Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Hopefully when he calls back, we can tell him all about it.” Lotto eyed me, his jaw tight with how hard he clenched his teeth. I nodded a few times, and the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxed. He must have been as worried about Dad’s health as I was. “We should get going then.”
“No bleeding in my car,” Frankie said.
My lips quirked at the joke. Only he wasn’t joking, because he glared at me for daring to look amused.
“I just got it reupholstered. Keep your shit off the leather.”
“What if it’s not my blood?” Ari questioned, her smile a little too innocent to be believable. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
“No.”
Frankie grabbed the key from the front counter—the same one I’d been staring at a few minutes ago—and unlocked his car from the lobby.
Ari pouted. “Come on, Frankie, you can’t care more about your car than me.”
“Unless you’re making me five K to pay me back, I sure can.”
“Five K? You got robbed. I know a guy who can do full reupholstering for three K.” Lotto smirked as he walked past Ari and smacked her ass. “Angel will make more than that. Easy.”
“I hope so.”
For the first time all day, Ari’s confident mask slipped. She bounced her gaze between us, eventually landing on me. In the dimming sun, she looked absolutely gorgeous. And absolutely scared shitless. It was only a flash of vulnerability, but I reached out to grab her elbow and shuffle her closer.
“You will. Promise. Tune everything out and give ’em hell.”
“And don’t vomit in the ring. Or my car.” Frankie opened the new front door for us, the same old bell ringing. “Though vomit technically isn’t against the rules.”
“Don’t listen to him, angel,” Lotto said. “He wants you to vomit so he has an excuse to pull you.”
Frankie didn’t argue. He didn’t have to. We all felt the same. As excited as Ari was to showcase her skills, trepidation lurked deep within all of us. If Ari didn’t vomit, maybe I would. This was worse than my first fight ever, and as Dad had graciously reminded me, I was KOed in twenty seconds flat.
The entire drive to the abandoned school where the fight would be held was filled with Ari’s specialty crafted “Pump It Up Mix.” At least the music drowned out all of my worries, instead replacing them with Ari’s excited singing and arm-dancing out the open window. But as soon as we rolled into the parking lot and headed down into the dingy basement, the carefree attitude we had was swallowed by cigarette smoke and angry jeers. Fighting was already in full swing, and the white of the ring was smeared with dried and fresh blood.
Ari stared at the ring as we pushed through the screaming crowd toward the locker room. She disappeared inside, but when she didn’t reappear after five minutes, Frankie slapped a hand on my shoulder.
“Go talk to her. Lotto and I will handle organizational shit.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to talk to her.”
“She’s not going to want to hear what I have to say.” He pushed my shoulder before letting go. “Last chance.”
I snorted. Frankie needed to get fucking real. If she hadn’t listened to me yet, there was no chance she would do so tonight.
I entered the locker room, checking again for Ari’s opponent before I headed further inside. Ari sat on a wooden bench, playing with her taped-up knuckles. When I slid my hand over hers, she practically jumped out of her skin.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack before I even step in the ring?”
I bent down in front of her and helped her fix the tape on her right knuckles. “I don’t think that would stop you.”
“We’re in an old school, Bones. I’m sure there’s an afib machine around here somewhere.”
“Might be decades old.”
“We have that in common.” Ari smiled and flexed her hand once I let go of her hand. “Are you here to give me a pep talk?” She eyed me suspiciously, “Or tell me I’m an idiot?”
“Why do you think I’m here and not Frankie?” My smile could barely be called that. I stood and held a hand out to her. She took it, and I helped her stand, my grip on her tightening. “Too late to back out now, baby. So what do you need?”
“How about a good luck kiss?” She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer, pure honey in her proposition. “And the promise to celebrate with the others back at Smiley’s when I win. I heard the showers got some good use last night.”
My body flushed with heat at the memory. I pulled Ari closer, crushing her body against mine and my lips against hers. The kiss was hungry. Intense. Our lips and tongues moved out of pure heat and desperation. She clung to me and groped every inch of muscle she could. I grunted when she smacked my ass and copped a tight feel. My body burned for her, cock straining against my jeans.