Read Hot and Cold for Free Online

tonight, but we didn’t do our ritual.”
    “What’d you do this afternoon then?”
    “I chilled. I took a drive, warmed up a little bit. Mostly, though, I thought of you.”
    “Me?”
    “Yeah, you. Knowing you have my back gives me more fire than any hours I can put in at the gym.”
    I could hear the smoke in his words.
    “Aww…” I started, but I had no idea what to say. I didn’t know what I had even done.
    “Anyway, thanks,” he said, “If I make it happen tonight, it’s all because of you. I love you, baby.”
    “I…love you, too.”
    There was only his breathing on the line, but I could hear his smile.
    If you’d told me that I’d first hear those words through the tinny speaker of some dumb phone, it would have broken my heart. But the words turned space meaningless. I could feel him right with me, as sure as the breath in my lungs or the air on my lips.
    The phone clicked off. There was really nothing more to say.
    But there was plenty to do.
    Half an hour later and I was checking the street signs to see if this was my turn. A couple pickups blasting country rap whooped and hollered as they roared past me and hung a right.
    Yeah, this was it.
    The school lot was crowded when I passed it, so I parked off on a side street and walked back. More and more shaved-headed and tattooed guys joined my side as I ventured through the lot and the wide open doors.
    I saw a couple of them nudging friends or staring nakedly at me.
    “Ey, mami,” one called. “You need some company tonight?”
    “I’m taken, thanks,” I squeaked without looking.
    I breathed and tried to swallow the acid feeling I got as the roar of the crowd inside grew closer. It was low, like a lawnmower’s blades. It had a whole different feel than game days at Ann Arbor. The voices were angrier and entirely male.
    I streamed in past the bouncers and needled my way through the crowd quickly. A few of the brushes that passed my body may have been intentional, but I got to my aisle seat intact. I’d paid a heck of a lot to get a seat just south of the VIP section. People with cash were less rowdy.
    Also, I was close enough to see every inch of the ring. It was elevated just a foot or two. Chain fences rose up on eight sides - the octagon, they called it. Tray lights hung over the center.
    A couple guys were already going at it inside: a white guy with almost ivory skin against a tan, maybe Latino guy. Both were sweating, one was bleeding. I tried to pay attention, but the guys were mostly caught in tight hugs.
    I really didn’t see what the appeal of this was, but the crowd around me sure did. They looked straight out of some Animal Planet show on primates: brows crossed, mouth howling in anger, hands fisting the air as they urged on whichever tribe alpha they supported.
    It was a world I didn’t understand, but one I couldn’t ignore anymore. This was Sean’s world – this human jungle. I’d been silly to think I could seal myself off from that part of his life.
    The crowd roared all at once and I jolted in my seat. In the ring, one guy was staring down at the other, who wasn’t moving. I didn’t know much about the sport, but I could understand a knockout.
    Some guys came to help the loser off the ring, and the referee strode in to call the fight. People with mops came in to wipe down the mat. As they worked, bikinied blondes ran in, looking ecstatic and coy as they waved around giant ads. Guys started yelling and beckoning at them, as if the girls would pick them alone out of the entire damn crowd.
    It was a bit too much. I fidgeted on my phone until the referee started speaking on a megaphone.
    “Alright, here’s the fight you’ve been waiting for. Coming into the Octagon now, put your hands up for the Iron Giant. The Tin Man of Michigan. The one, the only Raymond Higgins!”
    My eardrums nearly blew out as the arena exploded. A compact, efficient-looking black man strode stiffly into the arena and took his spot in the center.