Page 150 of Hearts Storm

Reaching into the mini-fridge, Ari takes out a bottle of champagne. “Let’s get this party started.”

sixty-seven

Loud music and the roar of the crowd bounce off the walls of the arena as we follow the attendant down the stairs. The place is packed—thousands of people crammed into tiered seats.

The bass from a hip-hop track blasts through the speakers, vibrating through the soles of my shoes, and I have to grip Ari’s arm to keep from stumbling in excitement.

Our attendant, a young man in a black polo with a headset and a clipboard, leads us down to the front row of the VIP section. Right up against the barrier, less than ten feet from the cage.

The attendant gestures to our seats. “Here you go, sir. Seats one through five. Enjoy the fight.”

“Thanks, man.” Brex hands him a folded bill, and the kid’s eyes go wide as he stutters out a “Wow, thanks!” before disappearing into the crowd.

Ari and I take seats three and four.

“Holy shit,” she says, craning her neck to take it all in. “The view from here is amazing.”

The tickets must have cost a fortune. We’re so close, I can see every scuff mark on the canvas. Close enough to see every drop of sweat that’s going to fly when the fighters start throwing hands.

Logan’s jaw tightens as he eyes the seat next to me. When he glances over his shoulder at Brex, something unspoken passes between them.

When Brex angles his body in an attempt to brush past him, Logan shoots his arm out to block his path.

“Oh, come on, man,” Brex groans, voice dropping into that low, playful rumble which tells me he’s about to push every single one of Logan’s buttons.

The music is so loud, I can only catch parts of what they’re saying because they lower their voices and get in each other’s faces.

“—owe my brother big for these tickets⁠—”

“—I booked the hotel⁠—”

“—yeah, well, I flew us here⁠—”

Blue eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter, Ari leans in close. “Are they actually arguing about who gets to sit next to you?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Yup.”

“They’re ridiculous.”

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s kind of hot.”

“You have no idea.”

We watch as Brex plants his feet, crosses his arms over his broad chest before leaning in close to Logan’s ear.

What he says next has Logan cutting a glance at me and then back to Brex, narrowing his eyes with a dip of his chin before stepping aside with a grunt.

Sliding past him with a triumphant grin, Brex claims the seat next to mine. “Sorry, Lo. Better luck next time,” he quips, settling in with an exaggerated stretch.

Logan drops into the seat next to Brex with a scowl.

Brex leans over. “Rune should be here any minute,” he explains, nodding toward the empty seat next to Ari. “Texted he’s running late.”

“Who’s Rune?” Ari asks.

“One of my brothers.”