feet while I run around making sure everything is perfect tonight. “You had other choices, but nooooo. You wanted to be a zebra.”
I look at her leopard print mini skirt and off the shoulder top.
Clearly this is punishment for actually thinking I could have something to do with wardrobe. Lesson learned.
“Second, because you’re wearing the see through dress, it’s going to be worse when the lights come up. Trust me. So drop the panties and let’s roll. You should be on stage in three minutes.”
With a stomp of my heel I growl, “Fine!”
While I wiggle out of the barely there thong I was wearing anyway she smirks. “I saw Tony by the way.”
“And?”
“He was lurking in the backroom with Logan.”
Paranoia strikes me quickly as I pick up the underwear. “Why?”
God I hope he’s still breathing.
“Looked like him and Stuart were grabbing a few photos. He wanted to tell me he couldn’t wait to see what you were gonna wear to blow his mind.”
A hint of a smile crawls across my face as I stroll over to my locker where I slide the underwear into my gym bag that’s inside. He’s been texting me almost all day, most of the time cute little sayings like that. I actually kind of like it.
He’s making me act girly. Is that bad?
With confidence, I grab my signs and hand my phone to Erin to hold onto until after my little performance. Once I’ve done my small role, I have to do a couple of bar checks to make sure the specials are going, check how we’re doing on crowd control, decorations, and that everyone is genuinely enjoying themselves. However, at this point, according to Frank, we’ve been almost at capacity since long before the fight, something that hasn’t happened since they first opened.
My heels click up the stairs as the DJ starts a rap song that I actually somewhat enjoy, making it a bit more fun to walk out into the ring where I see a crowd full of people dressed in their best jungle gear. Guys in camo, guys with face paint, and girls in animal prints. I strut out with my sponsor sign high in the air.
“And coming to the ring tonight. He’s mean. He’s lean. He’s what’s for dinner! They call him T-Bone!”
Note to self: Help DJ write better introductions.
I lower the sign and signal for T-Bone to plant a kiss on my cheek. Judging by the small pouch on the front of his stomach, I’d say T-Bones are all he eats, maybe alongside some potatoes and beer. Instantly he strolls over and rubs his rough beard against my cheek before planting a wet one on me causing the crowd to cheer wildly.
They wouldn’t be cheering if they’d just had that ogre rubbing his face against them. Neither would you.
Lifting my sign back up I switch it over as the D.J. announces, “He may twist! He may bend. But he does not break! The one, the only, Unbreakable!”
I proudly hold his sign up high and the cat calls along with the girlish screams from the audience accelerate tenfold.
I’ll give Logan that. He’ll always be the crowd favorite. And mine. Yours too by now.
Without looking over my shoulder, unsure that I can handle the look on his face tonight, I tap my cheek the same way for him on the other side.
Propping myself up in a seductive way against the posters, I prepare myself as his hand lands on the small of my back. In my ear in a very stern voice he whispers, “My backroom as soon as this fight is over.” And his lips slip onto my cheek leaving a trail of smoke behind.
That may have all happened in the blink of an eye for you and the crowd but for me, it was like a chopped and screwed rap song.
I do my best to stay calm, and in character as I like to think of it, and strut off stage while a few guys from the crowd seem sad to see me go. I’m slightly sad to see me go too. I don’t know what it is about being in the ring that makes Logan feel comfortable saying shit like that to me, but I sure the hell wish it would carry over.
***
When the sound of the crowd’s cheers
I look at her leopard print mini skirt and off the shoulder top.
Clearly this is punishment for actually thinking I could have something to do with wardrobe. Lesson learned.
“Second, because you’re wearing the see through dress, it’s going to be worse when the lights come up. Trust me. So drop the panties and let’s roll. You should be on stage in three minutes.”
With a stomp of my heel I growl, “Fine!”
While I wiggle out of the barely there thong I was wearing anyway she smirks. “I saw Tony by the way.”
“And?”
“He was lurking in the backroom with Logan.”
Paranoia strikes me quickly as I pick up the underwear. “Why?”
God I hope he’s still breathing.
“Looked like him and Stuart were grabbing a few photos. He wanted to tell me he couldn’t wait to see what you were gonna wear to blow his mind.”
A hint of a smile crawls across my face as I stroll over to my locker where I slide the underwear into my gym bag that’s inside. He’s been texting me almost all day, most of the time cute little sayings like that. I actually kind of like it.
He’s making me act girly. Is that bad?
With confidence, I grab my signs and hand my phone to Erin to hold onto until after my little performance. Once I’ve done my small role, I have to do a couple of bar checks to make sure the specials are going, check how we’re doing on crowd control, decorations, and that everyone is genuinely enjoying themselves. However, at this point, according to Frank, we’ve been almost at capacity since long before the fight, something that hasn’t happened since they first opened.
My heels click up the stairs as the DJ starts a rap song that I actually somewhat enjoy, making it a bit more fun to walk out into the ring where I see a crowd full of people dressed in their best jungle gear. Guys in camo, guys with face paint, and girls in animal prints. I strut out with my sponsor sign high in the air.
“And coming to the ring tonight. He’s mean. He’s lean. He’s what’s for dinner! They call him T-Bone!”
Note to self: Help DJ write better introductions.
I lower the sign and signal for T-Bone to plant a kiss on my cheek. Judging by the small pouch on the front of his stomach, I’d say T-Bones are all he eats, maybe alongside some potatoes and beer. Instantly he strolls over and rubs his rough beard against my cheek before planting a wet one on me causing the crowd to cheer wildly.
They wouldn’t be cheering if they’d just had that ogre rubbing his face against them. Neither would you.
Lifting my sign back up I switch it over as the D.J. announces, “He may twist! He may bend. But he does not break! The one, the only, Unbreakable!”
I proudly hold his sign up high and the cat calls along with the girlish screams from the audience accelerate tenfold.
I’ll give Logan that. He’ll always be the crowd favorite. And mine. Yours too by now.
Without looking over my shoulder, unsure that I can handle the look on his face tonight, I tap my cheek the same way for him on the other side.
Propping myself up in a seductive way against the posters, I prepare myself as his hand lands on the small of my back. In my ear in a very stern voice he whispers, “My backroom as soon as this fight is over.” And his lips slip onto my cheek leaving a trail of smoke behind.
That may have all happened in the blink of an eye for you and the crowd but for me, it was like a chopped and screwed rap song.
I do my best to stay calm, and in character as I like to think of it, and strut off stage while a few guys from the crowd seem sad to see me go. I’m slightly sad to see me go too. I don’t know what it is about being in the ring that makes Logan feel comfortable saying shit like that to me, but I sure the hell wish it would carry over.
***
When the sound of the crowd’s cheers
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