“Hey. Did I miss anything?”
“No,” I tell him. “It just started.”
“Great. I’ve got five k on Romeo taking him down before the end of the fourth round.”
We never use Roman’s real name here. I quirk an eyebrow. “Does he know that?”
He grins at me. “He had me put ten grand down on that.”
“Jesus,” I whistle through my teeth and turn back to watch. The two go back and forth, trading blows and moving around with ease, all the while the crowd shouts and jeers, vying for a better view and screaming what they want their guy to do to the other. Roman barely has a mark on him, but Diego is already bleeding from his lip, and his left eye is swelling up. The bell rings, and the two fighters pull apart, sweaty and breathing heavily.
Roman comes over to us to make sure we’re okay, checking on both me and Braelyn before he heads back into the ring for more. He doesn’t sip water. He doesn’t get any abrasions checked. For such a beast of a man, such a brutal fighter, he’s one of the most loyal and tender guys I know.
Diego charges, raging, giving Roman everything he’s got. But he’s no match for him. Roman knocks him down in the second and third rounds and knocks him out in the fourth. Just like he and Hayes bet. And if I know Roman, he designed it exactly that way.
After it’s all over and Roman is declared the victor, we pull him off to an empty room save for a dirty table and a few folding chairs. Braelyn and I, ever the nurses that we are, get Roman patched up. We remove the bloody tape from his hands and clean up the cuts and abrasions on his fists and knuckles as well as a small laceration on his upper cheek.
“You kicked ass,” I tell him, dabbing some ointment on his cut that’s hardly even bleeding now.
“Thanks. It was a fun one, I guess.”
“Bored already?” I tease.
He shrugs. “It’s good exercise.”
I snort and roll my eyes at him.
“I’m glad you came. I know these aren’t your favorites.”
“They’re not,” I agree. “But I’m glad I came too. Even if I’m not sure my blood pressure can handle another. How do you not get arrested?”
“You obviously didn’t see the chief of police placing bets with the district attorney then, did you?”
I sigh, and he laughs.
“He’s Romeo,” Hayes states. “I don’t think you can arrest him. His restaurants alone are too popular for that. No one wants the prince to fall.” Roman is a Michelin-starred top chef with a very popular chain of restaurants in the city as well as in Vegas, Paris, and London. With his Fritz name—and let’s face it, his good looks—networks have been trying to get him to do a TV series. He’s refused. His boxing career is likely a reason for that.
He smirks and kisses my cheek. “Go home, Sky. You look beat.”
I snort. “Is that meant to be ironic?”
His lips bounce. “Yes. But you do look tired. Hayes and I will make sure Braelyn gets home safely.”
They each hug me, but Hayes walks me to my car. After all, we are at a warehouse at midnight. “Hey, I leave for Paris tomorrow night, but I’ll be back this weekend for your wedding party.”
I point at him. “You better be,” I warn. “What’s up in Paris? You haven’t had to go there in a while.” Hayes has been slowly taking over Monroe Fashions from his parents, who own the fashion empire. My cousin Serena works for them in Paris.
“Just some production and design stuff. I’ll say hi to your cousin for you.”
“Please do. Safe flight.” I reach up onto my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
I say goodnight to him, more than a little exhausted, and climb into my car.
The drive isn’t all that long with the light traffic, but it’s all I can do to stay awake, my mind more than a little fuzzy, and when I pull into the driveway, I blow out a long, silent breath followed by a hell of a yawn. I unlock the door and go upstairs, finding my way through the darkness.
I open the door to my bedroom and immediately strip out of my clothes. My shoes, jeans, and sweater hit the floor in a heap, my eyes already half-closed as I take off my bra. My phone is in my purse, and I know I need to plug it in. Hell, for that matter, I need to brush my teeth. But I’m not sure I have either effort in me.
I pull back the blanket so I can climb under the sheets. A strange noise tickles my ears, but it doesn’t stop me from getting into bed and— “Ah! Oh my god!”
