One big happy family. Another pang of longing and regret washes over me. When I gave up Jake, I gave up these guys too.

Still, it’s good to see nothing has changed in the two years I’ve been away. Well, except for the fact that the club is no longer illegal. A shiny new license takes up space by the door. The chalkboards covering the walls in the spacious main foyer now list upcoming sanctioned fights in addition to all the new training classes. Rules are posted on the bulletin board, and a huge Team Redemption MMA logo flashes on a screen in the corner.

Jake tours me through the renovated facility, a whopping 24,000 feet of the best MMA gear money can buy. The strength and cardio area now boasts three long rows of shiny new cardio equipment and a sea of weight machines, benches, and free weights. The walls have been painted bright shades of blue, red, and green, and wall-length mirrors brighten the space. We turn a corner and a blue sea of mat space stretches out before me. Grapple dummies line the walls like an army of soldiers, and across from them hang a small corps of punching bags. Three practice rings dominate the corners, and the gym is heaving with sweaty bodies.

“Wow. Makayla said Max—”

He cuts me off. “Don’t forget you have to use ring names in the gym.”

Rolling my eyes, I continue, but with ring names. “Doc said Torment had invested heavily in renovations, but I never imagined anything like this.”

“I was blown away too.” Jake nods back toward the entrance. “On that side, he has a CrossFit training room, fitness studios, snack bar, speed and agility facility, video room, equipment shop, lounge, and Doc’s first aid room. There’s also a whole wing that’s still undeveloped. And there isn’t a class he isn’t offering: wrestling, boxing, Muay Thai, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, grappling, general fitness. You name it. He’s got it.”

“It looks more like a secret Special Forces base than just a place to train.”

Jake laughs and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Come see the main attraction.”

Although his gesture is casual at best, I like his arm around my shoulders. His warmth seeps into me, and for a moment, I pretend the last two years never happened and I gave Jake everything he wanted. I gave him me.

We drop our shoes at the door and cross the mats into the center of the warehouse. Where once there was a roughly constructed, elevated ring surrounded by folding chairs and wooden bleachers, there are now two high-tech, solid fight rings with mats and flags emblazoned with the new Team Redemption logo. An octagon-shaped cage sits on a platform a few feet off the floor.

A shiver runs down my spine. Something about that cage makes my toes curl. In a good way.

“Cage fighting too?”

“He can’t run a serious MMA gym without a cage.”

“Do you…cage fight now?”

Jake’s eyes flash. “Yeah. Been practicing for a couple weeks. Always thought I was a ring man, but one taste of the cage and I was hooked. Homicide Hank has been taking me through some basic strategies. The cage can be used as a tool or as a weapon, so it requires a different set of techniques.”

Catching the slightest hitch in his breath, I look up and frown. “Is that why you’re stressed? Because you’re cage fighting tonight?”

His eyes widen as if I just caught him out. “Everyone’s gonna watch me in the cage and decide on my new ring name tonight. My old ring name, ‘Giant Killer,’ was taken by someone else when I was away, and because I’ve got a few fights under my belt now, the guys decided I need a new name. I’m just worried they’re gonna stick me with something humiliating, like Fuzzy.”

“I like the name Fuzzy. It’s cute.”

Jake gives me a look of mock disgust. “The guys gave it to him ’cause he’s such a hard-ass in class and they thought he needed to be taken down a peg. But seriously, in a fight between guys named Torment or Homicide or Blade Saw or even Hammer Fist and a guy named Fuzzy, who do you think will win?”

“The guy who’s so fierce his teammates gave him a cute name to keep his ferocity at bay?”

“Wrong.”

His anxiety is almost palpable, and I try to reassure him as best I can. “I’m sure you won’t have to worry. Once they see the vicious termination machine you are, they’ll be afraid to give you anything but the most fearsome of names.”

Jake laughs and brushes my hair behind my shoulder. “I forgot about your dry sense of humor. But really, I am a vicious termination machine.”

Someone shouts his name and he excuses himself to say hello. I spot Sandy, the once ex of both Jake and Max, climbing into a practice ring and wander over to investigate. Sandy’s platinum hair is piled on her head in a messy haystack and her curvy body is poured into a tight pink sports bra and pink bike shorts. She glares and then whispers to her opponent, Shayla, aka Shilla the Killa, a lean, muscular woman with a short, dark ponytail. They both turn to look at me and giggle. Suddenly I am in middle school all over again.

As they take their places at the corners of the ring, Jake comes up behind me and taps me on the shoulder. “You running away from me again?”

Mortified at the reminder of our break up, I turn to apologize only to catch his lopsided grin.

“I’m still wet.” He points to his hair and a relieved breath whooshes out of me.

The ref blows a whistle, and Shayla throws a right hook at Sandy’s face. I pray she knocks out a few of Sandy’s perfect, white teeth. Aside from scooping up Jake on the rebound after our break-up, a jealous Sandy tweeted a picture of Makayla’s ass when she found out Makayla and Max had hooked up. As Makayla’s best friend, I am duty-bound to hate her vicariously. And I do.