Seth

 

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Olivia catches her sexy, plump lip between her teeth. Dammit! One… Two… Three… Four… she bends to pick something off of the floor and I see right down her top. Those breasts… the same breasts I had pressed against the shower wall last night. I shake my head and start my count from the beginning. Fuck it. What’s the point? I’ve been counting my steps as I jog on the treadmill in order to distract myself from Olivia. When I work out I work myself up in more ways than one and I’m not about to have her in the shower room, not when Don is set to start his training after me. I was going to ask Olivia not to come to training this morning, but she bounced out of the bathroom looking all cute and shit in her tiny black shorts and loose pink tank top. She likes being here. She likes watching me and feeling like she’s a part of this. It’s nice. I like that it makes her happy and when she’s happy, I’m happy.

 

“Seth!” Darryl shouts from across the room, pulling me from my thoughts. I slow my treadmill down to a stroll and hit stop. I walk it out, until the belt stops moving.

 

“Cage, now,” he demands, and with a nod, I step off the treadmill.

 

I grab my towel and wipe off my face as Darryl nods to Jackson, who puts on his head gear and gloves and bounds up the stairs into the cage. I cross the gym, stepping over kettle bells and stray bags of sand. I take my gloves, ignoring the head gear as Darryl shakes his head, tossing the gear over his shoulder.

 

“You’re not going to get hit,” he sighs. “I get it.”

 

I playfully jab his shoulder and join Jackson in the cage. I shake my arms, loosening the muscles. Jackson is good—easily the hardest sparrer I have. I’ve always told him to join MMA, but he doesn’t fight anymore. He used to. It was our plan to be in the MMAC together, but after all of the shit with Amelia, he lost himself. According to him, he got in too many fights because of her and now the thought of fighting puts him on edge. These days, he helps me achieve my dream while abandoning his own.

 

“I’m not going to go easy on you, pretty boy.” Jackson laughs, bringing up his fists. “Play time is over.”

 

I laugh. Pretty boy? That’s awfully rich, coming from him. “Good. It’s about time you step up your training routine. I was starting to get bored.”

 

I peer at Olivia, who’s standing by Darryl’s side. They’re engaged in a conversation, her lips are pinched together and she shakes her head, pointing a finger at his chest. The clear determination on her face is sexy… I love it when she’s fierce and I hope she’s telling Darryl off for yesterday. If he has a problem with my training, he should come to me, not go through her. He always goes through her, putting her in tough situations.

 

“Hands up,” Jackson orders, and I bring my attention back to the cage. I comply. I’m in the mood for sparring today—especially after the interview with Don yesterday. I glance at the large, steel clock. I have forty minutes until Don and his team comes through the doors. I want to be out of here before then. I figure the best way to keep him out of my head is to avoid him and his snarky comments until fight night.

 

I barely settle in my stance before Jackson throws his fists, letting them fly like never before. Most I manage to block, but a stray few connect with my sides. By the end of it, I feel bruised and I ache all over. As I rest my hands on my hips, Jackson pats my back. I zero in on the cut that splits his otherwise smooth lip. I even smirk at it.

 

“You did well.” He smiles and I shrug him off with a laugh.

 

“I did well? Check my times then come back with a decent compliment.”

 

Jackson chuckles and saunters over to speak with Darryl. As he opens the cage and leans out, Olivia squeezes her way in and bounces over to me.

 

“You are amazing!” she exclaims.

 

I extend an arm to her and she starts to take off my glove. “Now? Or last night?”

 

I watch her cheeks turn pink and she avoids my eyes, biting back a smile. “Stop.”

 

“You’re shy all of a sudden? You weren’t shy last night when you suc—”

 

“Seth!” she squeals, snapping forward and punching my stomach. I flinch with a laugh and step back, extending my arms to her. Her face turns a sexy, darker shade of pink and it spreads down her neck to her chest.

 

“What?” I laugh again. “It’s not like I’m shouting it at the top of my lungs.”

 

“Still!” she whispers harshly. “I don’t want anyone else to hear.”

 

Tormenting her is too much fun. It always has been. I love her reactions and the passion it brings out in her. Feeling rather playful, I say; “I don’t have to tell them anything. They stay in the same hotel, I’m sure they heard you for themselves.”

 

Olivia launches forward, abruptly swallowing the distance between us and I dip out of the way. She comes at me again and again, and I let her chase me around the cage. The floor rocks under my weight with every step I take, matching the same tempo as my chest. Soon the other side of the cage is within reach and at the last second, I side step and whip around, grabbing Olivia’s arm. She half squeals, half chokes on a startled laugh as I spin her and push her back against the cage. In my hands, her wrists are tiny and I squeeze them as I press them into wire, making her green eyes sparkle.

 

“Will you two knock it off?” Darryl shouts, but we ignore him, lost in our own little bubble.

 

“How do you move your large body so quickly?” she asks, giggling. She doesn’t care that I’m hot or sweaty. “Seth Marc: so awesome he even defies the laws of gravity.”

 

“It’s not without incredible skill, I’ll tell you that.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Is this the part where you try and seduce me with your said skills?”

 

“I don’t have to try and do anything. I can say eleven words right now, and have you eating out of the palm of my hand.”

 

Her chest rises and falls against mine—a quick pant—one of my favorite movements of hers. I take it she’s accepted my challenge.

 

“Do you remember?” I ask, lowering my mouth to her ear. “What I did to you against a cage?”

 

Her breath is immediately warmer against the side of my neck and I feel the muscles in her wrists contract and relax. I even hear her swallow.

 

“I remember,” she whispers eventually, clearing her throat.

 

I pull back to look her in the eyes. Her lids are heavy, her lips incredibly moist and I smile triumphantly. “How’d I do?”

 

“I—I’m not fazed in the slightest,” she lies. I can feel her squeezing her thighs together. “I win.”

 

Liar. I tighten my grip on her wrists. “You’re lying.”

 

Her pink lips curl at the corners and she blinks her lids innocently. “How can you ever prove it?”

 

“Your words might be saying one thing, sweetheart, but your body is singing another.” I grin, glancing down at her chest. “The next time you want to lie about being turned on, don’t wear a thin sports bra. You’re nipples are cutting through it like it’s nothing.” She glances down and chokes on a laugh.

 

“Oh my God.” She looks back to me and her face is once again red. “My own body betrays me.”

 

I drop one of her wrists to cup her breast, making her entire body tighten. I let my thumb flick over her concealed nipple and her breath hitches. The smile fades from her face as her eyes lock onto mine. I know the look—the look of pure animalistic desire. Here we are, doing the same thing that started the epic three hour long fuck session last night. Only here I can’t take her from behind, or on her back, or let her sit on top of me. My options are limited… I hate when my options are limited.

 

“They’re loyal to me because I treat them well.” I say with a subtle smirk.

 

Olivia leans off of the cage, bringing her mouth closer. She kisses me—she presses her lips gently against mine—and my entire being stills. No thoughts float through my head, no muscles tense and my stomach doesn’t grumble, all I hear is the steady pound of my heartbeat. Then, her phone rings and all of my previous disturbances come flooding back to me. Training, Don, and food—all of it seems to matter now that her lips aren’t on me. I release her and let her fish through the pocket of her shorts for her phone. She pulls it out, taps the screen, and brings it to her ear.

 

“Hello? Hi, Maddi…”

 

I fold my arms and watch Olivia’s expression for any hint on exactly why my sister is calling her.

 

“You ask him,” she says. “You know how your brother is.”

 

Olivia hands me her phone, but I don’t take it. “What does she want?” I ask.

 

She pushes the phone into my hands. “Talk to her and you’ll find out.”

 

With a heavy exhale, I take the phone and bring it to my ear. “Yeah?”

 

“Seth!” She greets me with exaggerated happiness. Something is definitely up. “How’s training going?”

 

“Fine.”

 

The line goes quiet and after a few seconds, I hear her click her tongue. “Oookay,” She draws out awkwardly. “Listen, Kye is playing at this bar—”

 

“No.”

 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

 

I shake my head. “Not say, ask. You’re going to ask if I want to come and watch your boyfriend play at a bar. My answer is no.”

 

Surely she had to know that before she asked me. She knows how I feel about Kye. I don’t like him and I never have. He’s a smartass punk in a band who bangs my little sister.

 

“He looks up to you, you know. The least you can do is pretend to care.”

 

He looks up to me? No. He’s scared of me because I’ll kick the shit out of him if he hurts my sister. I could’ve told her that… instead, I keep my mouth shut. Telling Maddi she shouldn’t be with Kye only makes her want him more.

 

Maddi exhales. “Please, Seth. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

 

“Do you ever sleep?” I ask, raking my fingers through my hair. She giggles as I peer at Olivia.

 

Seriously, though. Maddi is out and about twenty-four seven, I swear. She always has something going on.

 

“This is Vegas, Seth. There is no sleep for the wicked.”

 

Olivia excitedly chews on her index fingernail, waiting for my answer. It seems she wants to go—God knows why—she’s still hung over from last night. I made breakfast for her and she almost vomited over the kitchen bench. She raises her eyebrows and I exhale. I’m going to say yes. Dammit. I know I am… I can’t deny Olivia anything.

 

I exhale. “Where is it?”

 

She stifles a squeal. “It’s at The Cage—the official bar of the MMAC.”

 

I roll my eyes. “Gee, I wonder whose name he dropped to get that gig?”

 

“I got it for them… and your name helped a little, thank you.”

 

I blow air from my cheeks, shaking my head. “Time?”

 

“Eighty-thirty.”

 

“We’ll come, but only for an hour. You know I don’t think that band of his has any talent.”

 

Olivia angles her head and her long, chocolate hair falls further over her shoulder. She thinks I’m being unfair, but she’ll see. Kye’s band sucks. Now that I think about it, I don’t even know their name.

 

“Thanks, bro!”

 

…and she hangs up.

 

I hand Olivia her phone back and she slips it into her pocket. I plant my hands on my hips as she steps closer and circles her arms around my neck. It doesn’t take long for me to cave and wrap mine around her waist.

 

“You’re a good brother,” Olivia tells me, pulling my forehead down to meet hers. “Maddi loves you.”

 

“And I love her, but I have no idea why she keeps seeing that asshole.”

 

“I’m sure he’s not that bad,” she insists, kissing me on the mouth. “You’re just being protective of your sister.”

 

“You’ll see tonight. He has these beady, blue eyes that stick to everything with a skirt, so wear jeans, loose ones.”

 

She laughs, squeezing me. “You are unbelievable.”

 

“If by that you mean unbelievably certain a loose top will go good with the loose jeans too, then yeah.”

 

She flicks her hand, still laughing. “I don’t own a pair of loose jeans.”

 

I shrug, unable to hide my smile. “You can borrow a pair of mine.”

 

Olivia pulls away from me and heads toward the open door. “Come on, crazy,” she calls over her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

Without hesitation, I follow her. I pull off my remaining glove and toss it over my shoulder. Maybe I am a little crazy. Maybe I read into things and assume the worst of people, but it’s usually not without reason, and Kye is a good enough reason to be labeled crazy.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

I down the last mouthful of scotch and Coke as I grit my teeth through the last verse of the song. I like the sound of most genres—rap, rock, jazz, metal and even pop—but I can’t stand the music Kye’s band makes. Scratch that. His band plays well—I like the drums, guitars, and bass—but I don’t like his voice. It’s deep and husky—loud and irritating. Judging by the swaying crowd, I guess I’m the odd one out.

 

Beside me, Olivia bounces along to the beat, completely mesmerized by the band—whose name is ‘Relentless 21’. Not that it makes any sense at all. She went against my semi-serious suggestion of loose clothing, choosing a tight, white halter neck with a plunging neckline and tight denim short shorts. She looks fucking amazing—absolutely edible—and I’m not the only one thinking it, either. Stares linger on her from every direction and I hate it, but I’m trying to be a better person than I once was, so I ignore them. To make matters worse, she’s not wearing a bra, either, and every time Kye hits a low note, I see her nipples harden against the fabric.

 

The Cage is full to the point of bursting at the seams. Maddi says we’re lucky to get a booth in the front, but it seems her and I have two very different perceptions of the word ‘lucky.’

 

The electric guitar strums out the last chord and the song finishes. I almost slump in relief. Maddi and Olivia turn back into the booth, giggling like little school girls.

 

“They’re amazing!” Olivia gushes, leaning across the table to my sister.

 

“I told you.” She pushes a shot in Olivia’s direction, but Olivia slides it to me.

 

“And I told you I’m extremely hung over. No alcohol for me ever again.”

 

As she finishes, Kye announces another set after a five minute break and climbs down off the stage before moving in our direction. I take the shot and slam it back without a second thought. If I have to talk to him, I’m going to need it. Olivia slides closer to me, hooking one of her arms around mine.

 

“Take it easy,” she says. “I’m not strong enough to carry you home.”

 

Kye slips into the booth next to my sister, planting a forceful kiss on her mouth. When he’s finished, his blue eyes flick between Olivia and I.

 

“Seth,” he says, deciding to start with me first. “It’s good to see you, man.”

 

I watch him, drawing out the silence. He has a new hairstyle, short and unruly… it’s slightly better than the long blond fringe, but still just as feminine. Olivia nudges me subtly (but hard) in the ribs.

 

“It’s good to see you, too,” I reply bluntly.

 

Maddi rolls her eyes and I shake my head at her. She knows I’m not one to fuck around. If I don’t like you, you’ll know straight away. Coincidently, I don’t like Kye. I don’t like the way he looks, the way he talks, or the way he acts, and he knows that.

 

“And this is your wife?”

 

He turns his ice blue gaze onto Olivia and they rake over her with obvious appreciation. I tap my index finger in an even beat along the top of the table. “Yep.”

 

“I’m Olivia,” she says, taking over and extending her hand to him.

 

He takes her hand in his and I find myself glaring at him as he leans forward and kisses the top of her hand. She smiles at him, looking perfectly polite.

 

“I wasn’t aware people kiss hands anymore,” I state, not bothering to hide my discomfort.

 

Olivia peers sideways at me with warning clear in her eyes, but I ignore it. There are two halves to everything, good and bad, yin and yang—good cop, bad cop. She’s the cute, bubbly one who tends to be a lot nicer than me. She’s better at greetings and being kind to people. I’m shit at first impressions, even worse at being nice when I don’t want to. What more can you want from a better half? I’m egotistical, spoiled and arrogant. She’s kind, generous, and thoughtful. They’re called ‘better halves’ for a reason, I guess. You can’t have one half that’s worse than you. It’d be a disaster.

 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your band is amazing.”

 

He smiles, exposing his white teeth. Most new musicians are humble and even blush a little when you compliment them. Not Kye. He takes compliments like he deserves them.

 

“We are, aren’t we?” he replies, his eyes quickly flicking to her chest.

 

My sister has never cared when Kye’s caught ogling other women or flirting. She claims he only does it to boost his band, but I know better. I see it on his face. It’s so obvious it might as well be written in permanent marker for all to see. He’s untrustworthy and he’s going to fuck over my little sister any day now. I’ve told her a million times that I know guys like him—I used to be just like him—but she refuses to listen. Blinded by love. It’s such a stupid thing and yet we all fall for it at one point or another. Kye reminds me of Blade… maybe that’s another reason my distaste for him has grown over the last few months.

 

“Married now, eh?” He flicks his eyebrows at me. “You did all right for yourself.”

 

Olivia gives out a nervous laugh and my eyebrows draw together. “I know I did.”

 

“Don’t be seedy.” Maddi giggles, shoving him with her shoulder. “Seth will kick your ass.”

 

Kye slings his arm over the back of the booth and relaxes. He seems pretty content. He seems to believe I won’t pull him across the table and smash his face in.

 

“Seth wouldn’t kick my ass.”

 

I pluck a quarter of a lemon from the bowl in the middle of the table. I need something to keep my hands busy. “Careful,” I warn, managing to hold a bored tone in my voice. “I just might.”

 

Of course, he laughs it off like it’s no big deal—like I’m playing some kind of game. I don’t play games… not outside of my bedroom, anyway. I bring the lemon between my lips and suck in the juice. It’s sour—very sour—but I manage to keep a straight face.

 

“I gotta head back to the stage, but I’m down for going out afterwards if you guys are. Maddi can sort it out.” He plants a quick kiss on Maddi’s head and leaves before Olivia or I can protest.

 

“We’re not going out,” I tell Maddi and she nods, knowing not to push her luck. She already got me here… she should be counting her lucky stars.

 

Shortly after Kye’s departure, Maddi slips from the booth to give out business cards and free t-shirts. I watch her as she mingles with the crowd. The band is lucky to have my sister. They wouldn’t be able to get half of the gigs they pull without the help of her pretty face.

 

I drop the lemon skin on the table and exhale. I’m about ready to go now. I’ve had one too many drinks and there’s a familiar tingle in my stomach that spreads to my hands… it’s the same feeling I get when I always drink, the feeling that urges me to punch or fuck something. My head spins and my mouth is numb, but Olivia is having way too much fun to want to go home now. We’ve only been here an hour and she seems interested enough in the band to want to see the rest of their set. Unfortunately for her, I don’t think I have the stomach to sit through another song.

 

I shift closer to Olivia, knowing exactly how to get her attention. I rest my arm along the back of the booth and run my index finger in soothing circles over her shoulder. Her posture straightens and she angles her head, her lips pursed as she tries hard to come off as unimpressed.

 

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”

 

I raise my eyebrows, feigning shock. “Me? I’m not doing anything.”

 

Olivia leans in close—so close I feel her breath on my ear. Phantom pins and needles flood the tips of my fingers and burn with the urge to touch her. “I’m not going to let you seduce me into leaving. As of this very moment—and for the remainder of the night—I’m declaring my body a no go zone for you, Mr. Marc.”

 

I pull back, smiling. “You couldn’t resist me even if you tried.”

 

Her brows arch. She hates it when I challenge her. “Oh yeah?”

 

I nod, feeling as confident as ever. She can’t resist me, we’ve played this game too many times and I still come out on top—pun intended.

 

“I’m quite capable of resisting you.” She shifts in her seat, turning her back to me. “Just you watch.”

 

Ignoring me, she watches the band. I lean toward her and brush her chocolate hair over one shoulder. Her scent—the scent of grape body wash mixing with pomegranate shampoo, filters in through my nose. My brain rolls in my skull again and another urge begins to build in the pit of my stomach—whether the urge is one of arousal or the acceptance of a challenge is beyond me. I drag my lip over her shoulder, drawing closer to the base of her neck. I feel goosebumps erupt over her skin and I smile against her soft flesh.

 

“I want to go home,” I say, circling her waist with my arm. “Now.”

 

She shakes her head, but otherwise ignores me. I pull her back, almost into my lap. I don’t like being ignored. It’s a strange feeling, one I’m not used to.

 

“That’s cute,” I tell her. “You think I’m asking for your permission?”

 

I drop my mouth back to her shoulder, all while holding her tightly by the waist—her back flush against my torso. She feels good and I would be as hard as a rock if it weren’t for Kye’s shitty voice in the background. Olivia squirms in my grasp. She should know better… the more she reacts, the further I want to go. I slip my hand underneath her shirt and glide it across her firm, warm navel. I feel her muscles clench and relax—tighten and soften—all in sync with my lips. After a few small eternities pass me by, she turns her head, looking at me from over her shoulder. Her mouth calls to mine, drawing me nearer, like a moth to a lamp. Her lips graze the corner of mine and she drags an inhale through her nose, before expelling it slowly.

 

“You win,” she utters. “Let’s go home.”

 

I fight a cocky smile. A suggestive brush of my lips was all it took for victory to be mine.

 

“In the shower room and now in a public bar? Do you two ever stop?”

 

I freeze as Don’s ‘seedy’ voice stops her lips in their tracks. Underneath my hand, Olivia’s stomach tenses. “I half expect to see a tribe of kids following you two around by how frequently you get it on.”

 

She slips from my lap with a heavy exhale. I angle my body back into the table and grab the nearest coaster. I distract myself from his ugly face by tapping it to the beat of the music I don’t like. I can’t leave the bar now… Don will think I’m running from him.

 

“Always a pleasure to see you, Don,” Olivia deadpans, peering around him and towards the band.

 

“Fun fact,” he says, ignoring his obvious dismissal.

 

I look at him in his white tank top and baggy black jeans. He’s a grade-A douchebag, that’s for sure.

 

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard my name and ‘pleasure’ in the same sentence.”

 

I grit my teeth and crush the coaster in the palm of my hand. My imagination goes rampant as I picture myself kicking the crap out of him. I imagine dragging him over to the stage and throwing him at Kye, too. What’s the saying? Two birds with one stone?

 

Olivia laughs once. “It doesn’t count when you say it to yourself. Now go, we’re trying to watch the band.”

 

With a flick of his palms and a devilish grin in my direction, he strolls over to the bar with one of his boys in tow. It takes a lot of effort on my part to sit here and not talk to him. I want to talk to him—to chastise him for being a loser, for bringing nothing to the sport but cowardice and dishonesty. If someone like Don is what the MMAC admires, then why do I strive so hard to be a part of it? I’m not an angel, but I’m straight forward. What you see is what you get. I don’t try to be nice or play people against each other… Matt Somers needs to realize that I’m a grown ass man, not a child he can manipulate.

 

“Do you want to go home?” Olivia mutters when Don isn’t looking.

 

I shake my head. I can’t stomach the thought of Don believing he affects me. I need to stay here… to prove to myself that he can’t get into my head. Before Olivia’s father passed away, he told me that ‘no one can bother you unless you let them.’ So I tell myself over and over; Don doesn’t bother me. He doesn’t bother me. I tear the coaster into tiny pieces and drop it onto the table. I inhale, ignoring the way the room spins, then exhale. If Don stays on his side of the bar and away from me and Olivia, I’ll be fine. But if he so much as takes a single step closer to us, I won’t be responsible for my actions.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

Olivia

 

 

 

 

 

Relentless 21 is amazing. Their music is fast and loud—the lyrics relevant and motivating… Seth isn’t enjoying it as much as I am, however. I think it has more to do with the fact the lead singer, Kye, is with his sister rather than the music. I wonder if Seth is threatened by Kye? I mean, Kye is no Seth, but he’s easily one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen—if not a little too pretty.

 

The bright lights shine down on him, making the thin coat of sweat on his forehead glisten. His blue eyes scan the rather large crowd and every now and then, his lip will twitch with the beginnings of a smile. I’ve always enjoyed watching live bands play. I like the way they all wear their passion on their face—much like Seth when he’s in the cage. Nothing in this world is as striking or as captivating as Seth when he’s focused. Right now, he seems focused on ignoring Don by picking apart an innocent coaster. I can feel his tension radiating off him and he’s not the only one who’s bothered by Don’s sudden appearance. You know that heavy feeling that presses into the pit of your stomach when someone you don’t like is in the same room as you? That’s what I have, and Seth is undoubtedly feeling the same way.

 

A loud, sarcastic laugh catches my attention and I allow my gaze to flick between the stage and the bar, where Don is chatting to a less than impressed Maddi. She stands in front of him with her hand on her semi-exposed hip. She looks great in her tight, black tank top and denim skinny jeans—Don clearly thinks so, too. He reaches out and pinches the thick strand of straight, black hair that drapes down her chest and curls over her breasts. She quickly swats him away, but I see the telltale blush that heats her neck and blushes her cheeks. My brows furrow as Maddi shakes her head at him. Her lips move fast as she tells him off and I bite back a smile. She pushes past him and rolls her eyes at me as she passes by before disappearing into the crowd.

 

“Would you look at that?” Seth says, shifting in the booth. “My sister does have a brain.”

 

“She has good taste in men.”

 

Seth scoffs. “Let’s not go as far as to claim Don and Kye as men.”

 

I choke on a laugh. “Don, maybe not, but Kye is all right.”

 

Seth surveys me, his eyes thinning. I guess I hit a nerve. “You think Kye’s attractive?”

 

I shrug, suddenly regretting what I said. “Sure. I mean, he’s definitely not unattractive.”

 

He laughs once, nudging me in the ribs with his elbow. I flinch, leaning away from him. “What?”

 

He pauses, all traces of amusement gone. “You’re serious?”

 

Since I started this conversation, I might as well finish it. I’m in too far to say ‘just kidding’ and hope he lets it go. “Of course I am. Are we looking at the same Kye? He’s hot as hell.”

 

Seth blinks at me in that adorable way only he can before he grips my shoulders and pulls me into him. I eat a mouthful of his shirt and some of his shoulder as he squeezes me tightly against his torso. His body vibrates under my face as his laugh fills my ears. I push off of him, only managing to separate his body from mine by an inch or two. I’m glad he finds it so funny.

 

“I can’t believe you,” he says between gasps of air. It pricks at me, slowly spiking my annoyance levels. “Him? Really?”

 

He laughs a little more, pushing me higher and higher.

 

“What’s so funny?” I demand. “He has dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a killer smile. Ask any girl in here and they’ll tell you he’s hot.”

 

His laugh fades and his eyes flare as his brows draw closer. He’s jealous… I can see him imperceptibly working his jaw. “Is that what you want? Blond hair and blue eyes?”

 

I’ve had my fun with him now. Seth’s not the kind of person I like to see jealous. I’ve seen him get all King Kong ‘mine’ type of jealous with Mason and Blade and it wasn’t pretty. Besides, it’d be unfair of me to release a jealous Seth on Kye when he hasn’t done anything wrong, and Seth is just looking for an excuse to destroy Kye. Anyone can see that.

 

“Absolutely not,” I say. “I’ll take funny and annoying over hot as hell any day.”

 

I wink and he pulls me in again, squeezing me relentlessly against his stone-like body.

 

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” he tells me and I can hear a smile in his voice.

 

“I think I’m hilarious.”

 

“I know you do. That’s the problem.”

 

I open my mouth to protest, but Maddi appears out of nowhere, planting her hands on the table. “Do either of you want a drink?”

 

Seth releases me and I sit upright again, pulling my shirt back down over my tummy. My stomach churns at the thought of drinking alcohol so I shake my head, making yet another mental note to never touch another drop. Ever.

 

“Rum and Coke,” Seth says, bunching up the remnants of his coaster and squeezing them in his large hand.

 

With a nod of her head, Maddi turns from the table and stalks toward the bar. As she passes Don, she keeps her head down and angled away from him, but that does nothing to deter him. She could be wearing spikes and escorting a Rottweiler on a chain and he’d still have a go at her. I’ve come to learn that Mr. Don Russell isn’t exactly the smartest man on the planet.

 

As she steps by, he hooks his finger through one of her jean loopholes and tugs her into him. As soon as it happens, I’m startled to my feet. The entire booth rocks as Seth leaps from his seat. I turn into him, blocking his path. Thankfully, the only way he’s getting out of here is through me and I’m not about to step out of the way.

 

“Move,” he growls, not taking his eyes off Don and his sister.

 

I shake my head and extend my palms to him. I bring them close to his chest, careful not to touch. “Relax. I’ll handle it.”

 

His intense, volcanic eyes flick onto me and my heart slams into my ribcage over and over. “Like hell you will.”

 

“Seth,” I tell him, my voice low and stern. “I said I’ll handle it. I’m going to go over there and let Maddi know that we’re leaving. If she has any problems with Don, I’m sure Kye can handle it.”

 

Kye can’t handle it. I know that. Don is at least twice his size and I doubt Kye’s pretty face has ever taken a decent punch before. I may hate what Don stands for, but he has heavy hands, I’ll give him that. Seth clenches and unclenches his fists as he ponders what I said. My heart pounds in my ears like a bass drum. I’m nowhere near big enough to stand between Seth and Don, and I can’t stop Seth even if I try, but I’m hoping he has his wits about him. I know he’s been drinking and I know he gets a little amped up when he drinks, but he needs to listen to me.

 

“I’ll give you thirty seconds and then I’m coming over.” He throws his torn coaster across the table and it scatters as he drops back into his seat and folds his arms tightly over his chest. Not wasting a second, I quickly make my way over to the bar as Maddi tries to slap her way out of his hold.

 

“Maddi, can you tell your brother to go get the car. It’s getting late and I want to go home.”

 

Don’s seedy green gaze falls onto me, and with a victorious smile, he immediately releases Maddi.

 

“Thanks, asshole,” she mutters at him before slipping away and over to Seth.

 

“Who do you think you are?” I snap at Don, planting my hands on my hips. “You can’t go around tugging people wherever you want.”

 

I almost laugh at the idiocy of telling a fighter not to tug people into them. They all do it. They all break the personal bubble rule without so much as a sorry. With most, it’s sexy, but with Don, it’s the complete opposite.

 

“Jealous of baby Marc, sweetheart?” He pinches the fabric of my shirt and pulls me closer, exposing the bare skin on my belly. There he goes with that tugging shit again. “Don’t worry, the whole time I do her I’ll be thinking of you.”

 

I snatch my shirt back, making space between us again and I even manage it without looking helpless.

 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?”

 

He smirks. “Until you finally beg me to touch you.”

 

I snort and roll my eyes. I wonder if he can hear how stupid he sounds? “When hell freezes over, then?”

 

“It doesn’t have to be that long. Tonight works for me, too.”

 

I narrow my eyes. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

 

I turn on my heel. I’m done bantering with him, it gets me nowhere. He exists only to piss people off and he doesn’t see it, but he’s a pawn in Matt Somers’ game to increase his own bank.

 

I barely make one step before his large, warm hand snatches my wrist.

 

“Don!” I hear Seth shout from the table. I also hear Maddi begging Seth to sit down. A pounding in my ears intensifies, completely drowning out Kye’s unique voice. I have to get out of this and fast.

 

“You keep playing this game, baby, but I know you’re into me. I can feel the sexual tension radiating from your tight little body.”

 

I glare at him. “You’ve obviously never experienced sexual tension.”

 

Bickering with Don is not grounds to claim sexual tension. I’ve had sexual tension, and trust me when I say this is nothing. When Seth and I were getting to know each other, that was sexual tension. Although I hated him, I wanted to eat him. I wanted to wrap my legs around him and lick him from head to toe. It’s not like that with Don… with him my insides dry up at the thought of his mouth anywhere near mine.

 

“You think you’re so special, don’t you?” he snaps, releasing my arm. “You think that you’re so damn special because you’re married to that—that asshole.” He shakes his head. “Let me be the first to tell you this, you’re not special. You’re a whore, like everybody else.”

 

“A whore?” I almost laugh.

 

He nods. “You are nothing but a gold-digging, cock sucking whor—”

 

I clench my jaw and swing at him. I swing with so much force my fist aches as I scrunch it. When I connect with his face, pain shoots through my hand and straight to my elbow. In the distance, I hear Maddi cheer. I want to scream, to kick him for hurting my hand, but I figure it’ll look more badass if I just grit my teeth and bear it. I hit him right in the nose and he quickly shields it with his hand, groaning like a little bitch.

 

“Fuck you,” I spit at him through gritted teeth.

 

I want to shout more things at him, call him all of the horrible names I’ve been wanting to call him for months, but strong arms seize me before I get the chance. They pull me into a hard, laughing body and I can’t see as I’m hoisted up and carried away. I want to see Don’s face—I want to see the damage I did. That should teach him not to disrespect another woman. Instantly, there’s a swirling mass of guilt in my stomach, but my brain counters it. I’ve put up with a lot of his shit—a lot more than I should have—and there’s only so much sexual harassment one girl can take before she stands up for herself. That’s what I did… I stood up for myself. I clasp my hand and manage to pull my face from Seth’s chest. He beams down at me, smiling widely. All traces of his previous anger are gone, replaced by absolute happiness and pride.

 

Crap.

 

I drop my head against his chest. I hit Don… in the face. I’m not a violent person… in fact, I hated violence of all kinds once upon a time. I’m different now… and hitting Don in the face was way too easy for my liking.

 

I don’t say anything as Seth carries me from the club, and I’m unable to say goodbye to Maddi or thank Kye for the performance. It’s all for the greater good, I guess. I can’t imagine my night getting any better sitting in there with Don a few feet away.

 

Outside the air is cool on my burning cheeks. It gathers my scattered thoughts, stacks them and neatly files them away in the ‘deal with it tomorrow’ drawer. All I want now is comfort and reassurance from my husband. I’m not a bad person… and I’m not a whore, either.

 

“Maybe I should send you into the cage for me. Killer swing you’ve got there, lady.”

 

I shake my head, wincing as I squeeze my hand. “I shouldn’t have done that… that was wrong.”

 

“Who cares? Don got what was coming to him.” Seth squeezes me harder against his body. “You did me proud, and let’s face it, he was going to get a smack in the nose tonight regardless. He’s lucky it was by you and your cute hands.”

 

People stare as he carries me down the street, but I don’t mind. We’ve been seen like this too many times to be embarrassed now. Don’s words weigh on my chest and I feel stupid, mulling over it. I shouldn’t put so much stock in his words. It is Don, after all.

 

“Do you see me differently now?” I ask, watching the dark concrete. “Now that we’re together… am I a different person than the girl you met?”

 

Deep down, it’s a question I’ve been pondering for a while, but I didn’t think anything of it until Don called me out. When I think about it, and I mean really, really, think about it, I feel different… Seth has made me different. He’s made me crave things I never really did before him. Is there a line you can’t cross, even when you’re married?

 

“Yes, I see you differently,” he says and my stomach ties itself up in knots. “I no longer see you as that weak girl everyone took advantage of.” He kisses me on the top of my head, sending pins and needles through my body down to the tips of my toes. “You’re a badass, independent woman who knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. You’ve changed, but you’re still you. You’re still just as good, just as beautiful, and just as amazing as you were when I met you.”

 

I fight a smile and he squeezes me. “You think so?”

 

“I know so.”

 

Exhaling, I let my head fall firmly against his chest. He smells good, like a spring afternoon in the woods after a long night of rain. I cringe inwardly. Thank God thoughts are internal because that has to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever thought in my life.

 

“What happens between you and me when we’re alone stays between you and me,” he continues. “I would never think any less of you no matter what you do to please me. I wouldn’t say a word—even if you wanted to play with handcuffs and whips.”

 

I snort. That’s a big call coming from Seth. He’s not into kink. “You’d put up with that?”

 

“If it makes you happy, I’ll take a lashing on the ass for breakfast every morning.”

 

“That’s good to know.” Laughing, I lift my sore hand. “On a more serious note, I think I broke something.”

 

All amusement fades from his features. “Can you move it?”

 

I close my fist and wince before opening it again. “I can, but it’s extremely tender.” I smirk. “He really does have a thick skull.”

 

Ignoring my joke, he puts me down on the sidewalk right next to our car and gently takes my hand in his. For a guy who’s downed as many drinks as Seth has, he’s impressively still.

 

“Ow!” I hiss as he bends it backwards. I snatch my hand away, cradling it against my chest. “I told you it was sore.”

 

“Sorry, give it back. I’ll be gentle.”

 

I inch forward then hesitate. “You’ll be gentle?”

 

His lips curl a little at the corners and he nods. I slowly extend my sore hand to him and watch his movements closely for any sign of impending pain. He drags his finger tips over the top of my hand. Like he promised, his thick, callused fingers move lightly and I barely feel it. In their wake, trails of tingles dance over the surface of my skin and my entire body hums. One by one, he bends my fingers, all while keeping his intense eyes on my face.

 

“It’s not in your hand. It’s in your wrist.” His voice is low and smooth as he slides his fingers over the back of my hand. Pain flares the lower he gets, and as his fingers wrap around my wrist, I wince and pull back again.

 

“We should get it looked at to make sure it’s not serious. I don’t think it’s broken, but a fracture is possible—or a sprain.”

 

“A fracture?” I spit, tilting my head to the sky and running my fine hand over my face. “I’m being punished.”

 

Seth scoffs. “You’re not being punished.”

 

“I am. This is why you shouldn’t assault people.” I look at him. He’s watching me—all of his features alight with amusement. “Karma has always liked the way I taste. She can’t get enough.”

 

His lips curve into a cheeky smile. “Well, it’s good to know Karma and I have one thing in common.”

 

Of course he went there.

 

“Sex jokes?” I deadpan. “You want to crack sex jokes right now?”

 

Suddenly, I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated in myself. I know better. I know that violence is wrong. I know that violence doesn’t solve anything… and yet, I punched Don in his stupid, fucking face. I don’t care how irritating he is, I shouldn’t have put my hands on him. My dad always told me that no one has the right to put their hands on anyone without permission and I hate that I disregarded his advice so quickly.

 

Seth shifts his weight and leans back against the car. “Don’t be so uptight, O. You punched Don in the face. The universe fucking loves you right now.”

 

“You’re right.” I sigh, tapping my index finger along my arm. “I did the universe a favor.”

 

I’m sure even Karma has a small list of people she’d punch in the face. Seth pushes off of the car. “Let me take you home where you’re safe and won’t have the urge to punch anyone else.”

 

Automatically, I glower. “Except Jackson. I swear if he brings another girl home tonight, I’m going to—”

 

“He’s just trying to fill a void,” Seth interrupts. “It’s how he copes. I’m sure Selena is doing the same thing.”

 

She isn’t. I spoke to Selena this morning. She’s a freaking wreck. I’ve never witnessed Selena cry over a boy until now, and the worst part is, she won’t even tell me. She refuses to open up about Jackson. His personal life is the one thing Selena can keep to herself. It’s the one thing that won’t slip past her lips. Jackson has been crashing on one of our couches. Jackson has also been banging girls on all of our couches, the kitchen benches, the floor, the stairs and the spare bathroom. He’s probably done the deed on the balconies and in my bed, too.

 

“This isn’t about Selena.” Not entirely. “We need privacy, too.”

 

“I know,” he simply says.

 

Seth doesn’t have the same issue with Jackson as I do. Mostly because he’s not too fond of Selena, but also because he’s used to Jackson and the way he does things. Seth sleeps through all of the begging, spanking, and eardrum bursting orgasms. Not me. Before Seth, I lived alone in a small apartment. It was quiet, it was peaceful, and it was refreshing.

 

I cradle my arm and step closer to him. “If we ever have a break or an argument, don’t do to me what he’s doing to Selena… I don’t think I could ever come back from that.”

 

He frowns, and it’s a frown that absolutely terrifies me. “Don’t ever assume our relationship is like theirs. We’re different. You and I fix things when they break, we don’t damage them further… that’s what they do. They break things beyond repair. They’re not like us. Our love is healthy, theirs is…” He pauses as he ponders the right word. “Poisonous.”

 

“Poisonous?” I mutter.

 

“I have no idea what’s going on between them, but whatever it is, it can’t be healthy.”

 

I nod ever so slightly and Seth expels a heavy breath. “Anyway, if Jackson is home, he’ll be able to tell us what’s wrong with your hand. I’ve inched too far past the ‘tipsy’ mark to make sense of anything. In the meantime, support it and keep it straight.”

 

“Straight? How?”

 

He glances around and I pray that it’s not to find a stick that he can tape to my arm. Giving up, he glances at his own chest and pauses.

 

“But I like this one…” He sighs before pulling his shirt over his head.

 

Jesus. Even in the dim light his body looks fantastic. It pools in all of the right places, heating all of my ‘right places.’ Then he pulls on the collar, tearing the perfectly fine shirt in two. My mouth drops open.

 

“Really, Seth?” I gasp. “You had to rip your shirt?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I give him my arms and he tightly wraps his shirt around my hand, wrist, and arm. I clench my teeth together every time he tugs a little too hard.

 

“I’m being romantic,” he tells me.

 

“Romantic?”

 

“I ripped one of my favorite shirts for you. That’s pretty fucking romantic, Olivia.”

 

“I’m glad you think so.”

 

He ties a knot at my elbow. “Most men give jackets or umbrellas to their girls, but they always take it back when it’s over. I’m giving you my shirt and now there’s absolutely no way of me getting it back. I think it’s extremely selfless and sickeningly romantic.” He ties a second knot and pulls his hands away. “I want you to keep your hand still and straight until we get home.” Seth strokes my cheek. “Also, I’ve had a lot to drink, so you’re going to have to drive.”

 

My eyes widen. “Me? Drive? My hand is busted.”

 

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling comfortingly at me. It’s not convincing, he looks terrified.

 

“I know your hand is busted, but you’re our only option. You didn’t drink. I drank too much and that makes you the designated driver.”

 

I avoid driving in Vegas at all costs. Shit is crazy out there on the roads—especially at night. “But—”

 

“I know, I’m scared too, but if you keep your eyes on the road, stick to the speed limit, and try really hard not to crash, we’ll be just fine.”

 

He pulls the keys from his pocket and hands them to me. I take them with a groan and drag myself around to the driver’s seat.

 

It’s going to be a long drive home.