“I’ll let you make it up to me later,” she says, running a hand across the hard plane of his stomach. Zephyr, she wants to feel those muscles flexing as he—
“K8,” James whispers, removing her hand, which has accidentally slipped between two buttons and may have been petting the fine trail of hairs her fingers found there. He places his device in her lonely palm. “Look.”
She blinks as she takes in the total displayed in his Blackmarks account, running the conversion in her mind. “This is your account balance?”
“Yes,” he says proudly. “I complete the transfer from my Off-the-Books account after every fight.”In case something were to happenis implied.
“But—” She is momentarily speechless but recovers quickly. “You have enough to cover the next month’s rent. Maybe a second if they offer a promotion.”
Relief washes over her, and she almost feels guilty at how glad she is that James has solved his own problems. She won’t have to sell her things! Oh Zephyr, does this make her a horrible person? No, James wanted to do it himself and she’s letting him. It’s respectful and considerate.
“I wanted to surprise you. A few days ago, Oro1 got access to the historical betting data. We determined that Holiday is a prime opportunity for betting,” he says.
That explains the large sum he wagered. He knew it would be worth the risk. James shrugs as if the achievement isn’t nearly as significant as K8 feels it is. She pushes her drink toward the center of the table. If she becomes any giddier, she might float away.
“I am surprised.” She grins, not caring at all about her friend essentially hacking into the illegal boxing club’s database for data. She has other things on her mind. Because if James has the next month or two covered, maybe more after the next fight, he won’t have to focus as intently. That will free him up to do other things. Namely, her. She can’t resist the urge to press herself suggestively against his side. “I’m very impressed.” His warmth seeps between their clothing and she can almost imagine the glorious sensations their skin touching would elicit if the fabric weren’t there. “Does this mean that tonight you’ll—”
Oro1 clears his throat.
She peels herself off James, turning to address her friends. Oro1 is giving her a pointed look. Jett grins knowingly and Sable’s face pinches in disgust.
She’s about to voice a protest when a voice she never believed she would hear again booms, “It’s that mad woman!”
Her blood attempts to flee her body all at once. She’s lightheaded as she reaches for James. They turn to the commotion behind her.
Viper is stomping toward her. His long blond hair is bound at the nape of his neck and his copper eyes are flashing with something that frightens her. Is this about her rejection?
The irate man stops two feet from her, and she feels James take a step toward him.
“You. Cursed. Me,” Viper hisses.
K8 blinks, momentarily struck speechless. Is he serious? “But curses aren’t real.”
“My coworkers reported me for your outburst at my workplace. Then my manupartner malfunctioned the day I saw you in the food court with the cat woman,” he barks.
Cat woman? “Oh, you mean Sister Xelna?” K8 asks, still confused and a little nervous about where this conversation is going. James puts a steadying hand on the small of her back. Controlled tension radiates off him.
Viper ignores her question in favor of throwing another accusation her way. “And you just happen to show up the night I lose all the Blackmarks in my account.”
She shuffles back a step, seeking James’s warmth.
Oro1 moves to stand on her other side. “I’m sure whatever this is about can all be smoothed over with a drink.”
Viper holds out his device. “A drink I can no longer pay for.”
“I’m not sure what your bad luck has to do with K8,” James says. His arm slips protectively around her waist. “But I suggest you find someone else to air your grievances to.”
“What did I do to you that I deserve this?” Viper demands, ignoring James. He waves the device wildly in the air as if it supports his inquiry. “Tell me.”
“I . . .” K8 hesitates. What can she possibly say? It’s not like she’s going to explain to Viper, in front of James and the newly gathered onlookers, that his participation in a misguided fantasy of hers when she was in her twenties emotionally scarred her. Then she dwelled on it for the next sixty years. Oh Zorg, is that what she did?
Before she can open her mouth to say something, anything, Viper’s eyes flick to something behind them. “Sable?” His eyes narrow as they jump between her friends.
The air hangs taut between them, and it’s clear that Viper is doing his best to process what he’s seeing. This can’t be good. In fact, this is probably very bad. She glances back at James. “We should go.”
“I see what’s going on here.” Viper rubs his chin as a startling grin spreads across his pale face.
Sable walks around the table to stand beside James. She squares her shoulders. “There’s no rule against me participating on my off nights.”
