CAMERON

"I've always wondered if there are hostilities after that kind of fight," Anthony says as we all eat.

It's lunch, which Penelope has cooked, and a dessert from someone who stays below this floor.

"The officials make sure there isn't. At the press tour or promo settings, it could get a bit intense, but no one would come haunting after a fight. It's professional," I explain to the man.

"You know there are some opponents that don't give up. Some keep fighting the same persons their whole career to prove a point," says Carl from across the table, facing me.

"That's boring, though. I'd better not," I chuckle at the thought, and he laughs. "Yes, I agree."

The weather has come to be much clearer this afternoon, as the snow outside has melted while through the time we stayed indoors, watching those gripping piles of family pictures.

"So, Cameron, this your upcoming fight..." Penelope starts, but Amy cuts her off instantly. "He's going to crush it," she says, grabbing my hand from under the table and bringing our intertwined hands to her thigh. She gets my eyes locked on her proud, plastered face. "You should see him in the octagon. I used to be disturbed, but surprisingly, he was untouchable in his last fight, and the opponent had remarkable records of wins, but Cam brought him down effortlessly."

"I tried," I say, suppressing my smugness.

Ever since my win, we haven't gotten the proper time to discuss it, so hearing her thoughts about it, of course, is flattering.

"You didn't. You were just so smooth," she looks over, her eyes full of admiration. "It was-it was impressive," she blushes, making it hard for me to look away when she looks unabashedly proud of me with that innocence, which is so fucking hot.

"I watched it," Carl interferes, only then did I take my eyes off Amy's emeralds. "That guy didn't stand a chance. He couldn't even make any contact."

Not bragging, but it's like every other fight I've had. As far as I focus, everything just goes fine.

"You must have a good training team," Anthony remarks, shoving his fork into the salad in front of him.

"Uhm. Yes, Myles, my manager used to be supportive," I reply. Maybe not in terms of strength training, but if you ask me, the credit goes to him.

"Tell them about Gordon Gym," Amy's eyes say she disagrees. She nudges my side, urging me, and then pridefully explains to everyone, "There's this academy in Portland for mixed martial arts, he's got a supportive team, with over five coaches, including who decides what he eats. It's sick."

"Bro, you are a celebrity," I hear Carl's remark, and I look over at him and try to shrug it off. "Every fighter does."

Amy's eyes roll dramatically, dismissing my assertion. "He also does have a weekend training in LA," she goes on, not done boasting about me. It's tough staying collected without smirking.

"So you fly out every weekend to LA freely, like everything's all paid?" Carl's eyes widen.

"Something like that."

"Bro casually says; something like that," he chuckles, setting down the fork and knife in his hands, concentrating fully on me. "Wait, do they give you extra plane seats?"

"I get two chairs," I tell a curious Carl, and then it dawns on me to let Amy know. Slightly leaning, I mutter in her ear, "We will fly to LA a lot," and she grins over at me, a twinkle in her eyes, so enthralling.

Hell, I'm so eager to steal her back to Portland and have her all to myself, without self-restraint in respect to her family's presence.

"I am about to see what's in this LA," she breathes in, exhaling a small excited laugh.

"You are about to see." I winked.

Chewing a smile, I let go of her hand and grab her thigh. Her lips part suddenly, her face a deep hue of red.

"Well, whenever you aren't going, I am just one call away," I hear Carl say, and Amy looks away from me to him, a gentle smile beaming on her beautiful face. The side profile she leaves me to gaze at is so bewitching.

For a minute, I am in a trance, and when I snap out of it, it is my breathing that is loud in my ears. They have definitely lost me from the conversation.

"If you are free this spring, I will have a ticket for you for the main event," I offer to Carl, and he pauses, his eyes almost popping out. "Actually, all of you. I will need all the support I can get," I charmingly tell Penelope and Anthony, who appear content with the idea and are smiling approvingly already.

"For real?" Amy mumbles, flabbergasted.

"Yes, if that's fine with all of you," I await the reply of the people struck by shock and not showing any sign of progress.

"You will come, Mom, right?" Amy cautiously asks, worried in her small voice.

"Of course. We will come cheer for you, Cameron," Penelope beams, and Carl puts forth his knuckles to me. I nudge mine brotherly, and he goes back to eating.

"What state will it happen in?" Anthony curiously asks.

"Abu Dhabi."

Carl almost chokes immediately, putting down the tableware again. "What? We are going to Dubai?"

"That's amazing," Anthony let out, and I nodded at the ecstatic man.

I could feel Amy's stare, so I tilted my head to her, "I didn't know." She said softly.

"They haven't yet printed it on posters, but it's fixed," I inform her, and she smiles lopsidedly.

"Cam, that's crazy."

"Yeah, it is." I smile back at her.

"We will go to Abu Dhabi," she mumbles, but only I hear it.

I know. I am glad I can do it with her by my side.

"Alex will arrange everything. It's on me," I assure the happy faces, and Penelope, with her hands over her mouth, speaks, "That's actually nice of you."

"It's my pleasure."

"I heard their taxes are like zero percent," Anthony intriguingly says, and I nod "Yes," because so I heard from Myles.

"Looking at the budget, the promo tour could be international too," Carl asks me, and I nod, taking a swig of water.

"Is it?" asks Amy, and I set down the cup.

"Yes, the countries are also yet to be listed. But of course, we are going together," I assure her.

"Shut up," she exclaims in joy, cupping her cheeks with her hands, while she silently celebrates.

The whole time, I admiringly watch her.

"What about school, Cam?" she blurts, panic setting in her eyes and a hint of disappointment coating that joy she had for a silver moment.

"Do not worry," I take her hand, stroking her knuckles. "They knew about my school, they will make possible schedules, and you can always return home if something important arises," I promise, observing her recomposing gradually.

"Home?" Amy's mom purrs, and I look over to her, a bit dumbfounded, but she is blushing herself. "I like that," she says.

Amy exhales a happy laugh next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. It is everything in this moment. It feels on top of the world.

"You guys want to come to New York today?" Carl proposes.

Amy pulls back, looking over at me, excitement glowing on her face, "You should. Let's go on the train," she urges.

"Why not?" I shrug, and she grins like the happiest and giddiest girl.

"Yes, you should definitely see New York before you leave," Anthony implies, and I agree.

"You could maybe make up to your mother..."