She knows her reputation. Of course she does.
And she’s seen pictures. Of course she has.
But she’s never been booked for a fight the same night as the famed Alex Danvers, though she’s always wanted to be.
Until tonight.
Until tonight, when she’s told that she’ll have the opportunity to make more money in one night than she usually does in a month.
Because this is the match up of the year.
Maggie Sawyer versus Alex Danvers.
She’s heard rumors that Danvers got into the game when her father went missing and her kid sister needed extra cash to help with college.
She wonders what rumors Danvers has heard about her.
About the schools she’s been kicked out of and the way her parents threw her out.
About the way she fights like she’ll lose everything if she gets knocked out, because every single time, that’s how it feels.
About the way she casually befriends most of the women she knocks out in the cage, because it’s all about being a good sport, isn’t it?
But the rumors – rumors about the way Danvers fights with more mind than body, fights with more rage than technique – have nothing on the way this woman looks when Maggie steps out into the crowded, underground arena to see her opponent standing, barely wearing a thing, bouncing on the balls of her feet and loosening up her neck.
“Fuck,” Maggie murmurs to herself, because goddamn, this woman is a vision.
Her expression is focused, concentrated, determined. Take-no-prisoners. Somehow, at the same time, her expression is haughty, almost bored.
But then, Danvers turns.
She turns, and her eyes catch Maggie’s eyes.
And then they do a quick once-over of Maggie’s body.
And her expression flickers.
Flickers to something like shock and something like awe and something like raw, pure want.
The expression on Danvers’s face vanishes almost as soon as it appears, but then Maggie smirks.
She smirks, and it seems to shatter all the pretenses Danvers has.
The crowd roars as she strolls toward her, grin firmly in place, hand out.
“Danvers,” she greets, and she’s surprised when Alex bites her lip at the sound of her voice.
Surprised and very, very turned on.
“Sawyer. Your reputation precedes you,” Danvers returns, and it doesn’t escape Maggie’s notice that they’re more holding hands than shaking hands at this point.
“Does it?” Maggie asks, letting her eyes drift down Alex’s body slowly, slowly, slowly.
She forgets the crowd and she forgets the sponsorship money and she forgets… well, everything.
She wonders if she could get lost in this woman, and if she would mind it at all.
“It does. Dinner after the bout? On me if you win, on you if I do.”
“Oh, so you’re definitely buying,” Maggie smirks, and Alex shrugs.
“We’ll see. But I feel like I’ll be winning either way.”
She gives Maggie a look that sends heat straight through her body, and she’s pretty sure Alex has a point; win or lose the fight, tonight feels like it’ll be about winning for both of them.