The bell rang and Jacob and O’Reilly went to opposite sides of the ring. Someone handed Jacob a towel but it didn’t seem to help stop the bleeding. Gigi walked across the ring holding a sign for round two.

The bell rang again and Jacob and O’Reilly stepped back toward center ring. The smiles they were wearing earlier were gone. It looked like they were going to kill each other.

O’Reilly swung again, but this time Jacob was paying attention. He dodged out of the way.

I cringed as O’Reilly threw another punch. But his fist missed again.

Jacob jumped up and down. He hit his gloves together and cracked his neck to the side. It looked like he was only just about to take this seriously.

O’Reilly lunged again but Jacob danced out of the way. And then Jacob landed a hard punch across O’Reilly’s ear. Before O’Reilly could react, Jacob threw an uppercut, his glove colliding with O’Reilly’s chin.

O’Reilly stumbled backward and fell off the side of the ring.

Oh my God.

The bell dinged and Jacob lifted his arms up into the air.

“Miller! Miller! Miller!” Everyone started chanting. I just watched in horror as the blood on his cheek dribbled down his chin, landing on his chest.

Jacob.

Some guys were already helping O’Reilly to his feet. He seemed okay. Not that I really cared. He’d been taking such cheap shots.

Jacob wiped his face off with a towel and hopped off the side of the ring. He shook O’Reilly’s hand.

“See,” Sophie said. “He’s fine.”

“He’s not fine! Do you not see his face?! He’s bleeding.”

“He really seems okay to me,” Sophie said and pointed to him running up the stands toward us. Jacob had a huge smile on his face as he scooted past the few people in his way.

Sophie slid to the side so he could sit between us.

“Awesome match,” Sophie said.

“Thanks.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he turned to me.

I knew he was smiling. But I was still worried. “Jacob, are you okay? You got hit really hard…”

“Did you not see the other guy?” he said with a laugh.

“Jacob, it’s not funny.” I lightly touched beneath this cut. “This gash looks pretty deep. Should we go to the emergency room?”

His eyes searched mine. “I’m okay, Scarlett.”

“Are you sure? What if you need stitches?”

“Stitches?” He laughed. “It’s barely a cut.”

I think he’d believe me if he looked in the mirror. I grabbed the towel that was draped across his shoulders and gently blotted the cut.

He winced.

“See. It’s worse than you realize. I really think we need to at least get this cleaned off…”