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Somehow I doubted it but I didn’t want to piss on her cloud. Not yet anyway. My own cloud was pretty full at the moment, as was the rapidly tightening area in my chest. “You never doubted me.”
“No. Not for a second.” She stepped forward, eliminating the space between us. Her dark eyes clear and steady on mine. “I believe in you. One hundred percent.”
“Ditto.” I cleared my throat and rubbed my thumb over her lower lip. “I’m probably going to piss you off at least once an hour.”
“Undoubtedly. And vice versa.”
“Absolutely.”
Smiling faintly, she leaned up and cupped my jaw. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Me too.” Giving in to the yawning chasm of need inside me, the one only she could fill, I crushed her against me and covered her mouth with mine. “Welcome home, baby.”
Epilogue
Mia
All my life, I’d fought to believe that love healed. I’d heard it. I’d seen it. But I’d never felt it, all the way down to my bones. I’d never been the recipient of a love so strong that even I couldn’t break it.
If someone had told me it existed even for someone like me, I would’ve laughed. I wasn’t looking for love. I wanted to fight. The irony that my need to fight had led me to love wasn’t lost on me. I’d only stopped running when I found something worth sticking around for.
Not just Tray, but me.
Me.
I wasn’t all that crappy of a girlfriend. Or sister. Or person in general. I didn’t know how to cook, I sucked at being flirtatious and I tended to react to annoyances by raising my fists. But you know what? Some people liked me that way.
Some people loved me, baggage and all. Not in spite of who I was, but because of it.
“Happy birthday, Fox,” Carly called, holding out her covered cake pan. “Surprise!”
Tray looked up from the textbook open on his desk to where Carly and I stood in the doorway to his closet-sized office at The Cage. Since Tray and I were now both part-time trainers, we actually shared one, which wasn’t saying much since our office was full of his stuff. I had a folding chair and a corner of the desk currently covered in books and notebooks and about sixteen pens.
He’d started preparing for his NYU entrance exam, hence the book paraphernalia. The glasses he wore were a recent addition after his surgery. He’d come through it like a champ and his vision was almost back to normal, but he claimed he’d hung up his gloves for glasses.
I understood, since I’d hung up mine too. Now that I had a lot of reasons to stay healthy, I wasn’t about to risk it if the payoff wasn’t spectacular. Someone wise had once told me the fight wasn’t what mattered, but what you were fighting for. I could always make money in other ways.
My biggest regret was that I’d ever worn a titty top for that fuckjob Costas. He still held the date with Carly over my head, saying he’d been promised it as a condition of setting up a fight with me. As long as my sister agreed, he insisted I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him from what he was rightfully owed. That remained to be seen.
You could take the girl out of the ring, but you couldn’t take the fighter out of the girl…
“You made me a cake?” Tray rose, obviously delighted by our unexpected lunchtime visit. He also clearly did not re
cognize the pan Carly held. “Fuckin’ A. You’re the best, squirt.”
“Sure did.” Carly beamed. “German chocolate with chocolate icing and custard filling.”
“Oh man. Thank you. I’m starving.” He cast a suspicious look at the sound I made, crossed between a cough and a giggle, but I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
When Carly popped the lid off the cake and he saw which one it was—and the little weasely face that covered the tip—I lost it. Grabbing my belly, I turned away and gasped for air. “Oh God.” I couldn’t stop laughing. “I should’ve brought my camera.”
“You put a face on my penis?” The outrage in his voice made me laugh even harder.
“It’s not your penis, per se. I wouldn’t know what that looks like. Ame refuses to take pictures.”
“Sicko.”
Carly ignored me. “It’s just a generic penis, but I wanted to make it specific for you. So, ta da, it has a fox face.”
