Gasnier leant back and took her hand, bringing it to his mouth. “I’ll see you at six?”
He walked with her back to the entrance, and only then did he let go of her. She went in first, as if in a daze. There were no more customers. Gasnier posed for a selfie with Fiona, as promised, before taking his hot chocolate. She rattled off some of her well thought out strategy for his next fight, and he seemed to take it with the utmost respect. He thanked her for her support and gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. She was so overjoyed, and it truly warmed Tegan’s heart.
With a sip of his drink, he nodded in her direction and simply said, “Tegan.” Then he walked out.
Fiona looked down and pressed her fingers to her cheeks before walking back to the station. “I am floating on a cloud, you know?”
Yes, Tegan did, and she wasn’t the only one. Less than twenty-four hours ago Tegan didn’t know his name, and she had now kissed him twice. No, not kissed, made out. What happened last night was a bit of fun, albeit tipsy, risky fun. This was something else. Tegan fixed herself a glass of water and drained it in two gulps, refilled and drained it again.
This, Fiona noticed as she leant against the counter. “And now... what did you two get up to?”
“He um... he apologised for what his dad said last night.”
“That’s it? Then why do you have the look of someone that got hit over the head with a bat? Did he roundhouse kick you?”
Tegan shook the joke off. Trying to put into words what was, in her mind, so weird to even think. “I think... I think I’m going out on a date with him tonight...”
Fiona broke out into another squeal, saying things Tegan wasn’t really listening to. She was too distracted. It wasn’t the prospect of the date that had her so frazzled. It wasn’t that she had to rush home, to get clothes, only to come back here so he could pick her up. It wasn’t even the kiss that was stuck in her mind. Either of them. It was a gesture so simple, so innocent, she couldn’t understand why it meant so much to her. That he held her hand the short distance they walked from the wall to the door.
* * *
Owen stepped inside his newly rented apartment and sat down on the couch. He hadn’t really thought this through. Hell, he hadn’t even planned on asking her out. It just happened. Where the hell was he going to take her?
Was this right? He was only in Sydney for a few days. He couldn’t offer her anything real. He couldn’t offer anyone anything like a real relationship. His training and his lifestyle just did not support more than one night here and there. He had temporary lovers from all over the world. None of which the media or his father knew about.
Most were fellow fighters. They needed to release some tension just like he did. No misunderstandings. It was a well-kept secret among fighters because you never gossiped about the peers you slept with. The more attention the press gives you, the harder it is to maintain something simple like going to the movies or a restaurant. So, most hook-ups were organised face-to-face. Direct and to the point. Usually, after matches with no media around.
His most recent was Lindsay Lourde. They spent two nights in a Belgium hotel. Their rooms were right next to each other, and after their matches, she asked him if he was busy. They spent the next thirty hours or so without clothes. The only thing he wore was a condom. After the second day, she returned to her room, with a wave and a smile, to pack for her flight and had never contacted him again. No hard feelings. No expectations. That was the world he lived in.
But it wasn’t the world Tegan lived in. He couldn’t and wouldn’t treat her like a lover to be tossed aside. In the fighting world, it was expected. There was no such thing as a slut or man whore. You trained hard, you fought hard, you fucked hard. You moved on.
Even cheating on your spouse wasn’t looked at as a big deal, yet that was something Owen would never do. In his heart of hearts, he knew he would never make the same mistake his father had. It tore his family apart, and Owen hadn’t seen his mother in years. To his knowledge, she had never seen any of his fights. Not only did the sport rob her of what she thought was a loving engagement, but it had sucked in her only child too.
He hated his dad for a long time after his cheating was revealed, but over time, Owen realised if he couldn’t hate his mum for wanting nothing to do with either of them, he couldn’t hate his dad. The cycle of resentment and bitterness had to stop somewhere, and Owen decided it would stop with him.
This life was lonely whether you surround yourself with beautiful women, booze, drugs and hangers on or not. Very few people treated you as if you were worth something unless you were bringing in money. Or, in other words, winning. Well, he had never been defeated, yet the only person that had stuck by him was his father.
Mistakes notwithstanding, his dad was a tiger protecting him. One of the reasons Robert never wanted Owen in the business was because he feared Owen would make the same mistakes. But both men grew to know, though they were father and son, they were two very different people.
In a strange way, Owen found Tegan attractive, in part, because she didn’t like fighting. She didn’t know who he was. She didn’t care who he was. He found just talking with her enlightening. She could hold a conversation and wasn’t afraid to be herself, to be honest. The fact she wasn’t a bad kisser was just icing. She had kissed him, originally to get him out of trouble. To put the onus on herself and to put his father at ease.
He kissed her because... well... he shouldn’t have kissed her. He could’ve misread the situation entirely, and she could’ve viewed it as him forcing himself on her. Just what his father was afraid of. What she even said he had to be careful of. But she kissed him back. And, to add even more confusion, for some reason he asked her out. And she accepted a date with a guy who wouldn’t even be in the country next week.Jesus, what a mess.
He had to snap himself out of his daydream when his father entered the room hanging up a phone call.
“OK, that was six-one-nine radio. I got an interview for you, plus a photo shoot later this afternoon. Might as well make the most out of being back home for a while.”
“What time this afternoon?”
“Five-thirty.”
Owen leant his head back. “Can’t do it. Sorry.”
“What do you mean you can’t do it?”
“I’ve already made plans.”
“Shit...” Robert peered down at his scribbles. “I should’ve confirmed with you, but to be fair, you never make plans this late in the day. Can I ask what you’re doing?”