FIGHT

Chapter 8

*** This was my favorite chapter to write of FIGHT, I just love it. I'm nearly 19 now but the just-turned-17-year-old in me is still having her heyday with this chapter ***

'Are your cuts healed yet? xx'

I shake my head at his message. Holden just saw me yesterday; he knows they're not quite healed yet. I'll admit, they do look much better though. The angry red lines have faded to a soft pink. They're much more discreet now.

'No, but they look a lot better. Not very noticeable anymore; unless you know they're there, of course.'

'Good. Wear something sexy tonight. xx'

I bring my towel up to my damp hair, drying it as much as possible. I should be rolling my eyes, but I've spent so much time with Holden during the last couple of days that I'm becoming accustomed to his inappropriate comments. I mean, at least they're flattering.

Tonight is his match.

Not that I'm unprepared or would've forgotten; Holden was sure to consistently remind me last night when we were hanging out at his house. Which, might I say, was a typical bachelor pad.

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. When I walked in, the place practically screamed, "I'm rich, successful, and get laid often."

To be fair, I'm sure all of those statements are completely accurate.

Holden almost looked nervous showing me around the place, though. Probably because as we went room by room, it started to look like he was trying to show off more and more. Not necessarily in his attitude, but in his belongings.

They are flashy and materialistic.

When I first met him, I would have said that they fit his personality perfectly. Now, however, I'm not so sure.

There was one thing that struck me as strange in his house. Whereas the rest of his apartment was modern and sleek, his bedroom was an absolute mess. It was one of those rooms that just really looked lived in, I suppose.

A nervous and shy Holden pops into my mind as I picture the details of his bedroom. His bed was messily immaculate with blankets strewn every which way. One pillow was tossed onto the soft carpet and another was leaning haphazardly against the bed frame.

There was a television sitting on a dresser, random movies piled all around it. I noticed that he has quite the Will Ferrell collection, which was definitely not something I would've pegged him for. Granted, he's a lot different than I originally thought.

Holden had a few books, but not many. That doesn't surprise me, really. Most of his time is spent training; he doesn't have much to spare for reading. For instance, Fight Club was sitting on his nightstand. Wait until he picks it up and discovers what it's actually about.

If he ever gets a chance to read it, that is.

But I learned things about Holden by going to his apartment last night.

He isn't a health nut like most professional boxers. His logic is that he trains enough to wear the fatty foods off, which I totally agree with. Plus, Holden mostly eats protein anyway. I also learned that he orders olives on his pizza just so he can pick them off and eat them on their own. Holden would be the perfect person for the Olive Test from How I Met Your Mother; I hate them and he would eat them in seconds.

My phone buzzes again, bringing me out of my thoughts from last night.

'But not too sexy. I'm only scheduled for one fight tonight, but I won't hesitate to get into another for you. xx'