Her militant stride proclaimed she didn’t mess around. She stopped at my salutation, though she stood ruler straight and glared. This one would not easily fall prey to my numerous charms.
“Yes?” she barked.
It took me a moment to answer, because the way her bangs lined up perfectly with her pitch black eyebrows fascinated me.
Lack of sleep was making me insane.
“I’m looking for someone,” I said in what I hoped was a non-confrontational voice. Patience had never been my strong suit. “Maybe you can help me?”
“There aren’t any little girls here, freak. Are you on one of those pedo watch lists?” She already had her phone in hand. She’d probably commence scanning a FBI database for my picture at the first wrong move.
Belatedly, I realized my hood obscured a good part of my head. No wonder she thought I was some kind of creeper. I shoved it back. “No pedo here, just a fellow fighter.” I gave her my most disarming smile and stuck out a hand. “Maybe you’ve heard of me? Tray Knox?”
She narrowed her eyes until they were slits. “Fox?”
Goddammit. “Yeah. Fox.” I drew back my hand when it became obvious she thought I had a communicable disease.
“What’re you doing here?” She smirked. “Turning tranny?”
“I’m looking for someone. Name’s Mia.” I hoped a first name would suffice, since I didn’t have a last. That would’ve been useful information, but I was known for my looks, not my mind.
“Oh fuck no. Don’t tell me it’s for real. You’re actually gonna fight that bitch?”
I nearly defended Mia’s unseen honor before acknowledging that wasn’t the best tack to take with present company. “You’ve heard she wants to fight me?”
“Who the eff hasn’t? She’s been telling everyone ’round here, thinking it makes her seem hard. Like a dude like you’s ever gonna fight some white trash pussy like her.”
I crossed my arms. “Is that so?”
She cocked an eyebrow and got up in my face. Hello, crash course 101 in women’s MMA. So far it didn’t look much different than men’s, minus the big pair of cans currently grinding into my pecs. Her nipples felt like nails.
“You trying to tell me you’re seriously considering fighting her? You wanna get thrown in the slammer when you break one of her gel tips? Dumb hick fuck.” She reached up and slammed the side of her hand into my head.
It actually hurt. Damn, these babes were something.
“Back off, Vanity.”
I braced at Mia’s husky voice. My brain kicked in just as the angry brunette spun around.
“Yeah? Who’s going to make me?”
Mia didn’t look the least bit concerned. She wore a pair of loose sweatpants, knotted at the waist and a baggy T-shirt that revealed one of the straps of her sports bra. She still had on my jacket.
My body braced even further at that. I’d never had a woman wear my clothes before. It was sexier than I would’ve guessed. Even if Mia hated me, she was walking around wrapped up in my smell. It was basically a built-in deterrent to every other male within pissing distance.
Couldn’t say I minded either.
Ignoring the girl she’d called Vanity, Mia lifted a brow in my general direction. “Can I help you?”
She had cojones, all right. Even I would’ve been hard-pressed to turn a blind eye to someone who was practically snarling in my face.
“I believe we have some business to discuss.”
“Do we?” Mia tilted her head and her loose ponytail unfurled a bit around her cheeks. In the bright light of morning, her bruises were more pronounced, their mottled colors less hidden by makeup. She almost matched Vanity’s girled-up camo gear. “Unless you have an answer for me, I was pretty sure we’d…discussed all we needed to last night.”
“I don’t think so.” I turned my smile on Vanity, who only looked marginally more friendly than she had before. “Thank you for your help. And the hit to the skull. It helped me wake up.”
Shaking her head, she looked from me to Mia and back again. “Dumbasses.” She slammed her way into the gym.