charged tension I experienced with Ryder. I sank into a corner booth after ordering a double latte, the scents of fresh coffee and pastries soothing my ruffled feathers.

Rubbing my temples, I pulled out my laptop and added to the list of notes I'd compiled on him and the Fury Combat league. Concentrating proved difficult. My thoughts kept drifting to Ryder and his abrupt one-eighty in attitude.

One moment we were laughing and swapping stories, the next he couldn't wait to kick me out of the gym. I didn't understand what had changed or why he seemed so determined to keep me at arm's length. Did I ask too many personal questions about his brother and the service dogs? I really was interested in how he trained the dogs for a good cause. I wasn't doing this to write some sensationalist piece.

With a sigh, I took a long drink of my latte, the warmth spreading through me. I couldn't figure Ryder out, but I wasn't ready to give up. Not yet. There were more layers to him than he let on, and I aimed to discover each one.

Even if he seemed intent on blocking me at every turn.

An hour passed before I felt a cool autumn draft. My eyes lifted over the laptop screen to see Ryder walk in. Despite being caught off guard that he was in here, I couldn't help but stifle a yawn.

His keen gaze found me. "No one should be drowsy in a coffee shop. Did they run out of caffeine?"

I managed a sheepish grin. "It takes more than one latte to get me wired. This is only my second of the day. Well, four, if you count the double espresso shots."

"You might want to control the caffeine if you're building strength to hit those punching bags."

"Nah. I think I'm one and done with those, unless you have a new technique. Ooh, I could write about it. It might make a fun little segment in the piece. What do you think?" The words tumbled from me as my fingers flew across my laptop keyboard.

"I think you might want to switch to decaf for this round." Without missing a beat, he headed to the counter and soon returned with two coffees. His cup was gigantic, and I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at its size.

"What was it you said about laying off the decaf?"

"This is my first cup in a couple days. I'm not a big coffee drinker."

"Sure. You just get your week's worth in one cup."

"Here's yours. The barista made a pumpkin-maple something so you don't miss the caffeine."

"Thanks," I said, taking the cup he had bought for me.

My gaze shifted again to his massive coffee cup, and I couldn't resist a playful remark. "That's a good way to reverse a relaxing therapy session."

Ryder's response was guarded, his eyes avoiding mine. "I still got a lot ahead of me today. Gotta fuel up for the night."

As I sipped my coffee, I couldn't shake the curiosity gnawing at me. What was Ryder's day going to entail? I knew better than to pry into his personal business, especially after our previous interactions, but the question lingered in my mind. What was he preparing for, and where was he headed later tonight?

I decided to be bold and start digging. "Heading somewhere special?"

"Are you asking me if I'm going on a date again?" He shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Some fancy wine and dine stuff. Not my scene, but it is what it is."

"Wining and dining? Now I'm curious."

"Of course you'd be."

I took an innocent sip of my sugary autumn-flavored drink. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're a nosy reporter." Before I could protest at the name calling, he gave the tip of my nose a light, playful tap as he leaned close. "There's one thing you should know about me, Ava." His mouth was inches from mine. Heat swirled in my body. "I never kiss and tell."