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She lets out a laugh, the sound bitter, as more tears fall. I’ve never heard her like this and I hate it. “What happened? Well… I was approached at the fight…”

“By who?” I ask, cutting her off.

Motherfucker.

Was it Owen?

Did that big fucking idiot decide to test my patience and corner her again.

I swear to God, I will hunt that bastard down and kill him.

If he put my girl, my beautiful sunshine girl, in this state, I will end him.

“Your ex-girlfriend,” Lennon mutters and the pain in her voice pierces me through my chest. “She had a lot of interesting things to say.”

What?

My brows furrow. “My ex?”

I don’t have a fucking ex-girlfriend.

At least, not for a long fucking time.

“Yep,” she continues, staring at the ceiling and the tears have slowed but not stopped. I shake my head, studying her.

“Baby,” I say, reaching for her again. This time she lets me cradle her cheek in my hand. “I don’t have an ex-girlfriend.”

She turns to me finally. The pure agony is her hazel eyes fucking unraveling me.

Oh, baby.

Everything in me is screaming to pull her into my arms and hold her but she doesn’t want that right now and that hurts worse than any fucking hit I’ve ever taken in the ring.

Lennon always wants my touch.

Always.

“She said that three weeks ago, she was in my place. With you the way I am now.”

“No,” I growl, shaking my head and holding her gaze so she can see the truth of my words. “No one has ever been in your place, Lennon. No one.”

There hasn’t been a single woman in my life who has gotten as close to me or made me feel the way Lennon does.

They don’t compare.

They can’t even come close.

Wait…

Three weeks ago?

“Leigh-Ann?” I mutter and Lennon lets out something between a laugh and a cry.

“Oh,” she whispers, turning back to the ceiling. “Is that her name? She never got around to mentioning that part.”

Fuck.

Leigh-Ann was at the fight.