“So, what’s up?”

I’m not one to beat around the bush, so I tell him. “I’m taking a few days off training.”

His eyebrows draw together and I brace myself for the speech sure to follow. Surprisingly, they relax back to their natural curve. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You need time to recover and if you keep going as hard as you did today, it’ll take too long.” He paused. “Are you and Olivia still fighting?”

I shake my head. “No, we made up. We’re going to California tomorrow to see Mom.”

Darryl’s eyebrows pull closer to the middle of his forehead again. “Are you sure that’s a good idea so close to a fight? You know how your mother is. You’ve barely been anxious since she left.”

“I’m not letting her out, Darryl, I’m only going to see her to see if she’s made progress.” And because every morning I wake up and she’s not in the house, I feel like the biggest asshole in the world. Support, that’s all she needs, but I don’t have time to look after her and me, not now that I’m in the pros. When the season ends, I’ll contemplate signing her release. “And I want Mom and Olivia to spend some time together.”

“Has your mother even met Olivia?”

I nod, almost cringing at the memory. Mom had been drunk on both occasions—calling Olivia by another girl’s name. “I doubt she remembers, but yes.”

“As long as you rest, I don’t see the harm in going to California. We’re leaving for Vegas in two days and tomorrow morning, we have a meeting with the authorities and the MMAC to discuss suing Don and—”

“I don’t want to sue him.”

He inches closer to me. “You don’t want to sue him?”

“I don’t want his money. I want him out of fighting—for good. I don’t want him to have the balls to even look at a glove, ever again.”

Darryl rubs his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “They’re not going to go for that, they’ve had their eyes on Don for a while. He’s a good fighter, Seth, one that the company can benefit from.”

There’s no contest and I won’t budge. “Don will never fight in the MMAC again and I won’t tolerate anything less.”

“And if they don’t give you what you want?”

I shift my weight. “We were attacked outside our gym, unprovoked and unaware. They’ll give me exactly what I ask for.”

Darryl shakes his head. “You’ve yet to have your first fight and you’re already threatening your employers.”

I smile. “What can I say? I’m one of a kind.”

“That’s for sure.”

My phone buzzes with a text message and I pull it from my pocket to take a look.

FROM: JACKSON. TIME: 8:00P.M

Flights booked. You leave day after tomorrow @ 5 a.m.

I slip my phone back into my pocket. “What time is the meeting?”

“Nine a.m.”

“All right, I’ll see you then.”

He extends his hand to me and I put mine in his. His long fingers clasp mine in a firm grip and he tugs me forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“See you tomorrow.” He releases me. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find the right time to propose to Olivia in California.”

I straighten myself in my chair and grip my door. “Maybe.”

The thought alone sends dread spiraling through my stomach. I’m freaking out over a question I’m sure she’ll say yes to. A question…that’s all it is. It’s strange how something as small as talking can have me paralyzed with fear. I close my door and start my car. Chatting to Darryl didn’t take as long as I expected. I can tell he needs a break, he seems tired, and a day or two should be plenty of time to refresh his body and mind. I didn’t take it easy on him today—especially after last night—and I still haven’t apologized for getting pissed off at him, but I don’t have to. He won’t accept an apology. They make him uncomfortable. He prefers to forgive and forget with no heartfelt exchanges. That’s just who he is.

I contemplate going back to Olivia’s house. Knowing her mom is out until God knows when is tempting…holding Olivia is tempting too, but I need sleep and I’d never get my much needed sleep in a bed with someone like her—not until I exhaust every opening and every position.

I pull out of Darryl’s street, unsure where to go. I turn right, in the direction of Olivia’s house. Ignoring the ‘don’t text and drive’ sign I pass, I retrieve my phone from my pocket and send her a text message.

TO: OLIVIA. TIME: 8:11 P.M.

Go home or come to yours?

A few minutes later, she replies. And what a reply it is. I’d set the image she just sent me as my wallpaper, but such naked perfection is only meant for me. There’s a caption too:

You decide.

In the picture, her dark hair is wet and it drapes down her glistening chest, barely settling above her gorgeous, pink nipples. I want to see her bottom half—I want to see water glisten on the other parts of her body. The parts I’d lick over and over without hesitation. That is my idea of heaven. Now, I’m glad I turned right instead of left toward my house. Dropping my gaze to my phone routinely, I text back.

TO: OLIVIA. TIME: 8:18 P.M.

On my way. Don’t you dare move.

I drop my phone into the center console and press a little harder on the accelerator. I don’t think I can get there fast enough.

***

(T-minus three days until Las Vegas)

I enter the gym with Darryl hot on my heels.

“I can’t believe you’re late—even after I told you we had a meeting this morning.”

I hear the annoyance in his steps and I zone it out. I’m not that late—twenty minutes, give or take a few. He follows me up the stairs, past the office and into the meeting room—the only room in this entire building I haven’t been in.

A long, varnished wooden table complete with big (and no doubt comfortable) chairs. It’s very corporate compared to the old school styling outside of this room. My eyes drag over the men and woman sitting before me. They don’t seem bothered that I’m late. Then again, with ‘suits’ you can never really tell. They have their poker faces perfected.

Darryl steps by me and into the room. “Gentlemen…” he clears his throat. “…and lady.”

The caramel haired woman with the large whiskey eyes nods at him, acknowledging his correction. As Darryl goes back to addressing them, her eyes flick to me and I know that look. Her eyes are glossy, her cheeks slightly flushed. Lust. I’ve seen it a million times and it doesn’t really come any clearer than that. I think she’s attractive. I like the way her hair is pulled back into a loose bun and I like her tight business dress, but the look on her face doesn’t make my stomach clench. I don’t want whiskey colored eyes looking at me from underneath slack, aroused eyelids. I want green…I want long chocolate hair and perky, natural breasts. Olivia. I want her, no one else.

“Where are we standing on the decision?” I ask.

Darryl steps to the side and I drop into the chair at the head of the table.

“Well, we’ve come to an agreement with Don’s lawyers.”

Thomas, MMAC’s best lawyer replies, “They’re willing to pay a substantial amount of money to stop this from escalating.”

I sit forward in my chair, resting my elbows on the table. “I don’t want his money.”

Thomas’s thick, dark eyebrows furrow. “Your trainer told us—”

Darryl sighs, cutting him off and sitting in a spare chair. “Forget what I said. Seth has his own idea about the outcome of this case.”

Thomas knows exactly what I want and the stress on his face tells me he doesn’t want to go that way.

“What do you want, Seth?” the woman asks, slipping the end of her pen between her lips.

She knows what she’s doing and I’m sure many others have fallen for that whole ‘sex kitten’ vibe. Shit. I would have months ago.

“I don’t want a single dime from him. I want him gone. No more competitions, no more training, and no more fights.”

Thomas pulls his glasses down the bridge of his nose and off his face, before his beady blue eyes zero in on me.

“With all due respect, Mr. Marc—”

“Seth,” I correct him. Mr. Marc sounds weird.

“Seth, sorry. The MMAC is in need of good fighters. Don Russell is our number two choice—second to you. He’s an asset we’d like to possess when he’s earned it.”

“You want someone like him to represent the MMAC? Look at my face.” I rise to my feet and tug my shirt up, exposing my darkened ribs. “Look at my ribs. He isn’t a fighter. He’s a fucking pussy.”

The young guy next to Thomas shifts in his seat and leans closer to mutter something into his ear. When he pulls away, Thomas clears his throat. “I understand there was an incident in Boston during the amateur tournament…you hit Mr. Russell in the face?”

I don’t let my eyes waver from him. How does he know that? I thought the tapes were gone? I lower myself back into my seat. “You’re going to have to refresh my memory.”

As Thomas glances down, I steal a look at Darryl, whose face is locked on me. He seems just as surprised.

“Mr. Russell’s lawyers have informed us that you attacked him and his lady friend at the Polaris gentlemen’s club in Boston.”

Lady friend? I think for a moment and it isn’t until Darryl laughs once under his breath I realize he’s talking about Olivia.

“Lady friend? Is that what he called her?” I shake my head. “Don was sexually harassing my girl. I didn’t attack him for no reason. I was protecting her.”

“Regardless of what she was to you—”

“Is,” I interrupt.

“Hm?”

“Is,” I say again. “What she is to me. She’s still mine.”

I say it with a hell of a lot more possession than I intend.

“My mistake,” he replies, worried he’s overstepped a boundary. “Regardless of what she is to you, you broke the rules and he looked the other way. Don’s lawyers and the MMAC are asking you to do the same, and they’re offering you a substantial amount of money for it.”

I snap. “Rolling over and letting Don Russell fuck me in the ass is not something I’m willing to do.”

I won’t budge. Never in a million years will I ever look weak in his eyes again. He will learn to fucking fear me. Thomas and the MMAC lawyers watch me with excitement. They enjoy the rivalry, but I don’t want them getting any ideas about a rematch. He doesn’t deserve to be in the same ring as me.

Exhaling, Thomas shuts his folder. “We’ll have to do another hearing with his lawyers. You have rights and we don’t want to take them away from you, but think about it. Having Don in the MMAC will benefit you immensely.”

I don’t reply. I think I’ve said enough and I’m sick of repeating myself.

They trail out of the room, one after the other until there’s no one left but Darryl and I.

“He’s right,” Darryl announces after a few long seconds, leaning forward on his elbows. “Having Don in the MMAC will be good for your career. Spectators love rivals—it excites them.”

“My rivals don’t begin and end with Don. I’ve pissed off a lot of people—I piss off Junior Moset all the time.”

He shrugs. “That’s not rivalry. That’s a little cocky banter. As far as I know, you haven’t slept with his girlfriend. No one hates you like you Don hates you.” Darryl laughs loudly, making me smile. “And he hates you so fucking much.”

I shift in my seat. “He has to go. I want to humiliate him—to break him into tiny little pieces.”

“And the ring is the perfect place to do it. You’re in the pros now. Every fight you’re in will be broadcast to millions of viewers. You’ve beat Don before. Do it again. Do it over and over until he begs you to leave him alone.”

I lean back in my chair. I was right about them being comfortable, that’s for sure. “You don’t understand. It isn’t about beating him anymore. I’ve done that. It’s about closing old chapters and moving forward. I don’t want Don in the MMAC because I’m in the MMAC, which means Olivia will see him frequently. She knows why Don hates me, and I don’t want her to get hurt because of something I did before I met her.”

“So this is about Olivia?”

I begin to nod, but change my mind and start to shake my head. “It’s about moving forward. I’ve changed and I don’t want to be associated with the person I used to be.”

Darryl sighs. “They’re not going to give you what you want. You know that, right?”

I know that and I fucking hate it.

“Call my lawyers and have them call the MMAC. They need to be reminded of the rules. Don is out.”

Chapter Ten

Olivia

My car rolls to a stop outside Seth’s house. Thankfully, neither Jackson nor Selena’s car is at the front and I’m hoping they’ve gone somewhere else for the night. Seth has told me all about his lovely plan for us—dinner by the pool, wine, and a swim. I’m excited. My blood flows rapidly through my veins, causing my head to spin like I’ve already ingested alcohol. I didn’t bring anything to swim in—I did it on purpose, too. I’ve never swum naked before in my life, even when Selena insisted it was cool and routinely did it in her pool. For me, being naked in a swimming pool just isn’t something that I’m into—not until now, that is. I slip from the car and approach the front door. I tug on the hem of my dress, hating that I chose to wear something so short and skipping on the underwear. It barely hits mid-thigh and I feel the loose, flowing fabric sweep across my backside. The dress is a nice royal blue and cuts low, exposing the sides of my breasts. I bought the dress two days ago. A little while back, Seth and I went shopping. He really liked the dress, but I insisted it was too ‘out there.’ I went back the next day and bought it, hoping we’d have a secluded moment so I could wear it for him. I decided to wear my hair up in a messy bun tonight, too. If there’s one thing I hate about swimming pools, it’s getting chlorine in my hair. It makes it go all dry and stringy—not sexy, at all.