Perfect Addiction

THREE

I slump to the floor outside Kayden's apartment, bumping my head against the wall in defeat.

Well, that went well.

I don't think I've ever met anyone who treated me this shitty upon first meeting before. It was like he was repulsed by me. Or maybe he just took one look at me and assumed the absolute worst of me. Whichever the case, I'm not in the mood to stick around to find out.

Swallowing my pride, I collect myself and head out. I guess another night at a crappy hotel it is.

Finding another place to stay will take me weeks. Even then there's no guarantee. Maybe I can hold out until spring break, when there will be more availability, but I doubt I'll be able to endure even a couple more days of my paycheck getting eaten up by the cost of living in budget hotels. Brent might be willing to let me crash at his place for a while, but I'm not sure how I feel about asking for help from someone I'm not that well acquainted with yet.

I'll just have to keep myself busy on rental apps and hounding college officers. It'll be all right. I'm sure it will be.

***

It's not.

It's been three days and I've had zero leads. My nights since my encounter with Kayden have been spent eating out of noodle cups and scrolling endlessly on the college website, filling out applications for every listed accommodation offered. So far most of them have not gotten back to me, and when they do, it's usually doomed with the email opener "We regret to inform you . . . " Other off-campus places I've checked out are either too far away from the city or way out of my budget.

Deciding that a small break is in order to take my mind off this, I decide to pay a visit to UFG. When I arrive, the gym is unexpectedly sparse for a Saturday evening. Apart from the two guys sparring in the cage and the trainer who has just started their metabolic conditioning class, yelling at his three students to speed up their push-up burpees, the space feels somewhat empty.

My attention lingers on the class being held because it's the only thing that seems riveting to watch. I don't usually run big classes here, instead preferring one-on-one training because I like to give my full attention to whomever I'm training. Most of the people who come for my training sessions are beginners—usually guys who went down the YouTube rabbit hole watching UFC fights and decide that it's easy enough to get into the competitive sport. But while the sport is fun to watch, there are very few people with an appetite for getting punched in the face. And once they do, they usually don't stick around very long.

And unlike other kinds of sports, you don't have anyone to rely on but yourself. The fight falls completely on your shoulders, which usually comes with its own psychological and physical barriers that can be difficult to overcome. When I first started with Jax, it was incredibly overwhelming. The endless hours of conditioning, strength work, and martial arts training packed into a crazy six days a week schedule completely shattered my body for the first month until I finally built up my tolerance. The only reason I didn't give up was because I craved the emotional release I got from those sessions. I sought it like a miracle stimulant drug, dissolving all the pent-up anger of the week from my body once I got my boost of adrenaline and power.

I adored every minute of training with Jax. I could watch him in that cage for hours and never get tired of it. He's merciless when he fights, like a king cobra with its imposing size and deadly bite, looming over his prey, only to strike a viciously fatal blow that knocks them out for good. I love the way he moves so fluidly around the cage, bred with boldness and strength as he keeps pushing himself—both mentally and physically—until he's toeing the precipice of his limits yet still remaining fearlessly on top.