Page 165 of Heal Me, Love Me

“Okay, we’ve got time for one more,” the moderator announced and pointed to someone in the audience. “Go ahead.”

“Keaton.” My attention went to the reporter who was now standing. “Cam Smith,Fight Weekly.” He smiled. “This is a big moment for you.”

I nodded. “Biggest fight of my career.”

“What makes it different?”

I pretended to consider the question for a second, but gave a generic answer. “The stage, the audience, the opportunity. I’ve never been part of something at this level.”

The guy flipped through his notes. “You and Cross have both said this is the biggest opportunity you’ve had. You’re both undefeated, and the promotion has made a big deal out of the fact that you once trained together. Does that make this fight feel personal?”

I folded my arms across my chest. “People like to make something out of nothing. Rowan and I once trained at the same gym, pushed each other, pissed each other off, and got better because of it. That doesn’t make this personal. It makes it a fight.”

The reporter looked disappointed, then looked back down at his notes. “I spoke with someone who implied that you knew each other before Titan.”

The room felt noticeably warmer, and not just because of the lights we were sitting under. “What happened before Titan doesn’t matter.”

His pen immediately started moving, and I regretted the sentence before he finished writing it. “Why not?”

I shrugged. “Because none of it changes what’s going to happen on Saturday night.”

The reporter opened his mouth as if he wanted to ask another question, but the moderator stepped in before he had the chance. “That’s all the time we have.”

A chorus of disappointed groans and shuffling chairs followed as reporters began gathering their notebooks, cameras, and recording equipment. The fighters around me immediately stood, some heading toward the exits while others paused for additional photos or quick one-on-one interviews.

I was halfway out of my chair when my gaze drifted to the other end of the table. Rowan was already on his feet, giving Grant a quick nod before he bypassed the reporters still trying to catch him for questions and pictures. He turned toward the side exit and left without looking back.

Shit.

Just because we weren’t together anymore didn’t mean I couldn’t tell when he was pissed, and I immediately knew I shouldn’t have said what I did. The reporter had been digging for a story neither Rowan nor I wanted anyone to find out about. There wasn’t an easy way to answer the questions by explaining the truth without opening doors that needed to stay closed.

It didn’t matter that we hadn’t talked since the phone call about our fight, I couldn’t let him walk away thinking I’d meant those words the way they sounded. I weaved through people toward the same door Rowan had gone through. The farther I got from the conference room, the more the crowd thinneduntil only a handful of staff members were moving through the convention center corridors.

I rounded a corner, spotted him ahead, and quickened my pace. “Rowan!”

His shoulders visibly stiffened, but he kept walking.

I tried again. “Rowan! Wait up!”

This time, he stopped and slowly turned around. His jaw was set, his mouth flat, and his expression contained more anger than I’d ever seen him direct at me.

“I didn’t mean it.”

His expression didn’t change. “Which part?”

“About our past.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “It sounded pretty clear to me.”

“I wasn’t talking about our relationship.”

“No?” He took a step closer. “Because from where I was sitting, that’s exactly what it sounded like.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “What was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, but maybe don’t act like none of it mattered.”

“That’s not what I was doing.”