Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
But I couldn’t do that. Not until Kage decided once and for all that it’s what he wanted. Ours was a game of duck and cover, of take-down and scramble. So far, we had refuted every whispered accusation with a plausible explanation, while avoiding telling lies that would set us up for a big fall if our relationship was ever publicly revealed.
Thanks to Kage’s notorious visits to Georgia, everyone in my close group of family and friends already knew the truth about us, so there was no sense trying to hide from them. They had all been sworn to secrecy, but who knew whether that would hold up. You never knew when human beings were concerned. Flash some cash or get them drunk, and they’d sing like Mariah Carey.
“I know you don’t like to talk about your uncle much, but I just wanted to ask how you’re holding up after his death. That had to have been rough, losing the only father you ever really knew.”
Kage smiled. “Inheriting a fortune certainly helps in dealing with the pain,” he said. “But yes, it was very tough, and I’m doing fine now. Thanks for asking.” He was so sincere. No one would ever have guessed what really happened. That Kage and I were both murderers now, and we were glad Santori was gone.
After a couple more interview questions, which Kage handled smoothly and with his usual charm, Grace scooted forward on her chair and leaned in toward him. The sympathetic crease of her brow and the new intimate posture she’d adopted had me sitting forward on my own seat, which in turn prompted Kage to pound a few thrusts up into me. I wondered if we’d be able to make it through the rest of the interview without breaking down and fucking, because I had already lost my concentration several times.
“Kage, there’s a question I wanted to ask you tonight. A question of a profoundly personal nature.” Grace’s voice dropped dramatically. “I think you know what that question is.”
Kage stretched out even further in his seat, conveying a level of comfort that most people would find difficult or even impossible to achieve at all on national television, much less when they’ve just been told they’re about to have to answer a tough question. But then Kage, ever the fighter, was at his best when he was challenged. Like he’d just told Grace, he never stopped fighting, even when he was down.
He gave her a cocky half smile. “Yeah, I’m well aware of the insinuations that have been floating around about me for a while now. I also know that most of these guys talking shit don’t have the balls to come right out and say what they mean without hiding behind vague innuendos and silly tweets, so I’ll go ahead and say it for them. Yeah, it’s true. I’ve got a boyfriend. Outside of the octagon, outside of this business, he’s my world. Nobody even comes close. Some people think there’s something wrong with that. I don’t. If you look around at these other fighters… Cristiano Diaz, he’s got his girl. Davi Matos has got his wife and kids. Nick Riker has a girl. All of these guys have got someone to go home to after the fight. They’ve got their baby, I’ve got mine: Jamie Atwood. That’s who I love. He’s the one I go home to at night, and who patches me up after I get beaten down.”
I forgot to breathe, and there wasn’t even the sound of moving air in the room. Only the TV, and even that was silent for a moment. I think everyone including Grace Howard and the studio employees were all stunned at Kage’s admission.
Like me, they’d all expected a denial, or at the very least the usual strategic avoidance of the question. Hell, I was his boyfriend, and I never would have expected him to be that blatantly honest. But my heart was soaring in my chest, because I was so damn proud that he had.
I was so shocked, I’d even stopped grinding on Kage, and he had stopped stroking me, waiting for my reaction. I just sat there, a rapt viewer like everyone else who was watching and trying to process what they’d just heard.
I sank back against him on the sofa and grabbed his hand, winding my fingers around his as we continued to watch in silence.
Grace, a true professional, recovered quickly. “Thank you, Kage, for having the courage to be so honest with our viewers. But what about the people who would say that you’re a distraction in the ring, because of fears of sexual harassment?”
“Sexual harassment? What do you mean, like people think I’m gonna be grabbing their ass or something?” Kage laughed, one of those genuine boyish laughs with the dimples I loved so much. “Clearly the people who come up with this bullshit have never had a real fight inside the octagon. What I’d like to know is what man can face off with another man in a brutal, essentially no-holds-barred fight to the finish, and still be thinking about sex? Maybe those are the guys who are losing, I don’t know. When I step into the ring, I’ve got only one thing on my mind, and that’s winning. And to win, I’ve got to survive. I’m thinking about how to get you in an arm bar, how to choke you out, or how to kick you so hard you don’t wake up until the show’s over and they’re sweeping the floors. If any of you guys out there who are scared of sexual harassment think you’ve got what it takes to shake my concentration, I say bring it on. Or you could just stop making pussy excuses why you don’t want to fight me. If you’re scared, say you’re scared. But don’t make it about sex. That just cheapens our whole sport.”