Page 76

Riley identified the feeling of light in her chest as happiness, and it dimmed as she realized how long it had taken to figure out what it was. She wanted to feel this more. Should feel it more.

A door clanged shut, and Saint and Aaron went silent beside her. Wheeler stood, looking down into the shop, his breathing perfectly even.

Loud clicking on the stairs echoed around the loft.

A blonde ponytail appeared first, bobbing up the stairs. Kristi looked like Business Barbie in a magenta power suit and heels.

Riley beamed, pushing off the counter. “You made it!” She flung her arms around her waist in a warm hug. Kristi barely hugged her back.

“Jesus, Ri. If you’d told me they were all this hot, I would have been here on time.”

Wheeler sputtered a laugh and stepped forward. “I think you’ll fit right in. I’m Wheeler.”

Chapter 24

Riley

Riley padded into the kitchen, tiles cool under her bare feet. She grabbed a glass and ran it under the tap, and cool water slid down her throat. The TV blared as two more fighters got into the ring, and Kristi’s bright peal of laughter bounced through the loft.

Saint rose from his high-backed armchair like a warlord surveying his empire and walked over. Kristi and Wheeler were on their feet, yelling obscenities at the screen, and Aaron sat on the leather couch, trying to see between them as they danced back and forth.

“Hey.” Saint dropped several empties into the sink. “How’s it going?” His eyes were quiet as they surveyed her, and she settled with a little sigh.

“I really needed this.”

“Yeah?” Saint wiped a spill off the counter.

“Yeah,” she said. He placed the rinsed empties in the bin under the sink. The buzz she’d cultivated over the evening slipped through her fingertips. “Yeah,” she repeated and reached for a beer, twisting the cap off and dropping it in Saint’s waiting hand, resting her fingers in his for a moment.

She didn’t talk to him about work. It wasn’t his problem.

His eyes skated down her body and lingered on her bare feet, and he got the same look he’d gotten earlier when he saw her wearing his shirt. “I’m glad it helped.”

“Me too,” she said.

He leaned forward, closing the space between them, and her breath stalled in her chest. Heat radiated as he reached past her and turned on the tap, rushing water as loud as the blood in her ears.

Riley dropped her head forward into his chest with a groan, his arms skimming down her back. She could have sworn he laughed. Just as indignation began to build, he swiped a gentle thumb over her lips. “Later,” he murmured, and his teeth grazed the shell of her ear. Her entire brain blanked.

When later? In two minutes? With everyone here… maybe he’ll kick them out early. Maybe they’ll watch. I don’t care.

Riley blinked her vision clear and found two feet of space between them.

“The title fight is about to start. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Right,” she croaked.

His answering grin was gas on the fire.

She grabbed an extra beer from the fridge and followed him back across the loft.

“Thanks, babe.” Kristi took the bottle Riley offered and winked. The magenta blazer was thrown over the couch arm, and Kristi looked effortless in her tank top and slacks—the deep grey fabric set off the tan of her skin. Wedged between Wheeler and Aaron, she turned back to the TV.

Wheeler stood suddenly, eyes trained on the screen. His mouth moved but no sound came out as one of the fighters tackled the other to the ground. The audience roared.

“That’s probably not supposed to happen,” Riley muttered as one of the fighters slipped on blood and landed flat on his back with the other on top of him.

Kristi leapt to her feet, and Aaron leaned forward to catch her bottle before frothy liquid spilled. “Just stand up, you idiot!” Kristi yelled, raising her arms at the guy who slipped, twisted, and turned to avoid the fists flying at his face.