Eventually, I glance at the clock and realize it’s time to get ready and go to the stadium if I want to see Gabe’s fight. Regardless of our personal situation, he is my best friend and I want to be there supporting him for the biggest match of his life. I dress in jeans, but then catch sight of myself in the mirror and can’t help but think “Meh”. I look bland and boring. It’s the biggest night of Gabe’s career and if I’m going to be at his side, I want to look my best. I swap the jeans for a slinky silver dress that hugs my curves. I take a few moments to do my makeup, adding a sweep of bright pink lipstick and some shimmer powder.
I smile at my reflection. Better.
I head to the door. When I open it, a large body sprawls inward. My stomach dips with disbelief, and a light fluttering begins in my chest. I rub a hand over it. He’shere. Outside my apartment. When he should be preparing to face off against Leo Delaney. I’m struggling to get my head around the idea while he leaps to his feet with a catlike grace that belies his size, and gawks at me.
“You—uh—” He stutters. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He reaches for me, but then his hand drops to his side. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
My cheeks heat. “Thank you. I wanted to make an effort.”
“I can tell.” He looks unsure of himself. “Does this mean we can talk?”
My gaze skims down him, cataloging every detail, including the bag at his feet. “You should be at the stadium.”
He shakes his head, his dark eyes never leaving my face. They search my features, and I feel like an insect under a magnifying glass. He’s trying to see into my soul, and it leaves me on edge.
“I’m not going. You’re more important.”
With a sigh, I beg the universe for patience. “That’s very sweet, but you’re going to ruin your career. Not to mention your relationship with your dad.”
He shrugs one massive shoulder and takes a step closer. “Dad and I are good. As for the event? It’ll go on without me. I’m not moving.”
Frustration surges within me. Every bit of annoyance that I’ve ever suppressed roars to the surface, and I march up to him and lay my hands on his chest, fully intending to shove him. But then something unusual happens. My fingers curl into the soft fabric of his sleeveless shirt and hold him there.
“You’re being crazy,” I growl as his enticing male scent wafts over me, leaving me light-headed. He shifts beneath my palms, and I can feel the firm muscles of his chest gliding as his hands go to my hips.
“No, Syd.” His tone is firm, and there’s no mistaking his body language. Staunch. Unmovable. “You’recrazy if you think I’m ever going to rank a stupid fight above you again.” His face tilts closer, his lips only a few inches above mine, which tingle with anticipation, yearning for me to get on with it and close the distance between us. Pressing my lips together doesn’t help, but it draws his focus to my mouth, and he exhales sharply. “I want to kiss you so goddamn much.”
“Please,” I whisper, and I don’t know if I’m begging him not to, or to go ahead and do it.
A shudder runs through him, and he closes his eyes. “I won’t kiss you until I know whether we have a future. I couldn’t stand getting a taste of you only to have you snatched away again. Let me in, baby. Let me fix this.”
God, the way he’s looking at me… Every place his stare lingers, I break out in goosebumps. I’d forgotten how addictive his touch is, and the attraction that explodes between us every time we’re near. Now that we’ve held each other, stroked each other, and experienced overwhelming pleasure in each other’s arms, the connection that’s always simmered between us has become a blazing inferno and I’m almost powerless to resist.
Almost.
But I still have some control, and I exercise it now. “We can talk after your fight.” Sucking in a breath, I hope I’m not making a mistake. “I’m coming with you.”
Gabe
Anticipation thrums in my veins as I let Sydney lead the way out of her apartment, staying close behind her. I’m not stupid enough to give her the opportunity to shut a door in my face. Whatever just passed between us, it felt like progress, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Nerves and excitement jangle inside me and they have nothing to do with the fight—surprisingly, I’m not even pumped about that at all. No, this strange energy crawling over my skin is purely because of the beautiful woman in front of me. Her ass sways as she walks, and fuck, I want to grab it. I know how amazing those curves are in my hands, and that dress—hell, it’s going to be the death of me, but I’ll die happy. What does it mean that she’s wearing it? Because my heart wants to believe that she glammed up to make me proud. Her choice of outfit gives me hope. Why would she bother looking her best if she didn’t want me, deep down?
We get to my motorcycle and I secure my bag in place, then throw one leg over to sit astride it. Sydney slides on behind me, wrapping her arms around my middle, all of her softness pressing into my back. My dick stirs, and when I start the engine, she wriggles even closer, erasing any hint of air between our bodies. I stiffen. I’m eager for this fight to be over so I can finally say everything to her that I need to, and then love her the way she deserves—hard and deep and tender.
The motorcycle lurches forward, and then we’re on our way, buildings blurring past us. Even though I drive carefully because her legs are exposed, it doesn’t take nearly as long as I’d like before we arrive. There’s something blissful about being on your bike with your girl wrapped around you. And yeah, maybe she’s spitting mad, but she’s still my girl, and she promised to hear me out, which buoys me as we park and approach the stadium. A bouncer stands at the rear entrance, and nods as we pass.
Inside, several people hurry toward me, but one glare sends them packing, and Sydney and I make our way—unhindered—down the corridor to the room that’s been reserved for Crown MMA Gym. She doesn’t say a word, but I notice several men checking her out, and I narrow my eyes at them and watch as they duck their heads and scurry away. Satisfaction blasts through me, along with a mantra that plays on repeat in my mind.
Get in, bust heads, claim my girl. Get in, bust heads, claim my girl.
“About fucking time,” Jase snaps as I step into the changing room.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Seth demands, nostrils flaring, face dangerously red. His pale greenish eyes flick to Sydney, and with the way his jaw is twitching, I’m lucky he doesn’t raise his voice at her. In my current mood, I’d probably try to take a chunk out of him, and while I’m younger, there’s no doubt that Iron-Shin Seth Isles could school me in what it means to be an MMA fighter.
“I’m sorry. I had to take care of a few things,” I answer evenly. “I’m sure Dad mentioned it to you.” In the corner, Dad meets my gaze and nods. “I’m here now. Let’s get on with it.”
Seth advances on me, hands fisted at his sides, arms like twin pythons ready to strike. “You don’t get to decide when we get on with something, Gabe. That’s my job. Lucky for you, we’ve still got time to wrap your hands and warm you up before you’re due in the cage.” He jerks his head toward a chair. “Sit.” To Sydney, he says, “Lena is in the second row from the front. She saved you a seat.”
She nods and takes off, accustomed to his brusqueness at times like this. Meanwhile, I sit, meek as a kitten, and wait while he straddles a chair opposite and gets to work on my hands. We don’t speak, the air thick with tension. When he’s done with my right hand, he finally breaks the silence.
