“Fine,” I said. “But don’t waste your energy worrying about me.” My voice came out harsh. Ian needed to focus on his fight, not me.

I turned away and headed back down the aisle. I wanted him to have his fight, and I wanted him to win. All this self-sacrifice couldn’t be for nothing.

Ian

I’d been to Vegas countless times before, often enough to see fights, but this was the first time I was going to be the one in the cage. I was so pumped, my heart felt like it beat triple-time on the flight there. That combined with the physical strain of sweating and avoiding liquids to cut weight made me a total wreck.

Still, I seemed to be the only one who noticed when Kenzie ran off to the restroom as soon as the seatbelt sign was turned off. Both Chris and Jonah had managed to pass out, so even though I’d been getting the stink-eye from Kenzie for the past week—ever since I confronted her—I went back to check on her.

She’d looked frail and delicate. So much so that it took everything in me to not fold her in my arms and hold her. Of course, she denied anything was wrong and tried to turn it around on me, making it about my health. That was so like her. She wouldn’t let me help, and turned away from me, storming back to her seat.

After everything we’d been through, I still wanted her. I knew we were meant to be together, but she was wearing me down, so I’d promised myself to not think about it until after the fight. A promise I definitely could not keep.

It was midnight local time when we landed. Still, when we got to the hotel, I was nowhere near tired.

“This way,” Chris said as the elevator doors opened to our floor. Chris led the way with his luggage and Kenzie followed him, wheeling her small suitcase.

“Are you sure I can’t carry that for you, Kenzie?” I asked.

I’d offered to carry it for her earlier, but Chris had given me a weird, almost bitter look. I wasn’t sure how he could be mad if he wasn’t going to man up and help out his girlfriend. I swear, if he didn’t start being more attentive to Kenzie, I would punch him.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.” She smiled politely.

“This is us,” Chris said. He slid in the key card and opened the door.

I hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but my room was only a few doors down. As I searched my pockets for my own key card, I could hear them talking.

“This is my room?” MacKenzie said.

My pulse quickened. Were they staying in separate rooms?

“This is our suite,” Chris said.

Deflated, I located my key card and was about to let myself in when I heard Kenzie say, “I thought you said I would get my own room.”

I put my key card back in my pocket and pretended to continue to search. Did she really demand separate rooms? My heart pounded with my elevated pulse. If she wasn’t going to fuck him, why the hell was she still with him?

“Don’t worry, my little Kenzie,” Chris said. “I didn’t forget our deal. You have your own room.”

“But you just said—”

“This is our suite. My bedroom is on one side, and yours is—”

The door closed behind them and I could no longer hear. But I’d heard enough. This whole time Kenzie had been giving me the cold shoulder and making me think she was getting closer to Chris. But it was a load of shit. They still hadn’t fucked.

Maybe there was still hope for us after all.

Just how the fuck was I supposed to focus on the fight?

Thirty-Seven

MacKenzie

As we headed up to our floor in the hotel elevator, I started to feel sick again. Being with Chris was wearing on me. Big-time.

The unsettled feeling in my stomach only intensified when Chris showed me the rooming situation. “My bedroom is over there.” He pointed at one of the doors that led off the front room of our suite. “And your bedroom is over there.”

He smiled proudly as panic filled me. I could manage the next few days with Chris, going out on dates and putting him off. But I wasn’t sure I could handle sharing a room with him. Which was why I thought we’d agreed on separate rooms.

“I…” I searched for words that wouldn’t make me sound like I was freaking at the idea of being alone with him. “We…”

Crap. I couldn’t find the words. I was so upset, but I didn’t want him to get angry. He’d brought Jonah with us, almost as if he still wasn’t sure that Ian was ready for the fight. He’d never said it again outright, but it still felt like Ian’s participation in the fight somehow hinged on my staying with Chris. If I exploded on him now, he might just pull Ian.

“Okay,” I said.

The living area of our suite had floor-to-ceiling mirrors on two walls, black faux-leather furniture, as well as black laminate-covered particleboard end tables. All that combined with the mini bar made the room scream cheap stripper party. Although this was Vegas, so make that cheap hooker party.

The thought made my skin crawl, and I suddenly wondered if I had enough energy to take a shower. I took a deep breath and headed over to check out my room. I slid the door open, noting that the room was tiny and only contained a bed and a small closet. I put my bag on the bed. At least there was no stripper pole.

Chris followed me and leaned against the doorway. “Get yourself settled and cleaned up, or whatever, then we’ll go grab a drink at the bar.”

“Chris, I don’t feel well. I think I need to just crash,” I said.

He looked at me. “Hmm. Yeah, I guess you don’t look too good. It’s late. We can always go out tomorrow.”