“Thanks, Cobes,” I say.
“Mm-hmm.” Her mock glare evaporates as she finally takes a good look at me. “Holy crap, Jag.” She frowns. “I heard you were in a fight, but like…yikes.” Her frown deepens. “How’s your face?”
“I’m good.”
Her eyes thin, and I know she wants to call me out for lying. Instead, she shakes it off and glances at Violet. “I don’t know how you let him fight like this.”
“Jagger?” Violet questions. Sliding off the stool, she rounds the granite island and wraps her arms around my waist. “Clearly, you haven’t been home in a while because from what I’ve learned, no oneletsJagger do anything. He does what he wants, even when it’s dangerous.” She tacks on a pointed look directed at me. “You don’t take orders from anyone.”
She’s right. With one exception. I twist in her grasp until we’re chest to chest. “I think you might be surprised.”
Intrigue shines in her pretty gaze as she drags her fingernails gently along my lower back. “Oh?”
“Last night, you had more say than you know.”
With a shy smile, Violet lifts her chin, and I kiss her softly. And carefully. Because the throbbing in my eye socket? Yeah, it’s moved to my mouth, too. Those painkillers can’t kick in quick enough.
“Okay, love birds,” Cobie interjects. “Enough kissy faces. You’re making me sick.”
Violet laughs, but her heels hit the ground nonetheless, ending the kiss and any opening of us continuing.
“Wait, do you guys hear that?” Cobie asks. She cocks her head to one side.
My brows furrow as I listen for whatever my little sister might be referring to. “Huh?”
“Is someone’s phone ringing?” Violet asks.
“Be right back.” Cobie places the last pancake onto the small stack beside the bacon, shuts off the burner, and runs up the stairs.
Realizing we’re finally alone, Violet turns back to me, her expression morphing from carefree to a possessive mama bear in a flash. “Okay, for real, though.” Concern saturates her tone as she eyes me warily. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, why?”
“Because your face looks like someone took a baseball bat to it.” Gently, she reaches up and drags her fingers along my brow, down the bridge of my nose, and finally skims my bottom lip. “You okay, Jag?”
“Already said I was fine,” I remind her.
Her lips purse. “Maybe I don’t believe you.” I swear I can see the wheels turning in her pretty little head. And the guilt. I can see that, too. Lifting my hand, I circle her wrist and remove her touch, hoping it’ll snap her out of her deprecating thoughts. “Jag…”
I kiss her open palm. “I’m fine, Vi.”
She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry?—”
“Don’t even think about apologizing,” I growl.
“Yeah, but…I don’t know.” Her shoulders fall. “I can’t help but wonder how tonight would’ve gone if I’d caught on to your…plan or whatever a little faster. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to take so many hits during the first couple of rounds.”
My mouth curves up. Fuck, I love this girl. The way she cares about me. Feels for me. Carries the weight with me even if it’s misplaced. If I’ve learned anything from this mess, it’s this. She’s my ride or die, and there’s nothing in this world that can change it. “I’ll always take a few hits, Little Thief.”
And it’s true. I’m a fighter. I enjoy being in the ring. I crave taking people to the mat. I relish the adrenaline and the crowds and the sounds and the release it gives me. And I know it makesshit hard for her. Having to see someone she loves take a punch or two. But just because I might not ever fight Morgan again doesn’t mean I’m never stepping back into the ring.
She knows that, doesn’t she?
“I know you’re not going to stop fighting anytime soon,” she tells me, reading me like a damn book in a way only she knows how. “I meant what I said to your sister. No one can control you, and even though you said I’m the exception, I have no intention of asking you to stop fighting for me. You love it, and I love that you love it,” she clarifies. “But knowing you took these hits for me…” Her lips bunch on one side, and her gaze drops to the ground. “It’s kind of a hard pill to swallow.”
I grab her chin and urge her to look at me. “If I had to fight Morgan every day for the rest of my life in order to keep you, I’d do it.”
“I know you would.” She kisses me. “I do. I know you would,” she repeats. “It’s just…scary. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, Jagger. And then, adding in the way Roman swooped in last night, and…” Another coat of concern paints her expression. “Tell me you’re okay. You and your brothers and…Gus or…whatever.”
