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“Consider me already gone.”
The door slams with a shattering bang, and we stand in silence for a moment. “They seem nice,” I say, trying to hold back my tears.
Xander scoffs but pulls me against him once again. “I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he says as he leans his head down to my shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him, brushing my fingers up his strong back before running my nails through his hair. “Are you okay?”
He pulls back ever so slightly so he can look me in the eye. “You know, I think I am. I feel free,” he says with a heavy breath that contradicts what he just said. “I never have to worry about them again. I can pursue MMA, join the professional circuit, and make whatever career choices I want.”
I smile up at him, hoping he really is okay. He seems full of confidence, like nothing can stop him from getting what he wants, and the more I watch him, the more I start to believe it. Honestly, I’ve never been so proud.
“Alright, babe,” he says, pulling me toward the couch and flopping down. He pulls his iPad out of the coffee table drawer and puts it on my lap. “Get searching. We have a week to find a new place.”
“Okay,” I say. “But you know Micky would let us stay at the bar. There’s no reason to rush.”
He becomes thoughtful, but I knew he wouldn’t be too keen on the idea. “I don’t know. I’d feel like I was taking advantage of his hospitality.”
“He wouldn’t feel that way,” I tell him.
“I know, but I would,” he explains.
“Fine,” I say, swiping my finger across the screen to unlock it. I pull up a search and find hundreds of listings that I could only dream about before I narrow my search to places a little more in our realm of expectations. I point out a few, and less than an hour later, we’re walking through properties and crossing them right off our list.
By the time night has fallen, we’re both exhausted and curled up in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. “So, if the cat’s out of the bag now, does that mean you can start training for the professional circuit?” I ask with a yawn.
“Technically I can, but I want to finish the competition first before I put my name out there. I can’t have anything leading me back to the Underground once I go pro,” he explains.
“Oh, really?” I ask, a little disappointed by the images of Pitbull flashing in my mind.
“Yeah, I can’t give in now, especially after everything that’s happened. It would mean it was all for nothing.”
“Yeah,” I agree, understanding where he’s coming from. “I guess I’m just nervous about Pitbull.”
“Don’t be,” he says, pulling me in tighter. “I’ll be fine. There are only a few weeks left until this is over. I can handle him.”
“I know,” I sigh.
Xander rolls me over and presses his lips to mine. “Quit worrying so much,” he tells me.
“I can’t help it,” I grin as another yawn takes over. I lay my head down on Xander’s chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart.
Sleep takes over within moments, and before I know it, I’m waking up to start another day in the arms of the man I love.
Chapter 18
XANDER
It’s been five days since my parent’s intrusion, and life couldn’t be better. Or at least, it will be the second we get out of that house. Even though it’s over, it still pisses me off the way they barged into my home and spoke to my girl. I can handle the shit they give me. After all, I’ve gotten it from them my whole life. But for them to turn that bullshit on Charli, it was uncalled for, and completely sealed the deal for me.
From that moment, I swore to myself that I will never put myself or Charli through the ugliness of my parents again. They will never intrude on our future, never make demands of me, and sure as fuck never call my girl a hussy ever again.
I have no doubt that I will make it in the professional circuit, and I know the moment my name starts spreading around, my parents will be right back, begging for a piece of the pie. But they’ve burned their bridges, and I’ll never go back on my word. I’m finally done with them.
Cole and the boys at Rebels Advocate were thrilled when I walked in on Monday morning as a free agent. They always hated the hockey thing. Not the actual sport, but knowing it wasn’t what I wanted and that I was wasting good energy that could have been dedicated to upcoming fights.
I spent the next few days the same—fucking my girl until she came. She would then go to the salon, and I would go to Rebels. We’d each spend our days doing what we did best before heading home, cooking dinner, and making sweet, sweet love.
