Page 78 of Unwritten Rules

Make sure you pull up around back. You were right. It’s busy.

Finding my way quickly through the ivy, I locate the stairs and am outside the door to my current version of physical release within moments.

As I shove the heavy door open wide, my senses are overtaken by an overload of sight, sound, and smell.

The crowd is heaving, shouting for whoever is either doing the pummelling or being pummelled in the ring. Their bodies are moving almost in unison, their voices dominating my ears as the inimitable smell of flesh on bloody flesh overpowers my nostrils.

Harold spots me immediately, nodding in assent while waiting for the current match to be completed.

It doesn’t take long.

Taylor finds my eyes across the crowd. The gleam within them excites me when I realise tonight’s the night.

Taylor throws a lacklustre right hook at his wobbly opponent, turning away long before the other man drops like a stone, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

The crowd breaks into raucous cheers as Harold holds Taylor’s right hand high above his head.

“And the winner, by TKO, is Jameson.”

He grins broadly, then winks, pulling a wry smile from my mouth.

I unbutton my shirt, moving closer to the ring as Harold announces the next bout will be Jameson vs Hawthorne. And a hush descends on the crowd, making my skin tingle in anticipation.

Fuck, I could cancel with V. A fight with Taylor, blowing off some steam. This is precisely what I need.

Stopping at the side of the ring, I pull my phone from my pocket to shoot her a text, but I freeze when I see she’s beaten me to it.

V

I’m out back. Be quick. Antonia texted to say Eleanor is awake.

Shit.

I raise my eyes to find Taylor’s outstretched hand before me, an offer to help me into the ring.

“It’s going to have to wait, Jameson. I need to leave.” I hold up the phone. “Duty calls.”

He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Speaking of duty, have you heard my news? I’m engaged to be married. Though an engagement and a duty are not exclusive now, are they? And you’d know all about both, wouldn’t you, Hawthorne?”

I shrug as though his words haven’t affected me. “As I was raised to be a gentleman, I’ll ignore that one until I eventually get you in the ring – and that will be when you know precisely how much anger rages beneath the surface.”

Striding around the side of the ring, I make for the little-used, lesser-known back door, spotting V’s car not far from the kitchen garden.

A spotlight illuminates the area when I step onto the gravel, and she smiles knowingly when she spots my deshabille. Finally, I reach her, dropping my hands onto her very large, very pregnant bump and ask my usual question.

“How’s my little one?”

She swats me playfully, pulling me in for a brief hug – or as much of a hug as her belly will allow – before stepping back and wagging her forefinger at me, scolding me like an errant child.

“This has got to stop. And, Nate – I’ve realised I’m a bigger fool for entertaining this. You need to tell everyone the truth. We can’t help who we fall in love with—”

She stops short when her eyes pan to my right, popping wide with whatever has drawn her attention.

Her words reach my ears in a bare whisper. “Shit, meet fan.”

Almost as though in slow motion, I turn my torso to look over my shoulder, only for my stomach to lurch, threatening to expel what little contents it contains, when my eyes find Mila’s furious gaze.

“A sex club? You left without so much as a goodbye to come to a sex club? To your blatantly pregnant girlfriend?!”