Perfect Addiction (Perfect 2)

“It’s when two people who really love each other do it over a cup of coffee.”

“You’re hilarious, you know that?” His gaze slides to mine, annoyance lighting his eyes.

“Relax. It’s just matcha with espresso in it.” I wrinkle my nose at him. “You believed me for a second there, didn’t you?”

“Did not.”

“Liar.” I singsong, and Kayden merely grunts, turning his back on me and dragging himself toward the cashier.

“You better not be having any sugar in yours!” I add, and he waves me off with a dismissive hand. Wondering if he would seriously disregard my first dietary advice to him as his trainer, I stay by the sidelines, eavesdropping as he recites his order to the barista. A satisfied grin pops on my face when I hear him say no sugar.

I scour the place for an empty seat, and wait a few minutes for a couple to vacate their spot before I swoop in to grab their table. Kayden appears shortly after with two steaming cups. He hands me mine and slides into the seat opposite me.

“So, knockouts are in two weeks,” he points out, his hands wrapping around his cup as he stares at the lid.

“There’s usually a week of buffer time before the semifinals and three before the finals, so that means we gotta be ready by then. I’m all ears for whatever kind of plan you have for me for the next six weeks. And I know you have college and MMA classes, so I’m wondering how we’re going to find the time to do this.”

“Six weeks is tight for prep, but I think with what I have planned we should be able to make do. I’m ahead in all my classes, so don’t worry about me,” I explain as I take a generous sip of my latte, the caffeine already doing a decent job of kick starting my senses after that morning jog. “What I wanna know is what your current schedule is looking like?”

“I train at Breaking Point. Every day. Twice a day.”

“That’s too much.” I shake my head in disapproval. “Let’s do six days a week. Twice a day with two half days of rest.

You need adequate rest or you’re going to overwork yourself and risk getting injured.”

Kayden’s grip on his cup tightens. He makes a sound of protest. “Six days a week is too little.”

“If you’re training with me, you need to stick to that schedule. I’m not going to have you killing yourself for this fight. We don’t want to take your street name too seriously.”

I lean back against my seat, crossing one leg over the other to make myself comfortable. “I’ll be with you most of the time, if not, at least one of the two sessions of the day, and you’ll carry out the remaining sessions on your own with the regimen I’ve created. I think you’re cool and all, but codependency is unfortunately not my thing.”

“What about diet?” Kayden inquires. “You gonna plan that as well?”

“You eat and drink clean. No sugar, no alcohol. I want you doing preworkout meals to have you primed for training.

Carbs are a mainstay. Lots of protein. And apart from that, I have no other qualms. I just need you to stick to your current size,” I inform him. “Jax might be bigger but that comes with weaknesses. We’re not trying to be like him.”

“That’s fine.” He nods in understanding. “What are the days we won’t be training?”

“Let’s do half days on Friday and Saturday, and Sunday a full day off. We’ll still be doing our daily runs those days to keep up with cardio, but no high-intensity training.”

“What am I going to do during the times we’re not training?”

“You take a break. We both do.” I say it like it’s so obvious.

“I want a social life. Don’t you?”

“I have a social life,” Kayden growls.

“Oh yeah? Name one friend,” I shoot back, adding quickly, “And before you say Brent, your stepbrother does not count.”

“Okay, fine. But give me credit where it’s due. Stepbrother counts at least half a point.” Kayden tries to argue with me.

“I didn’t know we were even counting points,” I say, mouth inching into a half smile. “I guess you could count me. But like you said earlier, you still don’t know whether you should like me or not. And if you want me to count as your friend, the liking needs to be there.”

Kayden stays silent for a while, assessing my words. He rubs a hand over his chin and shrugs. “I guess you’re not that bad.”

“You guess?” I echo, baffled.