I wiped sweat out of my eyes and squared off again. His body was lean and tall with fast reflexes, a testament to his fighting name, and I eyed him carefully, looking for chinks in his armor.

Earlier, he’d arrived in a Mercedes and had stepped out with a smirk on his face as he’d taken in the surrounding seedy area. A pretty girl had been on each arm as he’d stalked around the street like he owned the place. Cocky bastard.

I darted in and hit him with a strike to the upper thighs. He grunted and snapped back with a quick two-handed jab. I blocked them with my forearms and retreated, but he followed, still on the offensive, his elbow snapping up to catch my clavicle. I grunted and retaliated with a sideways hammer-fist strike to his gut.

Whoosh . He bent over gasping.

He got his breath and came at me again, but I blocked him. He’d grown sluggish, telegraphing his moves big time. He needed more training, and I watched the frustration grow on his face as I played with him, moving in for a quick jab and then bouncing back out of the way.

He punched at me and I ducked. He swung again, his breath winded.

That’s right, pretty boy, wear yourself out .

I bounced around him and smirked.

“Kick his Dirty English ass, Snake!” one of his friends called out. “I got big money riding on this!”

“Go back to Duke, you utter twats,” Dax yelled back at them, not to be outdone. Dax’s frat brothers agreed.

I kicked Snake in the other leg and sent him reeling. He fell against one of the steel columns that supported the warehouse.

His eyes blinked. Once, twice.

Shit.

“You ready to call this?” I panted.

He grunted, his face set in a grimace as he staggered around me.

“We can end this right now.”

“Fuck you,” he said, slinging sweat-soaked hair out of his face.

“Your funeral,” I said and raised my fists up.

But Snake was distracted by something in the crowd. I followed his eyes across the warehouse to see him watching one of the girls he’d arrived with. She’d apparently slipped over to a new guy, and they’d moved to an area against a back wall to kiss. Tongue action ensued. Hands rushed and roamed under shirts and down pants. They’d be shagging soon.

I looked back at my opponent, watching his face redden.

The bloody wanker was distracted by a girl who obviously didn’t give a shit about him.

I grunted. Another reason I needed to avoid Elizabeth , I reminded myself.

“Focus. Let’s do this,” I snapped at Snake with a slap on the upper arm, and he turned back to face me, eyes wild.

My words spurred him into action.

He came at me again, both hands up and ready. With moves faster than I’d anticipated, he landed a strike to my spleen. I stumbled away from him to get my breath back. Fuck. No more trash-talking.

“Snake! Snake! Snake!” his friends chanted.

“Dir-ty Eng-lish! Dir-ty Eng-lish!” my side of the room called.

He inhaled a deep breath and flew at me, but I read his move and turned my body sideways and kicked out in a thrusting, snapping motion, the outside of my right foot aiming for his chest. He went down like a slow-moving boulder, arms splayed out and legs spread as he hit the ground.

He’d never had a chance with the girl distracting him, although I would have defeated him either way. She just made it quicker.

He moaned, and I knew he wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

I walked over to him. Checked his eyes, his breathing.

“You done?” I asked.

Glazed eyes looked up at me. “Yeah.”

I waved for Nick to come and call it. A slick guy who wore a three-piece suit each time I saw him, he’d been setting up street fights in North Carolina for the past two years.

I looked back at Snake. “Keep a watch on your head, and if you have any headaches, see a doctor.” It went unsaid that he’d have to lie about how he was injured. “And a word of advice, leave the girl at home next time.”

He groaned and turned away as one of his mates came over and helped him to his feet. They stumbled away from me and out the metal doors.

Trouble. That’s what girls were, right?

No way in hell would I ever let a girl distract me.

I took the cash Nick and Max counted out. This was all that mattered.

BY THE END of the first week of school I was back in the routine of going to class, working at the bookstore, and studying like crazy. I was off to a good start except I couldn’t stop thinking about Colby being at Whitman. I looked for him everywhere now. In the grocery. In the parking lot. Outside my door?