Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I set down a paper and looked over at Frankie, whose eyes were focused on the gym’s balance book. He wasn’t actually reading it but was conveniently ignoring my intuition ’cause it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
We either needed to give River a contract and apply for the Circuit or call up Troy and sell our souls to the devil.
Both weren’t the best choices, but even with our Heathens Hollow money, we could only skirt for a year or two before going under again.
I knew my choice, and Frankie wasn’t going to like it.
He carefully set down the book, rose from the plush chair on the other side of my desk, and rapped his knuckles over last month’s balance with a frown. Even at his most asshole-y, Frankie was a sight to behold. Sandy blond hair, strong jaw, thick chest and muscles accented by his sprawling tattoos. His three-quarter-sleeve white shirt was unbuttoned down to his clavicle and showing off his pecs. It was hard to focus on work when all I wanted to do was run my tongue over his sharp collarbones.
When he didn’t say anything, I sighed. “What’s worse, me being back in the ring, or us hiring River?”
“You back in the ring,” he answered without hesitation.
I tilted my head. “Then what’s the hold up?”
Frankie closed our ledger book and threw it aside. “I’ve known of River for a long time now, but I’ve never known him. He unretires from the underground, works with the douchebag Perks to kick our ass at Heathens Hollow, and what—at the first loss, comes crawling here, asking to join? Horse shit smells better than that, Ari.”
“And horse shit doesn’t nearly take out our best fighter in the ring,” I argued. “That’s why we offer a contract.”
“The same as Troy offered a contract, and River still walked his ass onto our turf and asked to change the game completely.”
“You took a chance on Bones. Why not River?”
“We were desperate then. We aren’t now. We have time. Choices. Shit we didn’t have just a few months ago.”
I couldn’t refute that. The numbers said we could last about a year without alternative funding. Unless something happened, of course. God forbid another tree decided to plant its branches in the middle of our practice ring. But I also didn’t want to let this opportunity slip through our fingers. Not when we had fame and power behind us. And that momentum meant we could get a leg up in the Circuit and be one step closer to becoming the best gym in Seattle.
Not to mention a legit gym.
“We also have a deadline.” My smile didn’t fully reach my face. “Troy’s not going to wait. What if the Circuit fades out again after this year? We have two good opportunities on our plates—”
“There’s nothing ‘good’ about Troy’s bullshit offer, Ari.”
“Could you not bite my head off here?”
Frankie grunted and threw a hand through his hair. “He only wants us to suck his dick for a little fame and money.”
I held up my hands. “I promise there will be no Troy dick sucking.” A smile split my face. “But I can’t promise about any other dick sucking.”
At least that got him to smile. He shook his head and let out a long sigh. “We don’t have a choice, do we?”
“Not much of one, no.”
“And River is part of that plan?”
“Yep.”
He glanced at the picture of my dad on my desk. “At least we’d be putting his dream into motion.”
My cheeks warmed. “I think he’d be proud of that.”
“I think he’d be more proud of your fight.” Frankie came around the desk and pulled me into his chest. His grin was somehow insufferable and downright sinful. “I’d be surprised if Misty still has two brain cells to rub together.”
“Like she had them before,” I joked and set my hands on his chest. “I had a good coach.”
“I’d say.”
“He showed me plenty of techniques.” I squeezed his pecs, and Frankie’s smirk only grew. “Both in and out of the ring.”
“Like what?”
“Like how to kick your opponent’s ass.”
Frankie laughed. “The only ass I want you to kick from now on is mine, Ari.”
“Well, good thing that’s not all he taught me.”
“What else?”
“He taught me how to take someone out with just one hit.”
Frankie gripped my waist and maneuvered us so my ass hit the edge of my desk. When he leaned over me, his strong, thick body encompassed mine. “Go on.”
“And how to keep your eye on the end goal.” I hopped up on the edge of the desk and spread my legs. “Especially when other shit gets in the way.”
He slipped between my legs, setting his hands on either side of my hips. When his hot breath fanned my face, I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering.
“And what’s your end goal here, Ari?”