Page 32 of Fierce-Jonah
“So the back isn’t closed off to only those getting training?” she asked. “And you know I’m going to ask you more about that.”
“I figured. Yes, it’s open for anyone to walk back there. Sometimes members do if there is a match going on.”
“A match?” she asked. “Now I’m more confused. You said you don’t fight.”
“I don’t. I train MMA fighters. Or those that want to train as fighters. Some want to train for the exercise but will never get in a ring. They like to just be a partner with others that are in the ring.”
She shook her head. “Not making much sense, but maybe I get it.”
He laughed. “Not everyone likes to get pounded on and walk out limping or have bruises all over their body.”
She lifted her hand. “I can relate to the limping part.”
He snorted. “How are you feeling?”
He’d been checking in with her daily and she thought that was sweet and then wondered if that was just his way to keep in touch with her or not. She didn’t want to overthink this situation and was trying to let it work its way out the way it was.
“Much better.”
“Then you’re ready for another round?” he asked, his eyebrows wiggling.
“If that is the only way I get to see you, I’ll have to consider it.”
He sighed. “Yeah. Something to talk about too.” They waited until their orders were placed, Megan getting an omelet and him getting waffles, eggs and bacon. She supposed with the size of him, he ate a lot. He was most likely moving all day too.
“Are you hungry?”
“I eat a lot,” he said. “I get breakfast to go here sometimes during the week. Something big like this to hold me over. Carbs and protein.”
“Is part of your training or services nutrition?” she asked. She knew she was going to be hopping all over the place worse than bunnies on Easter Sunday.
“No,” he said. “I don’t have a background in that other than what I’ve researched myself when I was training. I wouldn’t give advice for it.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have someone on hand for your members.”
“I’ve thought of it, but it’s not a cost I want to take on. It’d have to be the right person willing to do it on their own time and not part of my business. I’d make my place available for them to meet but not have them on my payroll or an insurance liability.”
“That’s smart,” she said.
“I get the feeling you are surprised by that.”
She grinned. “No. Well, maybe a little. Men like you probably get stereotyped as meatheads.”
“Most times,” he said. “I guess that’s not your type either.”
“You’re the first I’m even willing to get to know. I figured all the other men I’ve tried to go out with and get to know have flopped worse than me doing a face plant the first time I wore heels out with my friends.”
He laughed at her. “Joke?”
“Unfortunately, no. I was nineteen and in college and thought, let’s see if we can try to get into this club without being ID’d. I tripped before we turned the corner to the place, lost my balance, and went face-first to the concrete. I did catch myself on my hands, only scraping my palms and knees. So no, I didn’t kiss the asphalt, but close enough.”
“Something tells me you left after that and didn’t go into the club.”
“No way would I go in after that,” she said. “I was laughing so hard I almost wet myself. And even if I’d tried to walk in I couldn’t stop the giggles. No one was going to think I was older if I couldn’t control myself.”
“Good point,” he said. “No fake ID for you?”
“No. Though my parents insisted I was the wild child that never listened, I did play by the rules most of the time. I would have been too afraid of being caught and getting in trouble. I was lectured enough in my life; I didn’t need anymore.”