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“The elusive girlfriend. Will I ever get to meet her?”

Look in the mirror, beautiful.

“Is that why you invited me here? To talk about my girlfriend? We could’ve done that at home.” In the shower.

“I thought you could help me study.”

“Me?”

“You’re a lot smarter than you let on.”

“Thanks?” Do I come off as stupid?

“Who knows. Maybe it’ll inspire you to go to college yourself.”

“I don’t want to go to college,” I tell her as I pull out the chair across from her.

“What do you want to do?”

That has me pausing. “I don’t know.”

“MMA isn’t sustainable long-term.”

I throw out a couple side-eyes to the people on either side of us. Luckily, everyone’s buried in their own laptops. Looks like they all have earbuds in, too. She probably didn’t need to make the girlfriend comment. Unless she just wanted to be a smartass.

“I want you around for a long time.”

My eyes land back on her.

“You do?”

The smile she gives me makes my heart beat faster.

“Who else is going to make me dinner?” she asks, reminding me of Sera’s fuck-ass insult. Although she intended it as an insult, I didn’t take it as one. I’d rather be Kota’s wife than anyone else’s husband.

But since I also enjoy being a smartass, I answer with a deadpanned, “Any chef in this town.”

Now she’s laughing, showing off those straight white teeth that were just locked on my bicep this morning.

She hands me her iPad, the screen full of her handwriting. I didn’t even know you could do that on one of these.

“What do I do with this?”

“Quiz me.”

It takes me a few minutes of reading through her notes to figure out what to ask. Anything I ask her though, she answers quickly and correctly. About halfway through, I realize this isn’t for her benefit, or for mine. It’s for ours. She’s pushing those boundaries of what stepsiblings can do in public. We did the grocery store thing. Now we’re doing the coffee shop thing. It’s almost, but not quite, a date. The pretense of studying is a nice touch.

If it were up to me, I’d push a bit harder, sit beside her, wrap my arm around her, maybe nibble on her neck a little, see if anybody bats an eye.

But Kota’s a good girl. She attends seminars on positivity and leadership.

Meanwhile, I make juiced-up meatheads bleed.

Opposites in every aspect, our worlds should not overlap.

But they’re starting to. First, tonight with my fight, then tomorrow at the football game. All week I’ve been turning down offers, letting Kota find a new rhythm with school. Now that it’s Friday and she can sleep in tomorrow, it’s time to get that money. I still wish she wasn’t going. I love having her by my side but not enough to risk her safety. Nothing good ever comes from pretty young girls being in large groups of men.

I’m showing Kota her iPad, asking her to decipher one of her scribbles when she frowns, looking over my head. A moment later, someone’s snicker registers.