Page 79 of The Knockout Rule

He chuckled, loving everything about this. Them. The easy banter. Like he had an instant family of his own. Which made their next conversation all the harder. “Come sit for a sec.”

She walked over and fell onto the couch beside him. “How go your studies?”

“Good, but I need to talk to you about something.”

She leaned away from him and narrowed her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not into furry kink. If you want to attend an orgy dressed like a stuffed bunny, I’m out.”

He laughed harder and grabbed her hips, manhandling her until she was on his lap. “Even if I’m dressed like a sexy wolf?”

“Especially then. But a pink, sparkly unicorn might do it for me.”

“Halloween this year will be fun.” He kissed her, soft but deep, and pressed his forehead to hers. “My match is in seven days.”

Smile slipping, she cuddled closer. “I know.”

“It’s an intense time for me. I need my focus to be undivided.”

She didn’t speak, just held on to him, their foreheads connected.

“As much as I love having you stay with me every night,” he went on, “I need to be on my own for this. No distractions. I get pretty intense in the days leading up to a fight, and I don’t want to worry about hurting you by being rude or not giving you the attention you deserve. We’ll still see each other during the physio sessions, but even then, I’ll probably be less social. More in my head.” She stiffened in his hold. He talked faster. “This isn’t me pushing you away. It’s just—”

“The boxer in you. Yeah, I know. I lived with one for most of my life. I know the drill. It’s fine. I get it.” But her chest was rising faster and she pushed at him, trying to move off his lap.

He eased her off. Felt sick watching what looked like another panic attack rise. He hated feeling helpless while she struggled with an invisible demon. He whistled for Whit, who waddled right over to Isla, mashed his face into her shins. She pressed her hand to her sternum, closed her eyes. She hadn’t talked much about the new techniques her therapist had suggested, but as Whit nuzzled her and she did whatever it was she was doing, her breathing seemed to deepen. Her shoulders dropped slightly.

His racing heart wouldn’t slow.

On her next inhale, she opened her eyes. “That wasn’t too bad, as far as attacks go. I’m practically cured.” She laughed thinly.

He wasn’t fooled. The woman hated showing weakness, like her father. “Isla, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. My issues go much deeper than boxing.”

“But I’m the one causing you pain now.”

She shook her head, let her hands sink into the wrinkly skin at Whit’s neck. “When I was out with Preston and you spoke through him, you said love is hard, but anything hard is worthwhile.” She looked at Eric. Her skin was still flushed, but her dark eyes were fierce. “You’re worthwhile, Eric. And I’m fine with spending the week apart. I won’t get offended if you’re quiet during physio, and I won’t sneak into your room at night. I’ll miss you, but it’s probably better for me to be around you less as your match nears. I won’t watch the fight, though. I wish I could be there for you, but…” She dropped her gaze.

He moved closer to her on the couch, ran his fingers through her wavy hair. “I understand. I’d probably worry too much if you were there anyway. And I still hate that I’m the source of your attacks.”

She turned her head, kissed the center of his palm. “‘The door to the heart moves in both directions. Step forward or step back. The choice is yours.’” It was a poem, spoken softly against his skin.

“The heart is fickle and changes its mind?” he asked, suggesting his interpretation of the prose. A possible meaning he didn’t like. Was she preparing him? Telling him she might change her mind? That enduring this week might make her realize he wasn’t worth her pain after all?

“The heart can hold more than we give it credit for,” she said and took his hand, kissing each of his fingers. “There’s a door that will always swing inside of me, linking my past and present. For so long, I followed it backward. I allowed my past to control my direction. Now I’m moving forward, but that link will always be there. There’s no protecting me from my issues. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who chooses to walk forward, even though that door hits me in the ass sometimes as I go through.”

She was so incredibly impressive. Smaller than him, but miles stronger. “Mea levavot ihiyu meat midai kdei lehakhil et kol ha`ahava sheli elaikh,” he murmured.

Her face softened with affection. “Is that Hebrew?”

He nodded. “A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you.”

There was his favorite look again. The one that said you’re fantastic. “You can’t say romantic things like that when I have to go seven days without kissing you.”

The next week would be painful, no doubt. But he was accustomed to denying himself, and there was one loophole. “The seven days can start after this morning, if you’re feeling up for being devoured right now.” He ached to have his mouth on her, one more taste to get him through.

She fisted her hand in the front of his T-shirt, dragged him with her as she lay back on the couch. “This better be earth shattering to last seven days.”

He nipped her ear. “I’ll take that challenge. And when I win the fight, this will all be over. No more boxing to stress you out.”