Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Wrath’s scary eyes turn toward Remy. He runs his hand over his chest. “She has access to the beefiest of beefcakes. Why would I care what she watches?”
I side-eye Remy. “Does anyone other than cartoon characters still say beefcake?”
One corner of Remy’s mouth slides up. “I was trying to pick a word from back in the olden days that he’d recognize.”
Instead of punching Remy through the wall, Wrath laughs. “I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know, kid.”
Wrath shifts his attention back to me. “Where are you going to train for this fight? Sully’s place?”
“Seems like the obvious choice since that’s where I got recruited for the show. Jake and Sully said they’d both work with me.”
“If you don’t mind the longer drive, you’re welcome to train at Furious too,” Wrath offers. “I’m a little rusty on the more technical shit, but I can help you focus on the endurance.”
Rusty. I doubt that. Wrath was lethal in the underground circuit years ago. “You mean you’ll whip me while I run on a treadmill?” I joke.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“He’s gonna start running with me in the mornings again,” Remy says. “Once he gets clearance from a doctor about his knee.”
Oh, that’s rich coming from Remy since he kicked that knee. I slowly turn and glare at him.
“Get that shit checked out first,” Wrath says. “Then stop by whenever. If I’m not there, Murphy can help you.”
“Thanks. I would like to split my time.”
Sully’s gym is closer to me, but it’s small and fills up quickly. Wrath’s place—Furious Fitness—expanded a few years ago and has a lot more equipment.
“Good deal.” Wrath reaches out and pats my shoulder. “We’ll help you get ready for fight camp and make sure you win this thing.”
After he and Jigsaw leave, Remy and I are alone—at least for now. He quickly pushes me behind the bar and into the corner next to a mirrored shelf.
“What the fuck?” he says in my ear.
“Yeah, no shit. I’m feelin’ all kinds of love bombed right now.”
“You need an entourage. Let’s find you a sponsor. Come train at my gym.” He lists off all the things that were just thrown our way.
“It’s about them showing us they’ll hold up their end of the support if we form the support club,” I say.
“Or there’s something else in it for them,” Remy finishes.
Realization runs over me like a herd of elephants. I’ve been so overwhelmed with figuring out how to structure my training cycle, I haven’t thought much further than the fight itself. Which is really fucking stupid since Remy and I have run an illegal gambling ring for years.
“It’s Vegas.” How did I not see this coming?
Remy nods slowly. “You’re the underdog.”
“Fucking seriously?” A rush of annoyance washes over me. I proved myself week after week on SUF. It’s not like all those fights aren’t available for everyone to watch and see what I can do in the ring.
“It’s your first pro fight. As far as everyone’s concerned, you’re unproven.”
That means I’m right. “So, Lost Kings have a vested interest in my training before the fight and my safety at the fight. They’re planning to place heavy bets on me to win.”
“Then I guess you better win.” Remy’s expression remains dead serious. “Because I really don’t want to be chopped into pieces and tossed in the Hudson River.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Molly
All winter long Griff and I worked on restoring my car. Every weekend I came home we spent at least a few hours at the garage putting it back together.
I aced my first semester exams, and I’m halfway through my second semester of college.
Griff hums Happy Birthday to me as we walk around the Malibu.
Happiness explodes in my chest as my gaze slides over every inch of my beautiful car. “It’s done.”
“Well, there will always be something to tweak or swap.” Griff swipes his hands on a rag and grins at me. “But for now, yes.”
“Just in time for spring break.” I jump and throw my arms around his shoulders. He catches me around the waist, lifting me.
Eagerly, I kiss his cheek, his beard stubble a slight sting against my lips. He turns and his plush lips land on mine, easing the brief sting.
He lifts me higher, breaking our kiss for a moment. Our mouths collide again. I press harder and he groans against my lips, giving me room to slide the tip of my tongue against his.
Still holding me, Griff walks the few feet to the car, pinning me against the driver’s side door. I wrap my legs around him, anchoring myself. His mouth melts against mine. I flick my tongue against his, savoring his familiar taste.
Between our clothes and coveralls there are too many barriers in our way. Certain he has me, I slide my hand to his chest and tug at the zipper.