Page 30 of What Comes Around

I blinked once. “You’re not worried about getting injured before that?”

He shrugged. “I avoid falling into tables with strangers.”

“Wise strategy.”

“I’m Leo,” he said.

“Ashley.”

“No last name?” he asked.

“Not for men who steal chairs.”

He grinned. “I respect that boundary.”

I smiled faintly.

“You don’t look like you watch MMA,” he added.

“I don’t,” I admitted. “I watch numbers. Less bloody.”

“Shame,” he said. “I’m very impressive when I bleed.”

A soft laugh escaped me despite myself.

Our food arrived a moment later.

We talked while we ate. About Vegas. About fighting. About work. About the strange ways people ended up in careers they had never planned.

He was surprisingly intelligent, quick with humor and sharp with his observations.

And he was clearly interested.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes moving over me without apology.

“I like you,” he said.

“I know.”

He laughed.

“Can I have your number?”

“No.”

He blinked. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

I shrugged.

“Harsh.”

“Accurate.”

He smiled anyway. “I’ll see you again.”

“Maybe,” I replied. “And good luck with your fight.”

He stood, gave me a respectful nod, then walked away without pushing further.