I finally spot my parents and some of my foster brothers and sisters in tow.
“Rachel.” My mum throws her arms around her.
“Hi, Lily,” she says, smiling at Mum’s excessive need to hug.
My mum gushes over the bruise breaking out across my cheek, and I try to wave it off, but she makes a point of coddling me in front of Rachel. I let out a groan.
“We need to go back and get ready for the next fight,” I say. It’s only half true—no one would think badly of me if I didn’t stay to watch all the fights, but I do want to support the other fighters.
Before I know it, the evening is already coming to an end.
“Okay, I need to go wrap this shindig up,” I say to Rachel before releasing my hold on her hand.
Climbing into the middle of the ring, I take the mic and work my way through the speech I memorised—thanking everyone for attending, recognising the sponsors and all the charity donations.
The giant cheque is handed to me, the amount raised exceeding my expectations. Over five hundred thousand pounds. I couldn’t be more humbled than I am at this moment.
Camera flashes go wild in every direction as I hold it up to show all the guests. The cheers are deafening.
This money will make such a difference. It will go towards the shelters and the walk-in centres for abused women and their children. I wonder—if this was a thing back when I was younger, if my mum would have taken the risk. Would she have left my dad?
As soon as we walk through my threshold, I kiss Rachel with vigour. My hands caress the material clinging to her like a second skin.
“Did I tell you how edible you look tonight?” I breathe into her mouth.
Her lips twitch into a smile. “Edible, hey?”
“Yep, and you remember what I said earlier about making it worth your while if you came home with me?”
She giggles, then pulls back, searching the hallway. “Where’s Buster?”
“At my mum’s. I haven’t been here all day, and it wouldn’t have been fair on him.” I love that she asks after him. To most, he might have been a lost cause, but not to me.
Delicately, I begin to pepper her face with kisses. Sounds of satisfaction escape her as I move to her cheeks, her chin and eventually plant a kiss on her neck. She softens under my touch, and I swoop her into my arms bridal-style.
She gasps. “What are you doing?” she asks, eyes shining with want and lust.
“I’m going to make good on my promise,” I say, before sucking her bottom lip between both of mine. A moan of pleasure escapes her mouth, and I know I need to take her to my bed right now so I can worship every inch of her body before sinking myself balls-deep inside her.
RACHEL
A noise rouses me from my slumber. I turn to my side to find Olly’s spot empty. I stretch, and my joints protest like they always do upon waking. Grabbing my phone, I check for the time—four in the morning. I reach for the nearest item of clothing and slip it over my head.
Going in search of Olly, I follow a metaltappingsound and come to a stop when I find him. The patio door is open, and he is sitting on one of the chairs—knitting.
I watch him intently, mesmerised by his ability to continually interlink loops of yarn without even looking. He’s fixated on staring out into the expanse of the early morning sky.
Olly peers over his shoulder with a smile; I take it as an invitation to join him. He places the ball of wool and needles beside him. Holding out his hand, he pulls me into his lap. “You caught me,” he says, his voice hoarse.
“So, knitting—is that a pastime of yours?” I ask, stroking the back of his neck with my fingertips.
“Something like that. When I was younger, and I suffered from night terrors, we tried all sorts of things. The only thing that seemed to help with my PTSD was knitting.” He shrugs off his admission with a shy smile. I know he has nightmares, even now, but he never really talks about them.
“You seem quite the pro. Does that mean you knit for your family?”
His face now takes on a red hue. He clears his throat. “I’ve been known to knit a scarf or two, but now I knit hats for the premature baby unit at the local hospital.”
I am momentarily stunned, blown away by this man. “You do?”
