Crushed

By Skyla Madi

Crushed

Copyright © 2017 by Skyla Madi.

All rights reserved.

First Print Edition: July 2017

Limitless Publishing, LLC

Kailua, HI 96734

www.limitlesspublishing.com

Formatting: Limitless Publishing

ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-168-5

ISBN-10: 1-64034-168-4

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To the readers who waited patiently while I

figured out Selena and Jackson’s story.

Thank you.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

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Chapter One

Selena

He slips two hot fingers between the leather on his belt and the skin of my throat. I swallow hard, my nerves dancing along my pores, as his beautiful lips curve into a devilish smirk.

Jackson Quinn.

Lover…

Hater…

Fighter…

…undeniably, the greatest love of my life.

I wiggle my toes underneath me, shifting my heels as I rest back on them, nervously tapping my thumb against my thigh.

“You look scared,” he points out, lowering his face to mine.

His green eyes dance with joy, glistening like emeralds. Our noses brush and I hold my breath, desperate not to breathe him in. I’ve decided that his aura is toxic.

It’s toxic to my body…

…toxic to my heart…

…toxic to my soul.

I shake my head, a simple lie to mask the rapid beat of my heart. His bright, green irises darken as he draws his eyebrows closer, like the angry clouds of an impending thunderstorm.

Pulling back, he tugs on the belt, sliding his thick fingers along the buckle. It tightens, squeezing my throat. I swallow again and this time it’s less comfortable.

Panic flares inside me, only to be trumped by excitement. I inhale through my nose and fill my lungs to capacity. As long as I can fill my lungs and breathe, what’s the harm? My lids grow heavy with lust and heat swells inside of me as I cave and breathe him in. The air around him, the air that fills my body, is magnificent. It flows through my blood and sets fire to every cell—every fiber in my being. It blows over my brain, soothing me like nicotine soothes a smoker.

Absolute perfection.

“How does that feel?”

I open my mouth and a heavy rasp of air falls out. Amusement lights up his face and he reaches out, gliding his finger across the underside of my bare, straining nipple.

“If I could keep you like this all of the time…”

I close my eyes. I don’t know what has happened to Jackson. One week he’s singing my praises, telling me he loves me, and we’re having sex like normal people, and the next he’s keeping his distance, treating me like I have some kind of disease he doesn’t want to catch.

Tonight…tonight I don’t know what I am to him. He showed up like he always shows up, angry and sore, the second hand of the clock ticking its way closer to two a.m. There’s a cut on his cheekbone. It’s long and deep, and it’s all salved up. My stomach cramps at the thought of someone else rubbing cream into his cuts—at the thought of someone else being there for him when he’s hurt. It should be me. It should always be me. Out of jealousy, I fight him, but it always ends with my heart being crushed under the weight of his as he fucks parts of his magnificent anatomy in and out of my willing body. Tonight is no exception.

Oh, how I long for an exception.

“You shouldn’t argue so much,” he mutters, stroking the leather of his belt.

I glare at him. “You shouldn’t keep things from me.”

My throat hurts as I speak, but if I don’t get these words out I’m going to implode.

“I do it to give you peace of mind.”

“Not knowing where you are does not give me peace of mind.” I swallow hard, cringing as my throat squeezes against leather. “You showing up in the early hours of the morning beaten and bruised does not make me feel good.”

Amusement flickers across his features. “You’re mad at me?”

I nod.

“What for? For not being here? For not handing over my balls for you to carry in your gigantic purse? For not being strapped to your hip, like Seth is to Olivia?”

I scowl at him. This isn’t about that. This isn’t about whether I have control over him or not and it certainly has nothing to do with Seth or Olivia.

“You have a cut on your cheek…and it has cream on it.”

He straightens his posture, his crotch leveling with my face. “And?”

The way he says the word grinds my gears, like the cut is something he’s always had.

“And I know you don’t look after yourself, so someone had to have put it there for you.”

Jackson quirks his eyebrow in delight, his irises dancing with excitement. He loves jealousy games. He loves taunting me with the possibility of him giving his body to another woman in my absence. I used to love playing along too. Once upon a time I found it acceptable, since we weren’t exclusive to each other, but now…God help the female who puts her hands on him.

“Tall,” Jackson utters, his lips curling at the corners as he drags down the zipper of his dark jeans. “And blonde, like you.”

I dig my nails into my thighs instead of lashing out at him. “You’re disgusting.”

“So bitter…” He grins at me, pulling his cock from his pants.

I look at it. Excitement and fear clash in my stomach. Every time I lay eyes on his beautiful penis, I wonder how he’s going to fit it into my body. Then I remember all of the times he has been inside me and how perfectly we fit together.

Like two puzzles pieces.

Like a lock and key.

He steps closer, gripping his thick shaft in one hand, and drags the head of his warm cock along my lower lip. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, careful not to give in to my baser desire to lick his tip and watch him shiver.

“Gentle hands,” he continues. “A tight, fit body…”

I turn my head and cut my eyes at him. “Fuck you.”

Growling, Jackson snatches me by the arms, picks me up off the floor, and throws me onto my bed. Yelping, I bounce once before he crushes his heavy, heavy body against mine and slips effortlessly between my thighs. The smell of him overwhelms me in the sweetest of ways. When he arrived here, he showered, using my pomegranate body wash. It smells different on his skin, fusing beautifully with his natural scent.

“He also had a cock, which is a deal breaker for me.”

“He?” My anger dissolves as I frown.

The person who rubbed salve into his skin was a he? Jackson nods, dragging his index finger across my bottom lip. He rocks slightly, his dick sliding against my thigh. “You think I would let anyone touch me other than you?”

He flexes his hips forward and I shift my thighs. The tip of his cock touches my entrance and his breath hitches. So close. So. Damn. Close.

“You think I want anyone other than you?” He slips his finger inside my mouth and I touch it with my tongue, tasting his clean flesh. “You are the only woman for me, Selena. The only woman.”

He pulls his finger out, dragging it along my lower lip.

“You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

I frown. Wouldn’t he? I don’t know what to think anymore. Sometimes I can’t help but get the feeling he’s only stringing me along to fulfill his sexual needs. Jackson reaches for the belt around my throat and fiddles with the strap and buckle. Cool air rushes into my lungs as the leather is loosened and falls away from my skin. He tugs the belt out from underneath me and tosses it to the floor. I touch my throat as he rears back onto his knees and pulls his shirt off over his head before he throws it away.

I drag my gaze over his beautifully tattooed body. It’s terrifying and striking all in one. How many sessions has he sat through? Which ones hurt the most?

“I love you,” he tells me, leaning over me to kiss my jaw. “You know that, right?”

I swallow hard, flicking my attention from his body to his handsome face. I do know it. Sometimes I just need a little reassurance. “Yeah. I know it.”

Jackson tightens his jaw. Granted, I didn’t sound as certain as I was supposed to sound. He takes my wrist in his gigantic hand and glides my palm along his bare shoulder. His skin is soft, smooth, warm, and nerves dance in the dead center of my palm at the feel of it.

“I won’t hurt you,” he murmurs, sliding his warm forehead against mine. “We can do it your way instead.”

My heart thunders in my chest and I wonder if he can feel it pounding against his. We don’t have “plain” sex often…only when he feels bad or when I complain that our intimacy is suffering. He knows I no longer enjoy feeling like I’m an object to him. There’s no emotion in the sex he likes to have. He barely kisses me, barely holds me. At one point, I thrived off of the carnality of it and relished in the way he enjoyed my body, taking without asking, taking with such force. Hell, I even liked the way he turned my pain into unrelenting pleasure, but now I want something deeper. I want love making. I want marriage. I want children. I want a husband who isn’t so fucked up over an ex-girlfriend who was never there for him…

…and I’m tired of the fighting. I’m tired of the cuts and the bruises and the aggression. I’m just…tired.

“What are you thinking?” Jackson asks, brushing his thumb along my lower lip.

Despite my lack of response, his eyes are still lusty slits, his cock still hard and determined between my legs.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

His dark eyes flash dangerously “You’re a terrible liar.”

Kissing me, he swipes his tongue along my lower lip, coaxing me into opening my mouth to him. Our tongues intertwine and I spread my thighs wider as he rolls his hips, pressing firmly against my center, eager to inch inside. Unease burrows through me…because I’m keeping a huge secret from him. A secret I don’t think I can ever tell him for fear of his irrational reaction.

Contrary to his belief, I can’t be too terrible at lying because, despite my erratic behavior and nausea, he still doesn’t know that I’m carrying his child.

Chapter Two

Jackson

Seth swings hard, slamming his heavy fist into my ribs. Air is squeezed from my lungs as my ribs compress. Grunting, I slouch forward and he goes for my head.

Thump. One hit rocks me and I stumble backwards.

Thump. The second one drops me to my knees.

Groaning, I place my gloved hand on the canvas at my feet to steady myself. My brain rolls in my head and I can’t think straight.

“What the fuck, Jackson?” Seth spits and I ignore the pain in the back of my neck as I lift my head to look at him.

He rips off his red gloves with ease and tosses them out of the ring. They just miss Darryl, who chats with Olivia by the treadmills. Wide-eyed, they turn to watch us. The canvas shakes as Seth storms toward me, his wide body tight and threatening, like always. I exhale. I’m not in the mood for this shit today. I sit back on my heels and open the Velcro around my wrists with my teeth.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demands, raking five angry fingers through his short, dark hair.

I shrug, ripping off my gloves. “I’m tired.”

“I bet you are. Fighting and fucking all night.” He scoops up my gloves and throws them at the wall. “There are rules you have to follow if I’m going to risk everything I have built to help you! There are protocols and commitments and—”

I laugh and Seth stops, gritting his teeth. “What’s so damn funny?”

“We’ve already had this conversation,” I point out, taking off my headgear. “But it was me saying this shit to you.”

Seth’s dark eyes lighten as he smooths out his eyebrows with a rich chuckle. “Fuck.”

Sauntering to the side, Seth leans against the ropes, running an index finger under the waistband of his black shorts to adjust them. “Olivia, grab me another towel, please.”

I wonder if Seth has ever had to worry about Olivia like I worry about Selena? After they have sex, does he find himself wondering if he was caring enough? Wondering if he’d shown her just how much he loves her and if it was in the right way? That’s what plagues me today. I keep asking myself, did I show Selena enough? Because she went out of her way to avoid me from the moment she woke up.

Olivia is a beautiful woman, incredibly beautiful, but she doesn’t have that irresistible edge that draws my attention and holds it. Olivia is comfortable inside her little bubble, but Selena…she’s not comfortable with anything. I’ve lost count of how many degrees she has started and how many different careers she has tried out. Selena’s father is currently paying off all of her half-assed studying attempts and now she’s back to working part-time as his receptionist.

Unlike Olivia, Selena is reckless and passionate. She’s always spiraling out of control and she doesn’t care who she hits along the way. That’s something I’ve been attracted to since the moment I met her.

Olivia jogs across the floor and over to Seth. Grabbing the thick, red rope in her small hand, she lifts herself onto the edge of the ring and gives him the towel. Seth snags her by the collar of her white polo and plants a fast kiss on her lips. “Thanks.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

I roll my eyes, tossing my headgear at him. If I saved a dollar for every time I had to sit through public displays of affection from these two I wouldn’t have to keep fighting in order to get by.

“Put your gloves on,” he tells her as he bends low and scoops up the headgear I threw at him before we started.

It’s for Olivia, I first assume, only he puts the headgear on himself. I frown, forcing myself to my feet while Olivia jogs the distance of the gym for her small pair of pink and white gloves on the other side. She and Selena bought matching pairs, but I haven’t been able to get Selena into hers—outside of role playing in the bedroom, that is.

“What are you wearing headgear for?”

Seth laughs. “Don’t give me that look, and definitely don’t underestimate her. She’s pretty quick.”

I fold my arms. “You didn’t wear a helmet when you sparred with me.”

He shrugs. “She’s more terrifying than you.”

Bastard.

“Get out of the way, Quinn,” Olivia shouts as she slides into the ring. “I’ve been waiting for this all morning.”

Uh-oh. Someone’s in trouble. I gladly slip between the ropes and stand on the floor beside Darryl, who goes over and over my stats on his clipboard. “Keep going at this rate, Jackson, and you won’t even make it past try-outs.”

I ignore him. Why? Because, in all honesty, who fucking cares?

Olivia sizes Seth up, planting her feet and holding her body like any professional would. Seth is delighted. There’s a quirk in his lips and a glimmer in his eyes as he tells her the routine. She does it. Just like he said, she’s quick and her technique is fucking flawless. I guess someone has been getting private lessons. As he blocks her, dipping and ducking, Seth explains to me the best way to defend from an opponent who is faster than you…

…which is not news to me.

I exhale. Bored. They think that by drilling the same stuff into me over and over it’s somehow going to make me a better fighter. It isn’t. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of all of it. I’m not like Seth. I don’t have the patience for this shit. I thought I did. I thought doing it professionally was something I wanted, but…I’m not so sure anymore.

And I’m too fucking scared to tell him or Darryl because they’ve both invested so much time in me already. We’ve been at this for sixteen months. Sixteen. Months. In eight months, I’m competing on a recognized level instead of those shitty illegal underground matches I indulge in to get by. Sixteen months is a lot of time to waste on a guy who doesn’t care enough…I’ve already wasted so much of their time.

Thump. Thump. My attention is dragged back to Seth and Olivia as she lands two solid hits to his gut, making him groan. Cursing, he pulls her into a clench, holding her tightly against his sweaty chest. Here we go.

I pretend to look at Darryl’s clipboard as he matches times together, but strain my ears to hear their conversation.

“You’re mad at me?” Seth asks her. “Because I told you leggings weren’t pants?”

I simper.

“They are pants. Yoga pants. The word pants is in the name,” Olivia protests, slipping from his grasp. “I would wear them forever if I could.”

She creates distance between them and then shoots forward, swinging her tiny left arm, her gloved fist shooting for his face.

He ducks her blow. “I know you would, but do they have to come out of the house?”

“You’re embarrassed by them?”

Thump. She connects with his ribs and I lift my gaze as a small smile spreads along her lips.

“No.” He grabs her again, holding her lower this time. “They make your ass and legs look so fucking good…I don’t want anyone else noticing.”

I look at her butt and Darryl nudges me. “Don’t.”

I pull a face at him. What? It’s not like I’m going to touch it, but I guess it doesn’t make a difference to Seth. He’d kick my ass if he ever caught me looking anywhere lower than Olivia’s eyes.

“I don’t want anyone else to fantasize about ripping them open, like I did two weeks ago.”

I suck air between my lips. Okay. Time to go.

Darryl lowers his clipboard. “I’ll buy you lunch if you can get me out of here before his shorts come off. I’ve seen enough of his bare ass to last me a lifetime.”

God knows I have too. “Done. We can get pizza tomorrow.”

Seth!” I shout, scratching the back of my head. “I have a meeting. I gotta go.”

He doesn’t take his stare off Olivia. “We’re still on for tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“You look sexy in a pair of gloves,” Seth mutters to her. “Have I told you that?”

“Every time I put a pair on.”

Darryl and I turn away and head for the exit. Their conversation melts into whispers and Olivia giggles. I frown, peering over my shoulder as Seth lifts her up and she wraps her legs around his hips with a genuine laugh. I clench my teeth. To be honest, I hate being around them…

…because I want what they have. Sure, they have their problems, but they’re normal problems, you know? She complains because he’s working too hard. He complains because they haven’t had sex in a while and Chloe is going through a phase where she refuses to sleep in her own room. Olivia hates that Seth leaves his shoes in the kitchen. Seth hates that Olivia litters the bathroom with her makeup. It’s never-ending, but it’s fucking normal, and I want it.

Sadly, I don’t know if Selena and I will ever have that kind of relationship. Every time I feel like we’re getting somewhere I screw it up by distancing myself and I’m tired of it. How much longer is she going to put up with me? My aggression? My late nights? Lately she’s been keeping me at arm’s length. I don’t know why, but the deep tendrils of dread that burrow through my stomach give me a good idea. She’s going to leave me. I just know it. Why would she stay? Why should she?

Darryl and I exit the gym. I wave him off before turning toward my truck. Inside, I blast the air-conditioning and the music as I leave the parking lot. I don’t have much planned for the rest of today. I’m supposed to meet a guy at the local coffee shop in twenty minutes. He has an illegal cage match set up downtown soon. I told him I’d fight for a good sum of money, but now I’m not so sure.

I make it to the coffee shop in a daze and pull up outside. Still in my sweaty gym gear, I exit my car and saunter into the quiet little spot. I stroll up to the counter, order a caramel latte with two sugars, and give the girl my name with a glance over my shoulder. If Seth heard me order a caramel latte, he’d never let me live it down.

I move to the side of the counter and pull my phone from my pocket. No missed calls from Selena. No text messages. No Facebook comments. In my contacts list, I scroll to her name and hit the green phone icon before lifting it to my ear. It rings and rings and rings.

“Fancy running into you here, Jackson Quinn.”

Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, like teeth on griptape. I can’t believe it used to be a voice that incited goosebumps along my skin. I can’t believe it’s a voice I used to find comfort in.

“Hell—”

I hang up just as Selena answers her phone and turn around. Amelia. I size her up. She’s lost weight, her hips no longer giving her body that hourglass figure. She smiles, exposing a sliver of bright white teeth between her cherry red lips.

I hate that she’s still here in Portland. Granted, I haven’t heard from her in months, which is so unlike her, but unfortunately, I know her better than I know myself. She’s up to something.

I glance around the café. “All right. Who summoned Satan for coffee?”

I get awkward glances, but no one confesses to sacrificing a virgin. Typical.

“Ouch.” Her lips twitch at the corners. “I’ll have you know this is where I always get my coffee.”

“Sure it is.”

She flicks her red hair and sidesteps me. “Can I get an espresso, please? No milk.”

The cashier pretty cashier with the bunched pigtails repeats her order. “And that was no milk, correct?”

“Correct.”

I lean toward the counter, unable to help myself. “She likes her coffee as black as her heart.”

Amelia kisses her teeth before cutting her eyes at me. “Stop flirting with me, Jackie. Your girlfriend won’t like it.”

I squeeze my phone in my hand, ignoring it as it vibrates. “I’m not flirting with you.”

“You sure?” She smooths her palms over her flat tummy, pushing subtle wrinkles out of her tight, black dress. “Because I distinctly remember our foreplay starting off this exact same way, back in the day.”

I clench my jaw. “You’re despicable.”

“I always have been,” she points out. “That’s why you fell in love with me in the first place.”

“Jackson?” The cashier saves me just in time.

I could destroy her with a single sentence, but I won’t give her the satisfaction. I take my latte and glare at Amelia, who regards me with an amused little pout. Thank God this conversation is over.

“Amelia. A fucking nightmare, as always.”

I turn my back and pick a table in the corner so I don’t have to look at her. I sip my coffee and text Selena from my phone.

Sorry for hanging up. Are you busy later?

She replies immediately.

I am busy tonight. Will text you tomorrow.

I frown. I guess I shouldn’t be too down about her being busy tonight. Selena has been a little “off” these past few weeks. She’s moody and quiet. She doesn’t leave the house unless Olivia forces her out, and it’s almost like she gets physically ill in my presence. I keep reflecting. I keep trying to figure out what I’ve done wrong. I’ll be the first to admit there’s a pretty extensive list, but it’s nothing drastic. Or at least I’m pretty sure it’s nothing drastic.

“Oh, I know that frown.” Nails on chalkboard. “Who hurt your feelings?”

I flick my stare from my phone to her face. Her dark eyes sparkle with delight as she lowers herself into the chair in front of me, making herself comfortable.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my teeth clenching as she flicks her red hair over her shoulder and lowers her handbag to the floor.

“I’m here to talk business.”

“I have no business to discuss with you.”

“Oh, I think you do.” She rests on her elbows and taps her fingers against the screen of her phone.

When she’s done, she lowers it to the table and quirks an eyebrow at me. Less than a second later, my phone vibrates and I glance down at it.

From AA: We made plans to discuss business. So…let’s discuss.

I can’t believe it. I stare at the text for minutes, trying to understand how the hell this happened. The man who gave me this number was Cedric Barnes, a reputable casino owner in Las Vegas who dabbles in underground fighting from time to time. He told me this number belonged to someone who knew exactly how to make me the kind of money I’m after.

“You’re…”

“Hosting the next big fight night.”

I swipe my hand over my forehead. I’m so fucking confused. “How did you—”

“I’ve been a very busy woman since we ended, Jackson.” Her eyes flare. “You’d be surprised what I know now.”

I hear the tone in her voice, the implying kick at the end of her sentence. If she’s the person who can get me the kind of money I’m after, I’d rather be poor.

“I want nothing to do with you,” I say, grabbing my latte.

I push out of my chair and stand up.

“I’ll triple what I originally offered you.” She glances at her black nails, seemingly bored.

“No.”

“Two extra zeros.”

I step around the table and storm forward. I don’t want to be here with her. I can’t. Looking at her face sends me spiraling back to the nights I spent with her. How good she made me feel…and how absolutely fucking terrible she made me feel.

Amelia snatches my wrist in her tiny hand and I stop, clenching my cardboard cup in my fist.

“Four extra zeros.”

I snap my head to look at her face. Her eyes are wide, almost pleading. I’ve never seen such a sincere expression on her face before. So much money…there’s no way she has that kind of money. I tug my arm out of her grip.

“You’re full of shit.”

“And if I’m not?” She taps her fingers against the wooden surface, her nails clicking annoyingly. “If I can guarantee you’ll never have to fight or work again?”

I survey her face. I can never tell if she’s lying or telling the truth. With Selena it’s easy. When she’s lying, she purses her lips and averts her gaze. When she’s telling the truth, her eyes become glossy and her perfect lips part as she lets out a subtle exhale.

I bend down, lowering my face as close to Amelia’s as I can without throwing up. Her irises dance with excitement and she straightens her spine as she presses her thighs together.

“I’d rather break my back working every single day for the rest of my life than take a handout from you.”

“Ooh.” She shivers, grinning. “So stubborn. You know that gets me hot.”

She touches my cheek and I snap away from her with a curse. I have to get out of here before I burn the place down with her still inside. I storm from the coffee shop, dumping my latte in a bin outside as I make it to my truck. Inside, my phone vibrates and I check it.

From AA: When you’re done throwing your tantrum…the offer still stands. Millions, Jackson. Don’t be an idiot.

I delete her texts. Why won’t this woman stay out of my life?

Chapter Three

Selena

Jackson tried getting a hold of me all night last night and I ignored him. He even showed up at my doorstep and sat there for a few hours. I watched him from the window as he sat on the step and rested his head against his knees. I wanted to let him in. I wanted to bring him to my bed and hold him while he vented about his day, but I loathe having him around now that I’m withholding a secret as big as this.

I’m terrified of telling him. I’m terrified of what he’ll do…

…because I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with him.

I rest against the porcelain of my low set bath and stare at my little silver foil packet of pills. I haven’t taken one in months. Once I stopped taking them, I convinced Jackson to stop wearing protection and to put faith in me. I promised him I was taking the pill. I said he could trust me and then I betrayed his trust by being selfish. She got into my head. Amelia Petrovic. I ran into her while I was shopping and the things she said…it made me feel like she and Jackson had this bond that we didn’t. Their history is epic and long and I can’t help but feel like I’m this temporary fixture in his life until he realizes he belongs with her because, let’s be honest, they’re just as messed up as each other. They have unfinished business and they—well, I guess they belong together.

Out of fear, I’ve done something stupid. I’m going to bring an innocent child into this clusterfuck of a relationship and, by the end of it, I might be a single mother. I can’t handle that kind of pressure, which is ridiculous because I have nobody to blame but myself and—oh, God. I’m doing it again. Rambling. I toss the pill packet into the bin and hug the toilet.

I feel like hell. I haven’t had coffee in weeks. I pee a lot, have turned off meat, and I’m asleep more than I’m awake. It’s bullshit. Where’s the glow? Where’s the good stuff that Olivia says comes with this pregnancy thing?

Olivia…now there’s a girl in a solid relationship who doesn’t have to fear falling pregnant.

“Selena? Are you home?”

Speak of the devil. “I’m up here.”

I wish I never gave her a key to my place. I push away from the toilet and force myself to my feet. It’s ten in the morning and I’m still in my pug pajamas. Stepping toward the sink, I splash water onto my face and force my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head, desperate to make myself look presentable. I hear Olivia tell Chloe to hold onto the stair railing and I use the extra minutes to brush an ivory shade from my makeup palette under my eyes. I look less like a Walking Dead extra then.

I exit the bathroom just as Chloe bursts through my door shouting “Weena.” I snort. Both Seth and Jackson get a kick out of that one. Her chubby little legs carry her over to me and I drop to my knees for a cuddle. She wraps her arms around my neck before pulling away to look at my shirt.

“Puppy,” she says, pointing with her chubby little index finger.

Olivia, wearing a lovely pink summer dress, sits on the edge of my bed and crosses her slender legs at the ankles.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling widely. “Puppy.”

Chloe steps back and tugs on her pink onesie. “Cat.”

I glance at the fluffy kitten wrapped in streamers on the front and chuckle. “Yes. Cat.”

Chloe rushes off to the left, distracted by my shoe cupboard on the other side of the room. I watch her as she plucks shoe after shoe off the shelves and tosses them to the floor. She’s so cute. Will I have a girl?

“You look like shit,” Olivia points out, and I turn my attention to her.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Weena!” Chloe rushes over with my favorite pink pump in her hand. “Pink. Pink Hews.”

“Pink shoes,” I agree, and she turns around. I sit on my butt and cross my legs as she shuffles backward and drops into my lap.

I touch her lovely, dark brown hair. “She’s getting so big.”

“She is…Seth wants to try for another.”

Excitement dances in Olivia’s eyes. She wants another baby. She wants as many as Seth is willing to give her. In a few short years, Seth will have to trade in that sexy new sports car of his for a minivan.

I smile, but something in my throat swells. “She’d make a wonderful big sister.”

Tears well in my eyes, blurring my vision. Oh, no. Now is not the time for a spontaneous cry. I blink and toy with Chloe’s soft curls, desperate not to let my tears fall.

But they do. I swipe at my cheek as one rolls down my face.

Frowning, Olivia leans forward. “Are you crying?”

“No. I’m not.” I sniffle and Chloe whips around to face me.

Her dark eyes scan my face before she leaps out of my lap. She points at me, her eyes wide, and her lower lip pouty. “Oh, no. Cwying. Mommy, yook. Cwying.”

I swipe at my face again and Chloe wraps her arms around my head with a hum.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I say, and she pulls back.

I thank her again and she plants a tiny, sloppy kiss on my lips before returning to the other side of the room to play with my shoes. I feel Olivia’s gaze on my face as I wipe my mouth and watch Chloe destroy my whole shoe setup.

“Selena?”

I swallow hard as my stomach plummets.

“Are you keeping something from me?”

There’s the question I was hoping to avoid. I drag my stare to Olivia, who’s as still as a statue. Do I say no? Do I say yes? Does she already know the answer?

I shuffle forward. “You absolutely cannot tell Jackson.”

“Oh, my God!” She bounces excitedly on my bed, resting her elbows on her knees. “When did you find out? How far along are you?”

“Not long ago.” I scratch my head. “I’ve only taken a home pregnancy test.”

She nods, pushing her long hair out of her face. “Well, you’re going to need a blood test and a dating scan done to make sure everything is okay.”

“I can’t. I’m not ready for it to be real.”

“You throwing up and sleeping all day?”

I grimace. “Yeah, and I feel heavy.”

“Then I’d say it’s already real.”

I lower my head. Damn.

“When are you going to tell him?”

Never? “I don’t know. He’s not like Seth. He won’t take it well.”

Olivia snorts with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, Seth took my pregnancy news really badly.”

I tilt my head with a scowl. “Bullshit.”

“He did. I don’t want to repeat the stuff he said because it was such a long time ago and he was in a really stressful place, but he made me feel terrible about it.”

I gulp. If Seth took Olivia’s pregnancy news badly, how the hell is Jackson going to take it? Will he flip out? Will he leave? Will he want me to get rid of it? What if he hates it?

“Of course, he apologized profusely when he came to his senses, but these things, these surprises, they’re terrifying in the beginning, but shortly after, you can’t imagine your life being any different.” She smiles. “I can’t see Jackson taking it any worse than Seth did. He adores Chloe and he loves you. If he blows up, then that’s his problem. You’re pregnant with his child and he’ll need to step up.”

It all seems so unfair though, doesn’t it? I’m about to back him into this corner and force him into this lifelong cage of parenthood. Yes, we chose to have sex, but I chose to do it unprotected. Out of fear and insecurity. I feel like I should be locked up. Surely, I’ve committed a crime of some kind?

“I tricked him,” I mutter, lowering my stare to the soft, white carpet.

“I don’t understand.”

Embarrassment and regret eat at me, churning my stomach and punching my lungs. “I told him I was taking the pill, but I stopped, and then I convinced him to stop using protection.”

I don’t have to look at her to know she’s disappointed. I can feel it sliding over my skin as she stares at me…like I’m every bit the idiot I already feel I am.

“Selena…why?”

“Because Amelia said—”

“Please do not tell me you were motivated by something that snake said?”

I whip my head up. “She made me feel irrelevant, O.”

I pull my knees into my chest and bury my face in them. I’m crying again. The tears well in my eyes and wet my cheeks and I hate it. I’ve never been so caught up in the opposite sex. I’ve never been in love like this, not like I am with Jackson. I get ensnared in his eyes, the way they swirl with pain and lust, and I can’t escape. Once I’m trapped, he could tell me to walk out into traffic and I’d do it. Amelia is a large fragment of Jackson’s past. She’s the reason he is the way he is. She groomed him into this…this…beast. How am I ever supposed to compete with that? I thought…I thought that if I gave him a child, then anything before our baby would be irrelevant. That’s what babies do, right? Make everything before them irrelevant? He’d stop with his illegal fighting and his selfish rampages. He’d have to become a decent man, for the sake of our child…

…right?

Jackson

I glance around the small burger joint. It’s a nice place, situated a block over from Seth’s gym. He loves it here. He loves the turquoise paint on the walls and the surfboards glued haphazardly to the ceiling. I know for a fact Seth never would have stepped foot in here not long ago, but since he’s stopped competing professionally, he eats whatever the hell he wants. I, on the other hand, am forced to order a pita wrap with grilled, skinless chicken, a heap of spinach, quinoa, and no sauce. The smells of the fries and the onions torture me. I haven’t had the delicious oily snacks in forever. I haven’t told him professional fighting might not be on the cards for me anymore, and so I’m forced to go along with the program until I grow the balls to bring it up.

My phone vibrates face down on the table and I don’t have to look to know exactly who it is. She’s been calling me nonstop, trying to convince me that fighting for her is a good idea. It’d be a lie if I said I wasn’t contemplating it…like a desperate fucking idiot.

“Are you going to get that?”

I don’t look at Seth, who arches a suspicious brow at me. “Nope.”

He watches me until the phone ceases to vibrate. When it does, he leans forward on his elbows and his black tee sags at the front. “Are you in trouble?”

Dread twists my stomach. I guess it depends what he’s referring to. No, I’m not running from a debt collector. Yes, I am I contemplating selling my soul to Satan herself. I could tell him all about it, but he’d never understand. Seth has always been the Golden Child. He doesn’t know what it’s like to struggle the way I have struggled, and if I tell him Amelia wants to give me a lot of freaking money if I fight in her corner against the notorious Connor “Terror” Cage, he’d lose it. Seth has always had my best interests at heart. He’s always looked out for me, but I think this is something I should decide on my own. Without judgment from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “I’ve got it sorted.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me.”

I cut my eyes at him. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Seth sits back in his seat as the cute waitress shuffles over to our table.  

“Double cheeseburger and fries?”

He points at the empty space in front of him and she sets the plate down. He doesn’t look at her or offer his thanks. He just glares at me…in that Seth way I hate so much. Olivia knows what I’m talking about.

“The pita wrap must be yours.”

I grunt at her and she lowers my plate to the table.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

I turn my attention to her. Of course, she’s not asking me. She’s asking Seth—and you know what? She’s changed her hair. When she took our order, her black hair was up in a tight, long ponytail, and her eyelashes weren’t nearly as long, as dark, or as thick as they are now. The waitress tucks her untied hair behind her ear and I glance at her name badge. Ha. Her name is Olivia. Fancy that.

“Anything else?” Seth asks. “My treat.”

I bristle. Is he offering because he thinks I deserve it or because I can’t afford it? I still have plenty of money in my bank…I’m just swiftly running out.

“Get me some of those chicken wings. You know the ones that come with your signature spicy marinade? I’ll also get a large bowl of fries, six chicken nuggets, a BLT, and a jug of cola.” I smirk at her. “And a banana split to wash it all down, thanks.”

“Um.” She blinks at me before glancing at Seth. “Is that…okay?”

He looks at her and the air is visibly sucked from her lungs. Rolling my eyes, I blow air from my cheeks with a shake of my head, draping my arm over the back of the empty chair beside me. All the ladies love Seth. All of them. He looks like your classic, all American man. Me, however, most of these women fear me. With my tattoos and the constant scowl I can’t seem to remove from my face, they think I’m some kind of criminal.

Perhaps it’s better that way.

Exhaling, Seth leans forward and grabs a napkin. “It’s fine.”

The waitress, Olivia, disappears and I grin at Seth, waiting for him to give me a talk about saturated fats, my calorie intake, and sugar…

…but he doesn’t.

I tilt my head. “You’re not going to say anything?”

He shrugs. “I’ll just work you harder for the rest of the week.”

He lifts his burger and takes a bite. My stomach groans out of jealousy. I should have ordered one of those too. On the table, my phone vibrates quickly, two short bursts that alert me of a text message. Sighing, I scoop up my phone and read the text from Amelia.

Amelia DON’T ANSWER: Ignoring my calls? Real mature. I need someone to fight this fight. It’s a hell of a lot of money to turn your back on. Don’t be stupid. I know you need it.

“Selena giving you grief again?” Seth asks, setting his greasy burger down.

Jackson: Give me some time to think.

“I wish.” I toss my phone onto the table and swipe at my face. “We haven’t spoken in days.”

“What’d you do?” He sips at his water.

“What makes you think I did anything? I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

Seth takes another bite and swallows. “It’s Selena. What do you expect? She’s erratic, irrational, moody, aggressive, annoying—”

“Take it easy,” I growl at him, folding my arms across my chest. “She’s not perfect—”

“—not even close.”

“But she’s mine.”

He lowers his burger. “Does she know that?”

“Yes.”

“Then how can she go days without speaking to you?” He reaches for his fries.

“We’re not like you and Olivia. We’re not needy and—”

“It’s not about being needy.” He pins me with his dark stare. “Darryl and I went to Oakland for business eight months ago,”

“I know. You didn’t invite me, remember?”

Chewing his fries, he swallows. “You’re not allowed in Oakland, remember?”

Really? Hm. I can’t recall what I might’ve done to get banned from there. I flick my shoulders. “Still. The invite would’ve been nice.”

“Sixteen hours into the weekend,” he continues, ignoring me. “Olivia calls me, crying.”

“What happened?” I frown. “Was it Chloe?”

He shakes his head. “She missed me. She just wanted to hear my voice.”

I gag.

Seth laughs, exposing his straight, white teeth. “Gag all you want. That woman loves me more than anything else in the world and, if she hadn’t called me, I would have called her just to hear her voice.”

I peer out the murky window and into the empty street. How did Seth and Olivia get to the point they’re at now? Don’t get me wrong, Selena and I have made incredible progress since we first started, since Vegas and all that other bullshit, but we are at an impasse. We are perfect one moment and a mess the next. It’s her. It’s me. It’s someone else. We just can’t seem to make it work.

“And it just happened?” I ask Seth, avoiding his stare.

“What?”

“This…this perfect relationship you and Olivia have. Your happiness. Did it just happen or—”

“—fuck no, it didn’t just happen, and I definitely wouldn’t describe us as perfect.” I drag my stare to him and he looks away, choosing to watch a father bus the tray for his two small children. “Olivia and I have a million and one problems—two million and one—if I’m being honest, but we make it work. A good relationship isn’t good without work, and we’ve been putting in the time since we started. It’s not good all the time, no relationship is, but I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.”

I’d tell him he sounded ridiculous if I didn’t want what he had so bad.

Olivia, the waitress, returns with half of my order. Without a word, she places the food on the table, making room as she goes. Then, she disappears again.

“So, what you’re saying is—”

“—what the fuck are you doing here, Jackson?” He leans back against the red booth. “Why are you here, having lunch with me, when you should be with Selena?”

I push the pita wrap aside and reach for the chili sauce. I give it a shake and Seth frowns with impatience as he waits for my answer. I pour the sunset colored sauce over my fries before pinching a few between my fingers.

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

I eat them.

“So?”

Chewing, I shrug. “So, she doesn’t want to see me.”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“It’s different now.” I look away and swallow. “She’s different now, and I don’t want to lose her…so I’m giving her space.” I clear my throat. “That’s why I’m here having lunch with you. If I wasn’t, I’d be ripping the doors off her house.”

Seth sits forward, apparently satisfied with my answer, and reaches for his burger again. I stuff more fries into my mouth, relishing in the way my taste buds come alive and dance with the chili sauce. Eventually, the tips of my fingers brush the warm ceramic of the blue bowl as I grab the last of the fries. I stuff the warm slivers of salty potato into my mouth when my phone rings. My heart skips a beat, thinking it could be Selena, but it ceases to thrum all together and immediately plummets into my crisp, white sneakers when “Amelia DON’T ANSWER” flashes across my screen.

I feel Seth’s stare on me long before I lift my gaze to his. I can see how this might look. Last time, he threw my phone against the wall and shattered it into a million pieces. Wiping my hands, I quickly grab my phone and stuff it into the pocket of my jeans.

Olivia returns with the rest of my order and places it gently on the table. Sighing, she plants her hands on her hips and beams at Seth. “Was that everything?”

Her smile falters when she sees the look on his face. He doesn’t look back at her. Instead, he keeps his angry, volcanic eyes on me.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I say, and he lowers his chin, glowering down his nose at me.

“You’ve got five seconds to explain before I throw myself across this table and knock some sense into you.”

The waitress backs away, rushing quickly to another table. Exhaling, I sit forward, reaching for my chicken wings. They’re slippery between my fingers as I pinch one and bring it to my mouth.

“Amelia is hosting the next big underground fight.”

His eyes widen as I suck at the marinade. “Bullshit.”

“She’s offering me a hell of a lot of money to fight Connor Cage.”

I eat the chicken wing as a million and one thoughts flicker through Seth’s head. He doesn’t blanch at the mention of Cage’s name. Why would he? He hasn’t watched a single professional fight since his brief time in the pros. He wouldn’t know any of the new up and comers. Connor Cage was booted from the MMAC for destroying the new chairman’s face on live TV. In Connor’s defense, Greg did call him a pussy, and then bragged about banging his girlfriend on the hood of his car. I would have beaten him to a bloody pulp too.

“You can’t keep fighting like this, Jackson. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

I swallow as Seth pushes his burger away. “I need the money, Seth.”

“If you need money, I can give you some.”

“I don’t want your money. I want my money. I am sick and tired of building my life and my success off your shoulders. You’ve paid me to be your punching bag, your ring man, and your damn gym boy. I want to do something for myself. I want to make money on my own.”

He cuts his eyes at me. “You won’t take my money, but you’ll take hers?”

“It’s not hers. The fight is connected to Cedric Barnes.”

Seth straightens his posture and smooths out the wrinkle in his eyebrows. “Cedric Barnes? As in The Erl Casino, Cedric Barnes?”

“The one and only.”

“Why would he risk—”

“I don’t know the fucking details yet, Seth. I don’t even know if I’m going to do it.”

Though I’ll admit, at this point, it’s almost too good to pass up. I’m a good fighter, and I think I’m better than Connor Cage. If I beat him I can take Selena and go somewhere—anywhere. I can’t remember the last time I did something for myself. God knows Selena and I need it. Maybe then I can show her just how romantic I can be.

“You can’t trust Amelia. She always has an agenda”

I roll my eyes. “I know that better than anybody.”

“And how do you think Selena will take it?”

Simple. “I’m not going to tell her.”

Seth exhales dramatically, running his hands over his face. “Jackson, you can’t keep doing this.”

“One last time and then I’ll stop. For good.”

“For good?”

Here it is. The moment of truth. I don’t know how he’s going to take it. Months, and months, and months of his time, hard work, and money gone. I can’t go through with it. My heart’s just not in it anymore. I’m not like him. I thought I was. I thought I could do it, but the pressure is too much.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” I confess. “Professional or not. I’m tired.”

Seth folds his large arms over his wide chest. “I thought going pro was something you wanted?”

“It was in the beginning. I wanted it more than anything, but…I don’t anymore. To be honest…if I see the inside of another fucking gym, I will hang myself from the ceiling.”

Nodding, Seth doesn’t say another word. Not for the rest of the meal. He finishes long before I do and sits in thought, watching me. Trying to figure me out.

When I polish off the last cup of cola from the jug, he leans forward on his elbows. “I think you should do it.”

I arch a brow. Is he messing with me? He’s never, ever approved of me fighting illegally.

“This could be the last time I get close to a ring. I want to be there with you…for you.”

The air between us changes, surrounding me with strange currents of respect and sadness. Fighting is what kept Seth and I going when the odds seemed to stack against us. Fighting made us brothers. What would we become without it keeping us together? I mean, our lives are already heading in two very different directions.

Swallowing, I nod. “Okay.”

Olivia, the waitress, awkwardly returns with the bill and Seth cuts his eyes at me as he pays it. I grin. I didn’t even touch my pita wrap. When he’s done, we leave the small shop and go our separate ways. Apparently, Seth’s gotta pick Chloe up from daycare because Olivia is out, four towns over, checking out a location to open another gym.

Instead of getting in my car, I walk. I walk one hour in one direction until I reach the edge of town. My mind runs rampant with all the things I can do with the money I win. Greece. I’ve always wanted to go there. Would Selena come with me? Or will she leave me altogether when she finds out where I got the money? I don’t know what the fuck she’s going to do.

Exhaling, I pull out my phone and call Amelia. Butterflies churn in my stomach. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m allowing myself to become involved with her again.

She can destroy me.

She can.

The ringing ceases. My stomach plummets.

“You better have good news for me,” she purrs down the phone, chilling my blood.

I glance up at the cloudy sky. In the distance, faint thunder rumbles. Coincidence? I think not.

“I’m in,” I tell her. “I’ll do the fight.”

I swear I can hear her wry smile as it spreads across her face. “You’ll do it for me?”

“Not for you,” I clarify. “Never for you.”

“Ooh.” She chuckles and it’s the same kind of mocking chuckle that I’m used to from her. “I’ll be in touch, Jackie.”

Amelia hangs up and I lower my phone, clenching it firmly in my fist. Nervousness tightens my chest. It’s the kind of nervousness that only Amelia Petrovic stirs in me. By caving, I’ve opened Pandora’s Box, and I’m either going to fight through it, or crash and burn and lose everything. Peering at my phone, I scroll to Selena’s name.

I hit call…

…but I hang up before it rings. If things with Amelia go south, do I even have anything to lose? I’m not so sure anymore.

Chapter Four

Selena

The smell of a doctor’s surgery. I’ve always hated it, but today it’s worse than usual. Bleach and hospital grade disinfectant tickles my nostrils and my stomach shudders, threatening to turn. Please, don’t puke. Mix those strong smells in with cardboard, hand sanitizer, and old lady perfume and my stomach is a ticking time bomb.

“So, Selena, how are you feeling?” Doctor Carter finally speaks after eight solid minutes of scrolling on his computer.

I lift my head and he’s looking right at me with his blue eyes, the corners of his full lips quirked into a friendly smile. I exhale, sitting back on the chair beside his desk, grasping my water bottle.

“Terrible.”

He chuckles and the sweet tenor of it calms my nerves. “It should subside soon.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I am.”

Doctor Carter scratches at his head and I notice his golden blond hair is turning silver on the sides. How old is he, anyway? My father’s age, for sure, but unlike my father, Doctor Carter is strikingly handsome in that safe, older man kind of way.

I shiver as the air conditioning blows cool air down my back and I pull my white jacket higher on my shoulders.

“How far along do you think you are?”

I shrug. “Eight weeks, give or take.”

“And when was your last period?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

Doctor Carter turns back to his desk, smoothing his large hand down the front of his black tie. “Your blood test results tell me you’re a little further along than eight weeks.” He stares at his computer. “I would like to do another series of blood tests just to check that things are as they should be.”

My stomach turns. “What makes you say that?”

“Your HCG level and your blood pressure are a little high to be eight weeks.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“It could mean nothing at all. I’m just investigating to be on the safe side.” He reaches out for a stack of paper and takes a single sheet. Exhaling, he slips the sheet into the printer. “Normally, I do like to have an ultrasound done a little earlier than eight weeks to confirm, but since you waited and we have the bloods, I can refer you for a dating scan now.”

“I’m not sure I want an ultrasound.” I swallow. “I’m not sure I want to see…it.”

Pausing, Doctor Carter’s thick dark blond eyebrows furrow. “Oh. Well, regardless, if you plan on terminating your pregnancy, an ultrasound will still need to be done.”

I flinch. Is that how I came across? He watches me, waiting for an answer—or an explanation. He’d never admit it, but I can see the disgust and the resentment in his eyes. It’s in the way he now holds his posture—tall and square.

“By terminating you mean…aborting it?”

“Yes.”

I gasp, pushing a loose strand of hair out of my face. “No. No. I don’t want to do that, it’s just…I haven’t told the father yet.”

He relaxes minutely and presses a button on his printer. Whirring, it pulls in the paper. “If you’re scared of your partner, there are plenty of women’s refuges around the place if―”

I plant my elbow on his wide table and rest my head in my hand. “No. Again, it’s not like that—”

“As I said,” he cuts in, “regardless of your decision, an ultrasound is the next step.” The printer spits out the paper. I make out the word ‘radiology’ before he snatches it up and signs the bottom. “In the meantime, start taking pregnancy vitamins. They may help with the morning sickness, and make sure you drink lots of clean water.”

He hands me the referral and I take it, lifting my head.

“Is there anything else?” he asks, his blue stare flicking to my jean-clad leg.

I’m bouncing it. Nervously. Can I be any more obvious? I don’t think I need to tell him. Olivia said she had it, and that it’s normal…she also said for me to have it checked out just in case. I guess I owe it to my unborn child to make sure he, or she, is okay.

“There is one thing…” I clear my throat, hating the heat that swells in my cheeks. “There’s a brownish kind of bloody discharge…”

He smooths out his eyebrows. “Blood?”

I grimace. “Not blood. Not really. It’s different. I don’t know.”

“What does it look like? How’s its consistency?”

“It’s dark.” I shrug. “Sometimes a lighter color. I’m not going through panty liners like crazy or anything, but my friend, Olivia, she told me to bring it up with you.”

Doctor Carter ponders, staring thoughtfully at his computer screen once more. Unease eats at me and I grip my bottle tighter.

“Do you think it’s something I should worry about?”

Finally, he looks at me. “Here’s what we’ll do. You take it easy and get that ultrasound done as soon as possible—today, preferably. Once that’s done, we can go from there.

I nod, taking solace in his relaxed tone. If something was wrong, he’d tell me, or I’d be able to see it on his face, at the very least. I hate that I have nothing with which to compare how I’m feeling. I’ve never been pregnant. I don’t know if feeling this heavy is normal. I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel this uneasy.

I leave the doctor’s office even more worried than I was when I arrived. There’s no avoiding it now. The ball is rolling and I have to roll with it. I’m not ready to tell Jackson, but I can’t go to this ultrasound without him. What if it was something Amelia did? And what if he compares me to her? Compares this pregnancy to the one he was denied? I shiver. The thought is almost as terrifying as pushing a baby out of my vagina.

I step into the parking lot and hit the button on my keys to unlock my car. I guess I don’t have a choice. I can’t keep dragging this out. I have to swallow my worry and tell Jackson.

I just have to.

***

Apparently, there are more brands of pregnancy vitamins than there are brands of condoms, which is interesting. All of them have cute little pregnant ladies with large baby bumps on the box and are an array of pretty colors. I’ve read the label of a few and they all seem to be filled with the same stuff, but which one is best?

Bending down, I grab the dark green box on the lowest shelf. According to the tag, they’re the number one recommended women’s supplements brand. Plus, the capsules don’t look like they’d choke a horse. They’re a low constipation form of iron too so…yay.

“Pregnancy vitamins….”

I squeak and turn on my heel to face the reason why the voice seems to make my blood simmer. The color drains from my face at the sight of her. Amelia. The woman I’ve been so selfishly trying to beat in a race that doesn’t even exist.

Her eyes are as dark as volcanic glass and the corners of her lips are quirked into a smirk…or maybe it’s a sneer. I can’t tell.

“They’re a gimmick, you know.” She tips her head on an angle as I tuck the small box under my arm and clear my throat.

“I wouldn’t know,” I tell her. “They’re not for me.”

Amelia simpers, shifting her weight onto one leg. “You’re a shitty liar. Maybe that’s why Jackson likes you. You’re easy to read, like an open book. Unlike me.”

Rolling my eyes, I try to step around her, but she blocks my path. My blood turns from a simmer to a boil.

“Get out of my way,” I snap.

What’s the protocol here? The old me would have shoved her, knocking her off balance in her red bottom shoes. The new me, however, has to consider someone other than herself for a change. Someone who cannot defend themselves yet.

“What’s the matter, Selena?” she teases, trying to goad a reaction out of me. “Jackson and I may have had a rocky past, but that doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends.”

“You don’t want to be my friend,” I say, cutting my eyes at her. “And I sure as hell don’t want to be yours.”

Amelia closes her lips in a satisfied little pout, hiding her perfect, white teeth, and steps aside. “Suit yourself.”

I march forward, glancing down at my white sneakers. As I near the end of the aisle, I want to glance over my shoulder, but I’m too afraid she’ll see me. She’ll think I’m weak then and I can’t have that.

I half expect her to follow me around the store, but she doesn’t. I don’t see her as I check out and enter the parking lot, and I don’t see her as I climb into my car and leave. I grip the steering wheel tightly in my hands, ignoring the way saliva floods my mouth and the urge to puke rises.

“I just want to make it home,” I utter, shivering as chills overcome me.

I swallow over and over, trying to quell the nausea, but it only makes it worse. Groaning, I pull over and jump out of the car, frightening a little girl on her bicycle. I dive right past her, hunch over a bush, and throw up the nothing I’ve eaten the last few days.

When I’m sure I’m done, I spit and straighten my spine with a sigh.

“Are you all right, lady?” I turn to face the little, redheaded girl who squints at me from her pink and white bike.

Her skin is pale, her eyes a deep brown, and just under her top lip is a gap in her smile, from losing a tooth.

“Don’t have children,” I tell her, and she frowns at me with her bushy eyebrows.

“Um. Okay.”

I get back into my white sedan and continue toward home. As soon as I get there, I have to wash out my mouth, try to eat something, and then work on a plan to break the news to Jackson…

…as gently as I can.

Chapter Five

Jackson

The number of my calls that she misses, or rejects, grows every damn day. It’s safe to say that whatever was between us is finished. I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was…there’s no coming back from it.

I should let it go….

But I can’t.

I push my booted foot harder against the gas. Street signs zoom past me. I stop for no red light. No pedestrians. No speed cameras. I didn’t want it to get to this point. I didn’t want myself to get to this point of…desperation…and yet, here I am. Driving through the streets like a mad man just to get to her. What am I going to do when I get there? I don’t know. Force her to love me? Get down on my knees and beg at her feet?

I have to do this. I don’t have any more distractions left to depend on. I need answers. I need something from her!

My phone rings in its cradle, Amelia’s name on my screen. I sneer at it. This isn’t about her. This isn’t the time to talk to her.

I drive and she calls. Over and over. It goes on and on until I pull into the parking lot outside Selena’s apartment. Her car isn’t here. She’s not home. I deflate. She’s not at work, either. Where could she be?

For the umpteenth time, my phone rings and I snatch it from the cradle. “What?”

“Easy,” she purrs.

“Now is not a good time.”

“Of course it’s not. How could it be? You’ll never guess who I’m looking at right now.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. “Where is she?”

“Having lunch, apparently. And you’ll never guess who with.”

Dread swirls in my stomach. At one point, Selena and I had a semi-open relationship. Does she assume that is still okay? Even though I’ve declared my love to her and only her? I slide my teeth together.

“Who’s she with?”

“Telling you will spoil the fun. Meet me on the corner of Wilson and Brown.”

“I don’t have time for your stupid games.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

I close my eyes. I shouldn’t listen to her. I shouldn’t talk to her! But what choice do I have? Selena has left me with nothing! If Amelia can take me to Selena, if she can show me exactly what Selena has been doing then…it’s worth it. Surely?

Fuck. I shouldn’t.

I chew the inside of my lip. I’m making a huge mistake putting my trust in Amelia.

“I’ll be there in ten.” I hang up the phone.

What will I see? I almost don’t want to know.

***

I pull into a side of the road parking space and grab my phone. I barely unlock the screen before my passenger door opens and in climbs the red-haired demon I’ve been trying to avoid this whole time. Setting her black handbag on her lap, she smiles sweetly at me. The smell of her expensive perfume envelopes me and I clench my phone, lowering it to my lap.

“Where’s Selena?”

Without a word, Amelia reaches down beside her and slowly moves her seat back. I frown, confused, until I see her. My gut tightens at the sight of her, at the sight of her long, golden hair braided down the side of her head in that messy, disheveled way I like so much. Selena’s hair is curly, and the short, frizzy parts never stay in one of her hairdos for long.

I watch silently as she unzips her white hoody and shrugs out of it. Her once tan, golden skin is now pale, but her breasts…ashamedly, my stare falls to them. The pink tank she’s wearing exposes the engorged curves of them. They almost look fake.

“So she’s having lunch at a café,” I grumble, cutting my eyes at Amelia. “I thought you said she was with someone.”

She simpers. “Wait and see.”

I watch Selena for a little longer as she tears bread apart between her fingertips and nibbles at it. Then I see Seth, returning from the bathroom. I frown as he sits down next to her and they start talking. I wait for Olivia to arrive.

She doesn’t.

I swallow. It’s nothing, right? They’re just having lunch. Although, I did invite Seth and Darryl around for hotdogs and beer while we watch the football game and he said he had Chloe all day today. I don’t see Chloe anywhere…why would he lie? Why would he blow me off to see Selena?

I clear my throat. “She’s having lunch with Seth. Big deal.”

“Wow. You really have lost your balls.” Amelia twists toward me. “The Jackson I used to know would tear through that café like fucking Wolverine for his woman.”

The Jackson she knew attacked innocent people for no reason. The Jackson she knew was a piece of shit. “I’m not that guy anymore.”

“How disappointing.”

The silence that fills the car is heavy, threatening to suffocate me. I trust Seth. I do…

But he lied to me…

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I saw Selena at the mall this morning, buying pregnancy vitamins.” Amelia takes her cellphone from her bag and scrolls down the screen before turning it toward me.

Sure enough, there’s Selena, standing in front of the vitamin section.

“They could be for Olivia. Seth has been hounding her for another baby.”

Amelia scoffs. “I imagine Olivia can buy her own vitamins. Don’t be so stupid! Put two and two together, Jackson. Selena is pregnant, she’s been avoiding you, and now she’s sneaking around having secret lunches with your best friend—who she had a fling in Vegas with, might I add.”

One kiss hardly counts as a fling. I was standing right fucking there. Still…she has a point.

My lip twitches. “Are you insinuating that she’s pregnant with Seth’s baby?”

“I don’t want to cause any trouble.” She tips her head on an angle. “But something has to be going on.”

“Selena wouldn’t do that to me—or Olivia,” I point out, trying my hardest to stop the rage from brewing in my chest. “I’ll ask her.”

“And you think she’d tell you the truth?”

I slam my palms against my wheel and Amelia jumps. “She’s not like you!”

A heavy silence falls once again and my skull creaks as my brain throbs against it. I’m fucking imploding.

“The Jackson I knew would never sit around waiting for answers. In all of his glory, he would throw his fists until he got the answers he wanted.” Amelia’s eyes soften and, I’ll admit, it tugs at my heart strings. It reminds me so much of the vulnerable side of Amelia. The quiet side. The side I always preferred. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. These people don’t care about you. Not like I did. Not like I still do.”

She puts her small hand on my thigh and I glance down at it. Her hand feels heavy, as if it weighs a hundred pounds and, if I focus on it, I can feel her natural bitterness soak through my denim and seep into my pores.

“I still think about our baby.”

I flinch, cringing at the way my muscles seem to painfully turn to stone under my skin. Our baby? She never gave it a chance to be our baby.

“I still wonder if it would have been a boy or a girl…if it would have said mommy or daddy first.”

Swallowing my anger, swallowing any kind of emotion she so effortlessly conjured in me, I push her hand off my leg.

“Thanks for the tip on Selena,” I say, dead calm as I glance out my window. “Now get the fuck out of my car.”

Laughing under her breath, Amelia grabs her handbag tightly in one hand and opens the door. Without a glance over her shoulder, she slips from the car.

“You’ve got my number,” she says, and I hear the smile in her tone. “Call me when you need me.”

Slam. I grimace. She said when.

Not if.

When.

It’ll be a cold day in hell before I go running back to that bitch.

I watch Seth and Selena for well over an hour. They can’t stop talking. Seth flickers between angry and compassionate while Selena spends most of the time crying. By the looks of it, she’s carrying a lot of guilt…a lot of grief. He touches her hand or her shoulder on occasion, and I don’t like it. Not one little bit. I spend most of my time trying to convince myself not to jump to conclusions, but she’s avoiding me and now he’s lying to me. There must be a reason for this lunch. Seth and Selena can’t stand each other much. He thinks she’s insane and she thinks he’s conceited, and yet, here they are, consoling each other over lunch. By themselves.

They hug when they leave and it’s a lingering hug, one that sends scalding tendrils of anger spiraling through my gut.

Maybe Amelia is right.

Maybe Seth and Selena are…

Damn.

Chapter Six

Selena

It was Seth’s idea to invite Jackson for dinner. He said that breaking the news in front of close friends that are happy for him will help Jackson better digest the news. That was after Seth scolded me when I admitted to tricking Jackson into having unprotected sex. On one hand, he believes Jackson and I aren’t ready for a kid—and maybe he’s right. However, on the other, Seth thinks Jackson will be delighted with the news. He’s always wanted children—until Amelia took his first from him. Seth told me it’s not that Jackson was upset that Amelia wasn’t ready for a baby and decided to terminate. He was upset because children had always been a topic of conversation for them and he thought it was a sure thing. Amelia’s refusal to talk to him about her decision was his undoing…

…which makes me no better than her.

Lunch was hard. It was even harder since Olivia canceled at the last second. Seth and I aren’t known for getting along most of the time, so the thought of coming clean to him without Olivia’s backing almost sent me into a full-blown panic attack, but he took it better than I expected, and even offered his support. At this point, what more can I ask from him?

“He’ll be here.” Olivia puts her hand over mine, pulling me from my consuming thoughts.

I don’t even know if Jackson is going to come to dinner. He hasn’t responded to anyone’s texts or answered anyone’s calls. We’re sitting around my dining table, waiting. The only person eating the roast is Chloe. Seth, Olivia, and I look at her as she sighs. Chloe pauses with half a potato hanging out of her mouth, realizing all the attention is on her. I laugh first, mostly because she has gravy across her forehead, then Seth and Olivia join in, followed finally by Chloe, who has no idea why we’re laughing at her in the first place.

God, the food smells amazing. I haven’t eaten all day. Even at lunch. I just haven’t had the stomach for it. Now, though, I could devour an entire horse.

“Let’s eat,” I say, smoothing the palms of my hands down the thighs of my long, flowy skirt. “The food will get cold if we wait any longer.”

Olivia turns her sad stare on me—so does Seth—and I reach for the potatoes. Why are they surprised? Jackson has always been difficult. It’s just the way he is.

Knock. Knock.

My heart plummets. I still as tension seeps into the air. It’s thick, tightening my chest. I peer at Seth and I must look distressed because he flashes me his palm.

“It’s all right,” he says with a shrug. “Don’t panic.”

“Are you sure we should do this over dinner?” I whisper, pushing a loose lock of blonde hair out of my face. Suddenly, this doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” He pushes his chair back. “I’ll get the door.”

“No. I’ll get it.” Olivia tightens her long, chocolate ponytail before she slips from her chair and leaves the dining room.

I inhale through my nose and blow it out through my mouth. I desperately wish for it to calm my racing heart, but it doesn’t. Nothing will. I will live with this heavy ball of stress until I tell him what I’ve done.

On second thought, maybe this is a conversation I should have with Jackson in private…

“Relax,” Seth murmurs, grabbing Chloe’s purple sippy cup. He pushes it toward her. “It’ll be all right.”

Not a moment later, Olivia re-enters the dining room, her face soft and regretful. She grabs my attention for a brief second until the man of the hour comes in behind her, looking as tall and as broad as ever. I almost shrink in my seat at the sight of his scowl. He traps me in it and everything else fades away. He’s mad. Why wouldn’t he be? I’ve been avoiding him for ages.

My heart pounds relentlessly against my ribs and only the soft touch of Olivia’s hand on my shoulder as she slips behind me is enough to pull me from his arresting magnetism. I drop my gaze to my empty plate as Jackson pulls out the chair beside Seth and sits down.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Seth states, reaching across the table to scoop roast potatoes onto Olivia’s plate.

“I was busy.”

“Too busy to call us back?”

I swallow hard as Jackson flicks his dangerous stare to me. My chest tightens. I’ve missed him so much I didn’t even realize. I just want him to scoop me up into his giant arms and squeeze me until I pop. “I guess so.”

Silence falls. Cutlery clashing against porcelain and Chloe cooing at her food are the only sounds to be heard. I’m uncomfortable. Everything about this dinner is putting me on edge. This isn’t how I imagined this dinner going. If I feel this bent out of shape, I wonder how Jackson feels? He doesn’t look happy, that’s for sure.

At some point, we all end up with food on our plates. Olivia has done an incredible job on the lamb, and Seth, apparently, is an expert at cooking roast vegetables. I wonder how dinner goes at their house. Do they cook together? Is it warm and loving? Chloe is being raised in such a beautiful home and I want that for my baby too.

I’m going to have to learn how to cook before this baby is old enough to eat real food. I think I’m more afraid of that than I am of changing diapers.

Long, painful minutes pass—they’re worse than the sound of nails on a chalkboard. I think I’m going to be the first to crack under the pressure until Jackson tosses his fork against his plate, cursing under his breath. I flinch at the sound of his metal fork as it hits the porcelain and slides.

“Is there a problem?” I dare ask and he cuts his eyes at me.

“Yeah, there’s a problem. Are you two going to tell Olivia, or should I?”

I frown. “Tell Olivia what?”

“That it never ended with a kiss between you two.” He points a straight, accusing finger between Seth and I. I gasp, my cheeks bursting into flames.

“What?”

Heat creeps up the back of my neck and my womb tightens painfully. Is he insinuating that—

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you two today.”

Oh. I lower my fork. “Jackson, maybe we should—”

“Tell her,” he cuts in, the look on his face contorted, as if I’m the most disgusting thing he has ever seen. “Or I will.”

“You are an idiot,” Olivia mutters under her breath to him, swiping her hands over her face.

Exhaling, she reaches for her glass of wine and swallows a large mouthful.

“I know you’re pregnant, Selena! And I know it’s not mine.”

I flinch, and my chair scrapes against the white tiles as I stand up. “Not yours? Who else could it—” I grimace as realization sets in. “You think…that I would…with Seth…”

Tears well in my eyes. I made a mistake once. I wasn’t myself when we were in Vegas. I was caught up in Seth’s childish mood, desperate to make Jackson jealous. In doing so, I allowed myself to be a pawn in one of Seth’s revenge games against Don Russell. A kiss was shared. A simple kiss that has haunted me since it happened. It meant nothing to me and it meant nothing to Seth. I mean, Jackson was there, for crying out loud! I would never hurt Olivia. Not ever. And for him to insinuate that I would ever be so intimate with Seth—with a married man, no less—is so, so hurtful. Is that how little he thinks of me? I’ve never been good, but I’m not a bad person. Not by any means.

“You can’t deny it, Selena. You were buying pregnancy vitamins and—”

“How do you know that?” I cut in, shifting my weight onto my left leg.

“Amelia said—”

Jackson’s angry eyes widen with regret. Mine with shock. Amelia. Of course, he’s talking to her. Only she could conjure up such a sick rumor.

“You are an idiot!” Seth snaps, shoving his plate. Chloe startles at the sound of the clash and reaches out for Olivia with a choked cry. “Amelia is full of shit. The baby is yours, not mine, asshole.”

I press my hand to my stomach, swallowing hard to prevent bile from rising. I don’t want to be here. Not with him. “I have to go.”

Olivia is already wiping Chloe down. “We’ll go too. You can stay at our place tonight, Sel.”

As I leave the dining room, I hear Seth tell Olivia to put Chloe in the car and that he’ll be out soon.

“Why are you running from me, Selena?” Jackson shouts. “I’m not going to chase you. I’m tired of chasing you!”

Olivia consoles a confused Chloe as we hurry through the sitting room and exit the house. Behind us, there are clashes of cutlery and smashes of plates. I hug myself, desperate to get away from the distressing sounds, as tears well in my eyes. I expected Jackson to be confused, and I expected him to be a little irritated, but I never, ever expected him to think the baby was Seth’s. How could he?

I lean against the side of their car as Olivia clips Chloe into her seat. She’s barely done convincing Chloe to stop crying when Seth storms from my place, his shoulders square, his fists clenched. I push off the car as he approaches and in the streetlight, blood shines along his cheek.

I wince. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Seth snaps, swiping at his face. “It’s not your fault he’s a fucking lunatic. Get in the car.”

I do as I’m told and Chloe stops complaining about being put into her car seat the second I slip in next to her. Tears gone, she smiles at me and holds out her hand. I take it and bring it to my lips. She giggles as I plant three soft kisses on the back of her pudgy hand. I catch a small piece of potato on the corner of my lip as Olivia closes the door, and I quickly swipe it away.

“Yucky,” Chloe says, screwing up her face.

I smile through tears that drip over. “Yeah. Yucky.”

Sighing, I rest my head against her car seat and let her play with my hair, potato be damned. Olivia and Seth chat quietly outside the car for a brief second. He kisses her gently and they hug. They’ve got it good. If only I could sort my shit out and find someone who isn’t as batshit crazy as Jackson Quinn.

When they’re in the car and we’re driving away from my place, Olivia puts her hand on Seth’s thigh and he takes it in his. He glances sideways at her briefly before lifting her hand and kissing her fingertips.

“Sorry,” he grumbles. “It was a bad idea.”

“You tried to help.” Her lips quirk. “I love you even more for that.”

Seth sheepishly shrugs it off, glancing sideways at her before pushing on his rearview mirror and looking at me. “He’ll come around. He’ll be begging for your forgiveness by tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

“And if I don’t want him to?”

“He’s not a bad guy, Selena. He’s just…” Seth clicks his teeth. “Misguided.”

“Misguided?” I snort. “Yeah. Right.”

“You can stay with us for as long as you need to. We have plenty of room.”

I frown. Is Seth seriously offering to let me to stay at their place? Seth doesn’t hate me, but I know he can only put up with me in small doses, so either Olivia isn’t putting out and he’s trying desperately to get some, or he recently underwent a lobotomy.

“Um.” I clear my throat. “Thanks.”

Olivia beams beautifully over her shoulder at me…

…and I have never been more thankful to have her in my life.

Chapter Seven

Jackson

I’m an idiot.

I slump against the wall in a kitchen that isn’t mine, on top of food I didn’t cook. I ignore the way my ribs ache and my jaw throbs, the aftermath of Seth’s fists. Can’t blame him, I suppose. I hit him first, out of aggression and jealousy—an uncontrollable jealousy—and he put me in my place. Truth be told, I’m in such a fucked up place and I don’t know how I got here.

A sudden, sharp ache under my ribcage forces me to hunch over and I catch myself on my knees. How long has it been since I’ve flown off the handle like that? Now my head is clearer, I can see how ridiculous I sounded. How could I let Amelia get to me so easily? Like old times, she warped my way of thinking and I reacted irrationally…toward my own friends, like I did with my family the first time I got involved with her. I pushed my family away and have regretted every moment since. I don’t want to do that again. Without Seth or Selena, I have nothing. I don’t know where to start to make it better—or if I even can. Selena probably won’t speak to me again, and I don’t blame her.

I press my back against the wall and hang my head. Right on time, my cellphone buzzes in my pocket. I rush to answer it, only to deflate with disappointment when Amelia’s name flashes on my screen. How many times a day is she going to call me? I snap the phone to my ear, blowing air out of my nose as anger swells in my chest.

“You’ve got some nerve calling me,” I say, my voice as calm as the eye of a storm. “You lied to me. You’re lucky you’re not here right now or I would—”

“—you’d what? I’m not scared of you, Jackson Quinn. You can’t hurt me. Even if you wanted to.” A soft chuckle ends her sentence. “Besides, I didn’t tell you to act on it. I just put two and two together and presented my case. How you reacted to the information I gave you is your business, not mine.”

I grit my teeth. She’s always been good at avoiding responsibility. Selena avoids responsibility too, but not like Amelia. No one does it quite like her.

“You make me sick,” I tell her. “You instigated this from the beginning. I never should have believed you, and because of you I’ve ruined everything.”

Again, she chuckles softly. “What’s new, Jackie?”

And she ends the call. I drop my arm, exhaling heavily. I can’t do this. I can’t work for her. To surround myself with someone as cold and as vindictive as Amelia is absolute torture. I don’t know what I ever saw in her. I don’t know how I lasted as long as I did with her.

I shuffle across the kitchen floor to the long cupboard on the other side. From it, I grab the broom and the mop and get started on cleaning up the kitchen. I hate that this will be the memory of finding out that I’m going to be a father. There’s no saving the dinner. There’s no retake of this night. My only option is to make it better from here. After I clean this mess, I need to see Selena. I need the chance to explain myself. She can’t keep me at arm’s length anymore. I won’t let her. I know I have a lot to make up for.

Selena is pregnant.

The corners of my lips twitch, forcing my lips to curve into a smile. She’s carrying my baby. Mine.

And she wants to keep it.

***

Seth’s house has always been a sanctuary to me. Whenever life got too much, I knew I always had a place I could go to get away from whatever was chasing me. I’ve never trembled with nervousness as I sat in his driveway, not until now. Seth’s house has a different feel these days. It’s not a place I can just show up to anymore. His house’s purpose is to shield his family now, not nurture his self-destructive friends.

I turn off my car and rest against the seat, staring up at the dark, still house. In there, somewhere, is Selena. She’s probably angry. Sad. She’s probably deleting my number from her phone and all of the pictures we’ve taken together.

Have I made her cry herself to sleep for the umpteenth time? God. I hope not. Selena has forgiven me for every wrong thing I have done to her, but even I can’t help but wonder if I’ve reached a limit. I heard some women go crazy when they’re pregnant. Their maternal instincts kick in and suddenly they can smell a douchebag from a mile away. Is me sitting in the drive making her nose twitch?

Exhaling, I pull my keys out of the ignition and exit the car. The neighborhood is still and quiet, normal for a community of a higher social class, I suppose. Even Selena’s neighborhood is quiet. Where I live, it seems nobody sleeps most nights. Not the rats nor the homeless. The kicker? My apartment isn’t even in the worst part of town.

The air is crisp up here on the hill. Winter is definitely closing in on Portland.

I move to my back door and open it, reaching in for the black hoodie on my seat. It smells clean, like the rest of me. Fortunately, I had some clothes stashed at Selena’s house and took the liberty to shower. After two hours of cleaning, I needed one. I smelled like I’d spent the whole day in the gym.

I pull the hoodie over my head and push my arms into the sleeves before stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

I’m nervous. My heart pounds in my chest, harder than it has at the beginning of any fight. This time, my opponent is a girl I love more than anything in the world. She is my greatest achievement and my most terrifying rival. She’s the only person I know who can completely knock me off my feet and shatter my entire world. Tonight is the night I stop treating her like an enemy, like she’s standing across the cage from me, and start treating her like she’s sitting in my corner.

Because she is. She’s in my corner. Always.

I stroll up the path and make my way toward the front door. By the bottom step, I kick something. It giggles and vibrates against the dark stone. I startle at the sound, mostly because it sounds like the climax of a horror movie, and also because, on this quiet street, it’s as loud as a jetliner. Thankfully, it doesn’t last long. Its batteries fade and die before I bend to pick it up.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I climb the steps and knock on the door. I admit it’s a shitty knock, one I barely heard myself, but the door opens regardless. I set Chloe’s toy down to the side of the mat and straighten my spine.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Seth grumbles, lifting a beer to his mouth. He swallows a mouthful and tilts his head.

“Is there a reason why you answered the door without a shirt?” I ask, glancing away from him.

Seth peers down at his bare chest with a shrug. “Beer makes me hot.”

I snort. “How many have you had?”

“Enough not to give a shit about your accusations.”

“Yeah, well…” I look at him—really look at him. He’s my best friend…and I treated him like I didn’t know him at all. “I should have known you’d never—”

“Yes, you should have. I don’t even care that you think so little of me, Jackson. I don’t even care that you don’t trust your girlfriend, either. That’s not what pisses me off. What makes me absolutely furious is the fact that you disrespected Olivia, our marriage, and Chloe too.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did.” He takes another sip of his beer. “This childish shit has to stop, Jacks. You’re a grown ass man. Start acting like it or don’t come around here anymore.”

I cut my eyes at him, but how can I be mad? He’s right. Jumping to conclusions? Flipping out without discussion? That’s the old Jackson. That’s not me anymore. I don’t want to be that person. I can’t be.

“She fed it to me so easily…” I mutter. “I ate it up without hesitation. She—Amelia made it sound so convincing.”

Seth simpers, scratching at his bare chest. “I bet she did.” 

I don’t admit that a part of me wanted Amelia to be right. As I hand scrubbed tiles and soaked greasy plates tonight, I realized that deep down, in the dark depths of the old me, I wanted Selena to be pregnant with Seth’s baby. I wanted his own relationship to implode and blow up in his face. 

Out of jealousy, mostly. 

Out of spite too. 

I wanted him to feel how I feel most of the time…alone. Unloved. Unwanted. 

I selfishly wanted his fairy-tale to end—for him to finally see life like I do.

At the same time, I wanted life to finally give up this charade and prove for the one millionth time that I don’t deserve happiness. I don’t deserve the white picket fence and the big, warm house filled to the brim with children and love. All in the same moment, as I drove to Selena’s place earlier, I lost the plot at the revelation that it could be true…that life was fucking me in the ass yet again.

I hang my head and scuff my sneaker against the step. “I think I really fucked up this time, Seth.”

“You’ve done worse.” 

I lift my head and his volcanic eyes soften around the edges as he exhales.

“Can I see her?” 

He steps aside, granting me access to his house. “Provided you don’t wake Chloe on your way to the guest room. She’s asleep in her own bed for the first time in months.”

I nod and slip past him. He closes the door behind me and quickly falls into step, switching lights off as we go. When we enter the kitchen. I inhale, my stare zeroing in on the brown paper bag sticking out of the metal bin. 

I glance at Seth as he polishes off what’s left in his beer bottle. “Take out?”

He shrugs his freakishly broad shoulders. “Olivia made us pull over for burgers and fries on the way home.”

“Careful,” I utter, elbowing him in the guts. “You’ll get fat.”

He tightens his pecs, flicking them like the showboating monkey he is. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I didn’t eat it.”

I smirk. “Good.”

“Olivia and Chloe ate most of it. Selena just pushed hers around a little before going to bed.”

Forcing myself through the kitchen and over to the stairs, I sigh with a glance at Seth over my shoulder. Scratching his chest, he quietly lowers his beer into the bin.

“Wish me luck,” I tell him and he smiles at me.

“Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

Chapter Eight

Selena

The door to Seth and Olivia’s guest room clicks shut and my queasy stomach drops. I close my eyes and squeeze them tightly, not moving a single muscle. I listen carefully as he slips out of his sneakers and slowly approaches the bed. He doesn’t say a word. In fact, he gives me no indication that it’s even him, but I know it is. I smell my pomegranate body wash and the new scent it creates when it meshes with his skin. I inhale through my nose and hold it, until his scent is all that fills my lungs. Eventually, he sits on the edge of the bed and I let out a subtle exhale.

“Are you awake?”

I press my lips together, I’m not sure how to answer that question or if I even should. Without provocation, my lower lip begins to tremble. He’s come to talk, but where do we go from here? Now I know how he sees me. In his eyes, I’m exactly like Amelia. I’m dishonest and unfaithful. He thinks I don’t care about anyone but myself…even though I have proven time and time again that he is the love of my life and I would never ever do anything to hurt him like she did. After everything we’ve been through, the thought of him seeing me in the same light as her destroys me. I don’t know…maybe this whole thing is my fault. I distanced myself from him and the relationship when I shouldn’t have. I pushed him away just like she would. I treated him like a secondary figure in this relationship instead of a primary one. Am I to blame? I still don’t know how any of this works. Does the fault lie with me? Or does the fault lie with him? Perhaps it’s a fault we both should take responsibility for.

“Yeah. I’m awake,” I whisper.

Silence ensues, neither one of us knowing where to start. I don’t want to go first. I’m not the one who threw a tantrum and ruined dinner, after all. I deserve an apology for that first, and then we can move on.

“I messed up, Selena. I never should have listened to her.”

“Why did you?”

“I…she…I don’t know.”

I’m calling bullshit. Why does this woman have such a grip on him? Why does he let her? I don’t understand how Amelia—a woman who is known for being deceitful and cruel—can open her mouth to spew some hateful rumors to him about people she knows nothing about and he actually believes her? Jackson knows her better than anyone and still he chose her word over ours. I get that old habits die hard, but listening to anything she says and attacking me without confirmation is almost unforgivable. Almost.

“You don’t know?” I scoff, shifting on the bed, pulling the heavy blankets up to my ears. “Get out, Jackson.”

“I’m sorry,” he pleads, tugging on the blankets, pulling them down to my hips.

Cold air clings to the naked skin on my arms and I shiver. Groaning, I grab at the sheets, but he refuses to let them go. “Jacks—”

“Talk to me,” he demands. “I’m here. Let me fix this.”

“Fix it?” I spit, ignoring the hair that falls into my face. “What’s the point? We always end up back here, don’t we?” I let go of the blankets and roll onto my back. “Maybe we don’t belong together.”

Even in the dark, I see him flinch and my heart stutters painfully. “Bullshit.”

“Then why isn’t it easy? Seth and Olivia make it look so easy. If it’s destroying us, then it’s not love…”

It can’t be. Tears well in the corners of my eyes and I breathe through my mouth to prevent myself from sniffling. I’m tired of looking weak in front of him.

“It’s love,” he mutters. “I know it.”

“How do you know?”

He ponders his next words carefully and I listen as hard as I can, knowing his answer could either make or break us.

“I know it’s love because I’ve never felt like I do with you, ever. To put it into words is beyond my capabilities.” He clears his throat. “Amelia and I were destructive. I never loved her. I thought I did, but when I fell in love with you—real love—I realized the difference.”

“The difference?”

“With her, we’d fight and she’d put everything on me. It was never her fault. Hell, it was never our fault. She’d try to convince me I said things and did things that I know I never did. She’d purposely set up arguments and make me feel crazy to the point that I’d become so confused, I would second guess myself and my mental stability. The identity I had before I met her felt like it had been stripped away completely and I was certain I wasn’t normal—like she claimed. I mean, how could I be if this person had so much to say about my personality? Often, I would isolate myself in the bathroom and I’d curse and I’d cry…out of frustration. Despair. Confusion. Hurt.”

I roll onto my side to be closer. I want to touch him. It’s not often he opens up about his past relationship. He refuses to be vulnerable. He refuses to allow me to see him hurt.

“I didn’t know what to do with her…and I didn’t know what to do without her. I thought that meant I loved her, but once I met you…I realized she manipulated me. She made me think no one could ever love me like she claimed she did…”

“And yet you still answer her calls,” I point out, unable to keep the cold tone from my voice.

“It’s not because I want to answer them,” he counters, irritation clear in his tone. “I answered Amelia’s call because I agreed to fight Connor Cage.” I open my mouth to protest, but Jackson shuffles quickly, moving closer, and cuts me off. “She’s hosting it on behalf of some rich casino owner. It’s a lot of money, Selena.”

I bristle. How can he trust her? How can he want to do business with her? “That’s what this is about? You want to work with her?”

“Not with her.” He feels the need to clarify, but what’s the difference?

“I don’t care how much money she’s giving you. I don’t trust her.”

“I could support you and our baby for the rest of our lives.”

“I have money. More than we need—”

“Your father has money,” he shoots back. “And he’s made it pretty clear that he’ll cut you out of his life if you stay with me. I’m talking serious money here, Sel. I can support us from anywhere in the world. You want to raise the baby in Greece? Japan? Australia? Fucking Hawaii? If I win this fight, I can make it happen for you.”

I smile sadly in the dark. Is that what he thinks I need in order to be happy? I’m not unfamiliar with being treated like a trust fund baby. I’ve grown up with privilege—so much so that people think I can’t survive without the luxury. Maybe I believed that once too, but I don’t need money to be happy. I don’t need big houses and fancy cars. I just want to live a happy, fulfilling life with Jackson and our baby here in Portland.

“I don’t care about the money,” I tell him, glancing down to play with the hem of my thin, pink tank top. “What if something happens to you? That’s my only concern. Not to mention Seth and Darryl are going to be mad. You’re not allowed to—”

“Seth knows. He thinks I should do it. It’d be my last fight.”

I flick my attention to his face. I search it in the darkness, looking for some hint of deceit. Jackson? Done with fighting? I never thought in a million years that he could walk away from it. “Your last fight?”

Jackson pulls his hoody and shirt over his head and nudges back the blankets. I scoot over to give him space, only he catches me by the hips and pulls me back in close. Our chests are flush together as he wraps his legs around mine.

“I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired. Do you know how much of my life I’ve wasted sweating in a gym? I want to be outside. I want to eat foods I can’t pronounce. I want to live.”

I frown. “I thought you wanted to go pro?”

“I did, but now? I want more.” He plants a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I’ve burned out. No more bruises, broken bones, and ruptured spleens. I’m done.”

I’ve never thought about Jackson being done with fighting. When Seth was fighting, Olivia hated every second of it and I never understood why. She was getting all of this attention and privilege inside the arenas. I loved tagging along. It thrilled me! The energy, the anticipation, the twists and turns. I thought Olivia was weak because she couldn’t handle it, but then I fell in love with someone who enjoys getting pummeled on a regular basis too, and all of the fun was suddenly sucked out of it. The thrill in my stomach turned to dread. I didn’t enjoy watching Jackson get hurt.

If he’s going to give it all up and focus on our life together, then I have to take responsibility too. A clean slate, right?

“Before you throw everything out the window, I have my own confession.” Jackson’s finger twitches against my hip. “I don’t think we can move on from tonight until I tell you.”

I bite my lower lip.

“Tell me what?”

“I stopped taking my birth control on purpose.”

Against me, his muscles tighten. “Oh. How long have you—”

“Four months ago.” He tenses and I grab his thick wrist in my tiny hand before he can pull away. “I should have told you, but I thought you’d freak out.”

“Why?”

I know he’s clenching his teeth. I can hear it in his tone.

“Because I wanted us to have something more than you and Amelia ever did.”

“You can’t use a child to—”

“I know,” I cut in. “Believe me, I know. I’ve tortured myself over it since I found out I was expecting, but it’s done. I betrayed your trust and I’m sorry.”

He sits in silence. It’s heavy, so heavy it feels as though air is being squeezed from my lungs. I wonder what he’s thinking?

“We’ve always had something more than she and I ever did.” Jackson exhales and wraps me up in his arms. “We’ve both messed up.”

I nod, sliding my forehead against his warm, firm chest.

“And I think we both owe this baby a lot.”

I tip my head back and he cranes his neck to look at me. Even in the dark, I know he’s searching my face. Jackson’s lips graze mine and my breathing slows, an effect he’s always seemed to have on me.

“Did you really think Seth and I would—”

He squeezes my upper body tightly, so tightly my breath escapes me. “Don’t. Let’s forget about what I did and what I said, please.”

“I’ll forget about it, but only if you forget I ever participated in Seth’s revenge kiss all those years ago.” He loosens his grip and I slide the palms of my hands along his chest, feeling every dip and every rise. His muscles are hard underneath, like marble, but his skin is smooth and soft on top. “I don’t want to think about it again for as long as I live.”

In silence, his favorite form of communication, he glides his large rough hand underneath my tank top and rubs my belly. Up and down. I close my eyes as the callous tips of his fingers dance low on my abdomen, a private hello for our baby. He caresses me gently, lovingly. There’s no sexual intent in the way he touches me, but my skin ignites regardless. I shift, flexing my hips forward, and touch his thick wrist. 

“We’ll wake them,” he whispers. “Seth will kill me if Chloe stirs.”

I kiss him on the chin as I guide his hands north, to my bare breast.

“So don’t wake her,” I reply, cupping his hand with my own, making him squeeze my swollen breast. “I haven’t had you in forever.” 

“Selena…”

“Please, Jacks. Please.” 

Jackson tilts his head closer to mine. “Even when I don’t force you to, you still beg.”

“Because you never make it easy for me.” I grasp his face and make him kiss me.

Within the next heartbeat, his strong hands are in my hair and he’s forcing me closer, if that’s even possible. My head swims and my tummy rolls as Jackson flicks his tongue along my lower lip. I gasp and open my mouth, granting him access. 

Kissing Jackson is the single most potent aphrodisiac in the world. The way he does it sends me to another dimension. I become lost in him. His touch. His taste. His smell. 

There’s no way out unless he allows it. Our kiss consumes my soul, our tongues sliding in and out. We take turns, claiming, worshiping each other. 

He is mine and I am his. For real now. This is it. I can feel it in my mind, body, and my soul. There is no future worth living if we’re not together.

I sigh against his mouth as his touch turns desperate. I feel it in his fingers, the way they begin to look for bare skin to caress. I feel it in the way he moves his lips against mine, he’s starving for this.

And I’ve denied it over and over in fear of him not loving me for betraying his trust. 

I drag my hands down his chest and he rewards me with a shudder, a groan, and a clench. The ultimate trifecta of arousal.

“I love it when you touch me,” he utters, pulling back ever so slightly. “It feels…right.”

I prop myself onto my elbow and grab the hem of my tank top with one hand. “I don’t ever want it to feel any other way.”

I inch my shirt up, adjusting my position as I go, until my heavy breasts fall and I am free of the fabric. Even in the dark, I know he’s staring at my chest like a hungry lion stalking a wounded gazelle. 

I brace myself as he reaches out. I expect him to grab at me, to force my supple flesh into his mouth like he always does, but he presses a gentle palm to my cheek instead. 

I frown as he whispers my name. It’s sad, almost. 

“Do you love me?” he asks, flicking a gentle thumb over my cheekbone.

“Of course, I love you.”

“Will you love me ten years from now?” 

I don’t understand what’s happening right now. I tilt my head. “I’ll love you forever.”

“Regardless of my screw ups? Regardless of your father?” 

What is going on here? “Regardless of the Apocalypse, Jackson. Are you all right?” 

“I don’t want to do this now. This isn’t how I imagine tearing myself open and baring everything I have to you.”

“I’m not asking to do—”

“Marry me, Selena.”

My lips part with a rush of air I can’t stop. Did…he just ask me to…?

“Is this because of the baby?” 

“No.” He reaches out for my face. “Well, I mean, the baby has something to do with it, but I was gonna marry you anyway.”

I let him touch my face. I let him stroke my lower lip with his thumb, relishing the way my stomach flips and floats. I want to marry him. I want to be with him forever, but I don’t want to do this in the aftermath of a fight, in the aftermath of a mess Amelia made. Do I? 

“I don’t see myself being with anyone but you,” I tell him. I slip my hand over his and pull it from my face. “One day, when we’re not surrounded by poison, you can ask me again and I’ll say yes, but right now…I don’t want this to be our memory of it.”

Jackson chuckles. It’s deep and rich, not filled with disappointment. “You managed to reject me without hurting my feelings.”

Scoffing, I shove him and he grabs me low on my hip, holding me against him. “I didn’t reject you.”

“No, I get it.” 

“You do?” 

He cranes his neck until his lips graze mine. “I do.”

His fingers on my bare skin ignites my senses, like it always has.

“So, we’re okay?” 

Jackson kisses me, a single kiss that vibrates against my lips. 

“We’re more than okay.”

My breath hitches as he leans in and kisses me again, deeper this time. I don’t think I’ve ever grown accustomed to the way my nerves ignite when he kisses me, or when his hands move to intimate places. I hope I never do. 

Jackson nudges me onto my back, our kiss breaking. I let out a heavy exhale as his saliva dries on my lips. He coats my jaw and my throat in slow, torturous kisses, and I close my eyes. Underneath my palm, as I slide it through his hair, down the back of his neck, and the warm flesh of his bare shoulders, his skin feels as though it vibrates, and I can’t imagine having the same effect on him as he does on me. I mean, how could I? I’ve always felt so small, so insignificant when pressed up against him. 

Jackson’s lips brush over my collarbone and down to the valley between my breasts. I didn’t hear it before, but now it’s painfully obvious in this otherwise silent room. I’m panting, breathless.

He kisses the swell of my breasts as I move to bury my fingers in his hair. He continues to touch me all over, his fingers excruciatingly slow on my body, but he leaves nothing untouched, and eventually ends up south of my hips, toying with the hem of my plain underwear. 

I try to calm the rapid thrum of my heart. It’s outrageous. Loud enough to match the sound of a busy New York subway during peak hour. The mere feel of his bare skin on mine sends blood rushing through my veins, setting every inch of me on fire. My body trembles with anticipation as he moves closer to the spot I so desperately want him to be.

Pulling away from me, Jackson hooks his thick fingers around my underwear and tugs. Gasping, I lift my hips and our stares lock, even in the dark. I push my hips off the bed. Jackson sits back on his heels, sliding my underwear down my legs. I lift them, allowing him to whip them off my feet and toss them over his shoulder. 

I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s making me feel like this is our first time together. I move my arm and rest it across my breasts, covering my nipples completely. 

“Why are you hiding from me?” he asks, amusement lighting his tone. 

“You’re making me feel…”

He grips my leg and guides it toward his shoulder. “How am I making you feel?”

I place my ankle on his shoulder and he plants a soft kiss on the ball of my ankle. 

“Vulnerable,” I whisper. “Exposed.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” 

“Not bad. Not bad at all. Just…different.”

Jackson kisses my ankle again and again. He hunches forward as he makes his way back up my leg and onto my inner thigh. I purse my lips to keep from moaning and giggling as his stubble teases my sensitive flesh. It isn’t until he kisses the very outer edges of my vagina that I jolt upright, flicking my hips backward, away from his eager mouth. 

“Can we…can we skip this part?” I ask, tucking my hair behind my ears. 

He sits up slightly, resting his weight onto one arm. “You don’t want me to make you feel good?” 

“I do.” I lean forward and cup his face. I tug him closer to me and he shuffles between my thighs. “But I’m just not feeling one hundred percent in that area.”

He quirks a brow. 

“It’s slightly different now that I’m pregnant. More…you know…and I’d rather not have you exploring the area with your tongue.”

He pecks me on the lips, dragging his finger up and down my inner thigh, sliding dangerously close to the apex of my thighs. 

“I don’t care if it’s different, Selena, but I can skip it if that’s what you want.”

I nod and relax, letting my muscles fall into their usual Jackson-induced stupor. 

“I can touch you here though, right?” He flicks a finger over my opening and my breath hitches so hard my throat threatens to cramp. 

“Yeah…” I utter—I think I utter—and he touches me again, on the clit this time, and my hands fly to the sheet beneath my ass. I bunch it in my fists. 

I don’t think I’ve ever had so much pressure down below before. I don’t think I’ve felt so…so…engorged. 

Groaning, I let my legs fall apart and Jackson curses under his breath. 

“Don’t touch it,” I gasp, flexing my hips. “Just come here.”

My body begins to quiver—and it’s not normal. I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never felt so…cock drunk. Yeah. That’s what this is. 

“No foreplay?” Jackson chuckles, bringing his face level to mine. “That’s your favorite part.”

Desire pools in my belly as he positions himself between my legs, his sweatpants still on.

Why isn’t he in a hurry? I’m in a hurry. Sweat bubbles along my brow. “Take your pants off.”

He simpers, flicking his tongue against my lower lip. “No.”

“Jackson…” I growl and he clamps a hand around my mouth. 

“That was loud.”

I don’t care anymore. I don’t. I’ve never wanted him so bad. I’ve never been so turned on. 

Groaning, he flexes his hips against me and I feel the shape of his rock-hard cock beneath the pathetic fabric of his pants.

I press against him, desperate to feel any kind of friction. I need it. I need to release some of this tension. I lick the palm of his hand, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he cheers me on, demanding I like his warm flesh more and more and more, until he snatches his hand away and slaps it against my oh-so sensitive center. I gasp and groan, dropping my head back as he uses my own saliva to stimulate my already throbbing pussy. 

“Jackson…” I whisper, clenching the hem to his pants in my hands. I bring my knees as high as I can in order to feel more of him, to increase the friction, the pressure. 

He crushes his mouth to mine and kisses me so deeply I almost don’t realize the change of pressure between my legs. He’s replaced his fingers with the head of his bare cock, and I no longer grip the hem of his sweatpants, but his bare, smooth ass. 

Jackson hisses as he pushes the head of his stony erection inside of me and catches my lower lip between his teeth.

“I’ve needed this,” he rushes out on an exhale. “I’ve needed you.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. I’ve needed him too. 

“Show me.”

Jackson chuckles darkly, the kind of chuckle I haven’t heard in a long time, before pushing his entire length inside of me. Moaning, I arch my back, and he fills the space with his large arms, wrapping them around my waist as he holds himself deep inside me. 

We both sigh. Satisfied. After all this time, avoiding each other and fighting, we are home. 

“Is that okay?” he asks, the lust in his tone gone for the moment. “It doesn’t hurt? I’m not pushing on the baby?” 

I shake my head with a chuckle that vibrates my chest. “No. You’re fine.”

I flick my hips against him, letting him know it’s okay if he moves. He takes my lead and runs with it. I squeak as he slams his hand onto the bonded leather headboard and pounds wildly into my core, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

I bite my lip against all the noise I want to make. Is this how it’s going to be when we have our baby? Jackson and I doomed to silent sex? Excitement prickles along the back of my neck. Is it strange that I’m actually looking forward to it?

It doesn’t take long for my body to quiver. It never does with Jackson. He flicks his hips on the right angle and with varying tempo. I do my best to meet him thrust for thrust, but for most of it, all I can do is press hard against him as something sinister builds deep down. I cry out, urging him to keep going. He kisses me to shut me up, groaning his own pleasure into my mouth. 

I know how hungry he is. I heard it in the way he groaned. I can feel it in the way he kisses me. I grip his massive shoulders in my hands before sliding them onto his back. My nails bite into his skin. I know they do. His grunt confirms it, but I can’t stop, not when I’m so…close…to…

“Jackson.”

I gasp on an inhale as whatever built up inside me spills over. I shudder against him, relishing in the way my insides pulsate and clench. 

Jackson’s own movements become rigid and erratic as he buries his face in the crook of my neck and moans and groans against my damp flesh. 

I remove my fingernails from his skin and he quivers, as though the orgasm drained everything from his body, and I stroke his hair and the back of his neck.

“I have a dating scan tomorrow afternoon,” I tell him and he lifts his head.

I try to ignore the fact he’s still inside of me, but the twitching of his shaft is distracting…and a little arousing, if I’m being honest.

“A dating scan?”

“It’s an ultrasound.” I sense the nervousness in my tone. Can he? “We can see the jellybean, if you want?”

I don’t know why I approach the subject with caution. He’s accepted the fact he’s going to be a father, but for some reason, I’m still concerned about rejection.

“If I want?” I hear him smile as he chuckles. “Of course I want to see the jellybean. Can they tell if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“It’s a bit too soon for that, I think.”

Jackson pulls out of me, kicks off the rest of his sweatpants, and drops into the space beside me. Exhaling, he tucks me under his arms and holds me tight against his body. I’m painfully aware of the mess between my legs, but I don’t want to leave to use the bathroom just yet. Not during this conversation.

“What do you want? A boy or a girl?”

“A girl,” I say without hesitation. “Then a boy.”

“A girl, huh…” He clears his throat. “A girl would be the death of me.”

I nudge him playfully. “If Seth can deal with raising a girl, you can too.”

Jackson scoffs. “Seth’s fine now, but you wait until Chloe’s a teenager and boys start coming around. He’s going to lose the fucking plot.”

I laugh. Seth never wanted a girl, in fear of karma coming back to bite him in the ass, but he got one. I see Jackson’s point though. Even I dread Chloe’s teenage years. She’s going to be beautiful, like her mother, and Seth is going to have a tough time keeping the boys at bay.

“Selena?”

“Mm?”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a great mother.”

I smile against his chest. I never really thought about it—about what kind of mother I’ll be. Some would argue that I’m not cut out to be a parent. A few years ago, I would have agreed, but I’m not that girl anymore. Day by day, I’m slowly screwing my head on straight. I mean, I’m not perfect, but who is?

Pre-pregnancy, I never wanted children. I couldn’t figure out how anyone could voluntarily want their body hijacked by a little squishy beast. Who would want to push a watermelon out of their vaginas and choose to lose sleep?

But now I get it.

As soon as that pregnancy test turned positive, I knew in my heart that I’d do anything for this little jellybean inside me.

Absolutely anything.

Chapter Nine

Jackson

I don’t want to jinx it, but Selena and I are finally in a good place. She knows all my secrets and I know all hers. It’s freeing, to say the least. Today, nothing can bring me down. Not the rain, not Amelia, and definitely not the asshole standing across this damn ring from me.

“You’re light on your toes today…” Seth points out as he slips into my corner. He grabs at my headgear, checking the strap. “So was Selena at breakfast. I assume the talk went well last night?”

I glance sideways at him. Mostly because of the tone he used when he said the word “talk.”

“The talk went just fine.”

He smirks at me, a gentle curve in his lips that he can’t hide, even if he wanted to.

“You going to be my ring girl today?” I tease. “Is that why you’re not wearing a shirt?”

He shoves me against the corner pole with a laugh and I catch myself on the ropes. On second thought, Seth seems less wound up today as well. Perhaps we both had talks last night that went well. I glance over my shoulder at Olivia, who chats to a woman strolling on a treadmill. With a broad smile, she pulls her hair into a high ponytail and smooths her palms down the front of her white tank top. I can’t tell if she got laid. She’s always bouncing around like energy manifests in her veins on demand. Turning to Seth, I push myself back onto my feet.

“You know what we’re doing today, yeah?” he asks, adjusting the straps on my red boxing gloves.

I shrug, not bothering to look at him. “Yeah. I’m going to beat the shit out of…whoever that guy is.”

“Not exactly.” He points at my opponent. “We’re working the body all while avoiding shots to the head. Think you can manage?”

I nod and slip my mouthguard into my mouth. He slaps the headgear and I bite into the mouthguard out of frustration. I hate wearing headgear. It throws me off. “Piece of cake.”

Seth leaves the ring and joins Darryl on the floor. I hear Darryl chastise him in a hushed tone for allowing me to drop out of going pro legitimately. He shouldn’t worry about me so much. He’s got a good thing going here at the gym. He’ll find someone else to coach, sure enough. Plus, I’ll pay him well if I win Amelia’s fight. I’m talking enough money to allow him to go into early retirement. Seth too.

“All right,” Seth shouts, planting his hands on his slim hips. “Get to it then.”

I glance at him. Is the bell not working? My opponent, a familiar six-foot lean bean, walks toward me, his blue boxing gloves held up. He steps cautiously, way too cautious for a friendly spar. I simper. I suppose he’s right to feel on edge. I don’t do friendly spars. I step out of my corner with all the confidence in the world. I’m on cloud nine. I’m going to be rich and I’m going to be a daddy. Nothing can stop me today.

Selena

It’s been a while since I’ve stepped foot in Seth and Olivia’s gym. The glass door closes behind me and I stop, letting the air-conditioning blow against my skin, shivering as the small drops of freezing, unwanted raindrops are pushed around by the cold air. It’s funny. This gym used to belong to Olivia’s dad before Seth bought it. Since Rick’s unexpected departure, they’ve made a lot of changes to the gym, but it still feels like it always has. In a way, this place is a second home to me. Olivia and I used to spend so much time messing about inside these walls…such a long time ago now. I wonder if our children will find as much comfort in this place as we did. I hope Jackson and I have a girl. She and Chloe would be the best of friends. God knows, if we have a boy, we wouldn’t see them as much, if at all. Not if Seth has a say, anyway. I smirk at the thought as I make my way across the floor and over to the ring in the far right corner. I don’t know whose kid will be more corruptive, mine or theirs?

I catch sight of my outfit in a semi-distorted sheet of steel glued to the wall. I hope a white, frilly blouse and a cute pair of black A-line shorts is appropriate for an ultrasound. I glance down to my simple black heels. These might be a bit much…

I tilt my head up and look for Jackson. Like I expected, he’s in the boxing ring, his fists sheathed in dyed leather, his head too. I slow my steps as he angrily swipes at his head and shouts something at Seth.

Seth’s large hands grip the rope and I can see the tension in his muscles as he squeezes tightly. I hear the word “headgear” snapped in Seth’s dark tone, but Jackson swipes at it again.

I pick up my pace, moving quickly toward the ruckus. Olivia keeps a tutu-clad Chloe occupied by the yoga mats to the left with a pen and Darryl’s clipboard.

“Hey,” I greet, sliding up beside Darryl, who stands next to Seth, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his cargo pants. Everything about him is resigned, like he’s given up the argument already. I don’t blame him. Jackson isn’t an easy to person to argue with.

“Selena,” Jackson snaps, his voice somehow filled with relief. “Will you take this damn thing off?”

He swipes at his head again and I frown.

“The headgear?”

Seth whirls to face me and I inch back as he towers over me with his gigantic frame. “He needs it.”

“I don’t need it,” Jackson counters, crossing the ring to where we stand.

“Six shots to the head, Jackson,” Seth growls, not taking his eyes off me. “I’m trying to avoid a concussion.”

Oh, boy. It seems I’m wedged between a hard place and a hard place. I peer around Seth to Olivia, clenching my Michael Kors little black clutch in my hand. She shrugs at me and hands Chloe a pencil, leaving me to fend for myself against the wolves.

“I wouldn’t have been hit in the head if I could fucking see.” Again, Jackson hits the headgear. “This is ridiculous. Take it off, or I’m done.”

Clearing my throat, I move past Seth to the ring. With a growl, he snatches my wrist in his large hand, catching me off guard.

“Seth,” Jackson and Olivia warn in unison.

I see the struggle in the deep, dark depths of Seth’s stare as he turns it on me. I know he’s just trying to look after his friend as well as be a good coach, but Jackson doesn’t want to wear the headgear. Besides, when did Seth ever wear the headgear?

“You never wore your headgear,” I point out and Darryl mumbles his agreement.

Seth releases me with an exhale. “Fine, take his headgear off, but you’re putting him at risk, not me.” He turns his angry, volcanic gaze to Jackson. “You clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

I move to the stairs as Jackson laughs at Seth. “I know who he is. Mitchell Fabriza. World Middleweight Boxing Champion, two years in a row.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jackson moves to the ropes with a smile just for me. I reach out and pinch the straps of his headgear between the tips of my fingers. “Because I don’t care. I’ll beat him anyway.”

Seth snorts. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Confidence is sexy,” I tell him, freeing his chin from the strap.

He smirks. “You think I can beat him?”

“You’re just sparring.” I grab the top of the soft headgear and free Jackson’s head, smiling at his flat, sweaty hair. “It’s friendly.”

“When am I ever friendly?”

“Good point,” I tease. “I think you can beat him, but I also think you don’t have to. We have a scan soon, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Shooting forward, he kisses me on the nose. “Give me ten minutes and then we’ll go.”

I nod. Lucky for Jackson, I arrived early just in case something stopped him from leaving straight away. I make my way back down the stairs. Behind me, the heavy sounds of fists pummeling flesh fills the air, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall.

I join Olivia and Chloe on the mats, crouching low in my heels.

“Weena,” Chloe cheers without looking up from her scribble on Darryl’s notepad.

“Hi, sweetheart.” I touch her chocolate hair, smoothing down her waves with my palm. “What are you drawing?”

She ignores me, making Olivia giggle.

“I’m sure there’s an animal in there somewhere.” She rests back on her hands, grinning widely at me, exposing her pearly white teeth. “Are you excited for the ultrasound?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’m a little nervous too. Is that normal?”

“Of course.”

I woke up this morning irrationally thinking what if I made this all up? What if I’m not actually pregnant? It’s possible, you know. Women have phantom pregnancies all the time. Mine was confirmed with a blood test, however, so I have that to keep me sane, at least.

“I know we couldn’t talk much at breakfast because Seth was there, but I’m really glad you and Jackson sorted it out. It kills me to say it, but you’re good together.”

Olivia and Jackson have rarely seen eye to eye, like Seth and I, but she knows the guys I usually date. Jackson’s hard to swallow, but I’ve never felt with anyone the way I do when I’m with him.

Heat swells in my cheeks at the thought of last night. He asked me to marry him which was a surprise. I had no idea he was so invested in us.

“Why are you blushing?” she probes, her green eyes igniting with glee.

I contemplate keeping it from her, but the urge is too strong. When I have I ever been able to keep gossip like this under wraps?

“Jackson asked me to marry him last night.”

Her eyes go wide, her lips parting. “Oh my God. What did you say?”

“I told him to ask me again when we’re in a better place and Amelia isn’t in the picture.” More or less.

As much as I would enjoy rubbing our union in Amelia’s face, I can’t. Trying to one-up her is the reason my life became such a mess in the first place. From here on out, I’m going to worry less about Amelia ruining my relationship with Jackson and focus on not ruining what we’ve already got myself.

“Good. I can’t stand that woman.”

That makes two of us.

“I don’t know why he’d want to work for her,” she continues. “I don’t trust it.”

“Yeah, well, he’s convinced he’s doing the right thing.” I swallow. “Would Seth do it?”

Olivia exhales in thought, glancing over my shoulder. “I want to say no, but…I think he would if it meant he could better support us.”

I don’t know why I find comfort in that answer. I guess, in a way, I do admire Seth for all that he does for his family, and if he’d do it for Olivia, Jackson can do it for me without the added pressure of my worries. I want to be there for him through this whole ordeal and then, when it’s over, we can finally put it all behind us and move forward with our precious little jellybean.

***

My bladder is full. Like, crazy full. The sensation makes me want to puke. Beside me, Jackson bounces his leg, his attention flicking over the baby photos and scans that run along the skirting of the ceiling. It’s interesting, what they can see inside the belly. Legs. Arms. Head. Organs. I don’t think our baby is going to look like much of a baby at this appointment, but at least we get to see its heartbeat. That’s all I want. Once I know everything is okay, I’m sure this dread I’m feeling deep down will go away.

I can’t explain the feeling…it’s heavy and not comforting at all. I don’t know if it’s something I’m bringing on myself or—

“—Selena Graham?”

Jackson and I jump to our feet and the mature woman that called my name offers us an endearing smile.

“Right through here,” she says, stepping to the side, clenching a small white paper in her plain hand.

Jackson plants a firm, supportive hand on my lower back and ushers me through reception, down a hall, into a dark room on the left. It smells like disinfectant, as all of these medical places do, I’ve recently noticed.

The lady closes the door and suggests I lie down on the bed and expose my belly. I do the best I can to relax my whole body without peeing myself, and once my flat tummy is out in the open, Jackson moves into the space beside me.

“You can sit down on that chair over there, if you like.”

“I’m good,” he tells her, taking my hand in his and offering me a comforting smile.

I didn’t tell him that he looks good in his tight black polo and loose jeans and he smells even better. The sonographer asks me to confirm my full name and date of birth, so I do. She asks me how many times I’ve been pregnant and I ignore the unintentional twitch in Jackson’s grasp before I answer with “once.”

Without a word, she lifts a strange-looking wand thing and squirts a clear lubricant on the end. I inhale through my mouth, subtly, as she brings the wand to my belly. I close my eyes for a brief moment, until I can’t bear not looking at the screen, and I glance up at the screen above me.

I wait.

She pushes a little harder and I can’t see anything. It’s cloudy, almost. I wait some more, patiently, catching my lip between my teeth. How small is this little baby? Does it usually take this long to see it? Swallowing, I look at the lady’s face. There’s a slight wrinkle between her manicured brows. She’s focusing hard on the screen and every now and again, she’ll freeze it and take photos.

Jackson drags his thumb over the back of my hand and it stirs panic in my chest, but it’s okay, right? Of course, it is. This is normal. I mean, the woman hasn’t said anything. Wouldn’t she tell me if there’s something wrong?

Ten minutes pass and still nothing. I blink rapidly to hold back the tears. Still, she hasn’t confirmed if everything is okay or not. In my chest, my heart beats like it never has before and suddenly all I want is to do my pants back up and leave. I want to pretend like I never even came here.

“Okay,” the woman says after an eternity of silence. With a gentle, sad smile, she hands me a towel. “I’ll be right back.”

Without adjusting the ruffle in the bottom of her shirt near the hem of her purple uniform, she rushes from the room. I press the towel to my belly. My lungs don’t feel big enough, all of a sudden.

“Here,” Jackson utters, taking it from my hand. “I’ll do it.”

He gently rubs at my belly, cleaning off the gel. We don’t speak besides that. I think we both know what’s coming. When he’s done, I sit up and button my pants. I manage to get my shirt over my belly as the woman reenters the room, another sheet in her hand.

She closes the door behind her.

“Selena, darling…”

My chest tightens unbearably and I bite my tongue to stop tears from welling in my eyes as a wave of anguish threatens to hit me. I can’t cry, right? She hasn’t even given me the bad news. Assuming it’s bad news, I can’t cry over something that wasn’t there in the first place. It makes no sense.

“I couldn’t see anything,” she admits, her thin lips turning down at the corners.

I nod, trying so damn hard to keep my composure, to treat this like any other medical check-up, but if I don’t leave soon, I’m going to implode.

“I have to recommend that you go back and see your doctor.”

I nod again, more vigorously. “Okay.”

Tears flood the rims of the lady’s eyes and they turn red, but she does an amazing job at holding them back. Jackson’s warm hands touch me. He rubs my back and caresses my shoulders as he asks the lady what’s wrong. I don’t hear much. My blurry stare is focused on the carpet and I can’t lift it. She mentions that she can’t really say, and that the next step would be to speak to my doctor, who would be better suited to have this conversation.

Choked sobs rack my chest as the tears finally pour over the brim of my eyes. I don’t try to stop them. I can’t. The sonographer gestures toward the toilet and I rush to it, in shock, fear, pain, and embarrassment. In the bathroom, I rest against the cold door and cover my mouth. I’ve never been a loud crier, and in this moment, I want to be silent more than anything, but I can’t. A hiccup in my chest has me gasping for air.

I use the toilet and cry into a handful of toilet paper. When the tears stop flowing and my makeup is pretty much ruined, I straighten myself up and exit the room. Jackson waits on the edge of the bed, holding my clutch in his hands. The poor woman who delivered the news is nowhere to be seen. Not that I mind. I’d rather not deal with her.

“Can we go?” I ask, swiping at my face.

He nods and stands up.

“Selena…” Our stares lock. Jackson isn’t an emotional man. At least, not in my opinion, but his watery eyes perfectly reflect how hurt he is…how hurt I never, ever wanted to make him.

“We’ll get through this, yeah?”

I reach out and grab his shirt in my hands. Stepping forward, I bury my face into the fabric and cry against his hard chest. The tears flow with ease, like I didn’t just cry a literal river in the bathroom already.

Jackson holds me close, comforting me without saying a word. He does the whole way to my doctor’s office. Thankfully, he was more than happy to make time in his schedule to see me.

I don’t know how this day got so fucked up. I just don’t. 

Chapter Ten

Jackson

This morning I was the happiest I’d ever been in my life, and now? I’ve never been so devastated. It’s hard to see her like this. It’s like the color in her eyes has faded. I didn’t realize how badly she wanted us to have a baby…until the ultrasound didn’t show one. Not long ago, Selena was anti-children. Even Chloe was too much for her to handle. Funny how things change.

I’ll admit, the results are disheartening, but my top priority is making sure Selena is okay and healthy. Where do we go from here? What do we need to do? How can I help?

I hold Selena’s trembling hand as she bounces her leg. The doctor reads over the report again and again before turning his attention to us. There’s a sad tilt to his lips as he looks at me.

“You’re the partner?” 

I nod. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of such unfortunate news, but this pregnancy is not viable.”

I shift on my seat. You’ve got to be kidding me. “Yeah, we got that impression when they couldn’t find our baby on the scan. What I want to know is why? How can you be so sure?” I demand, catching Selena lowering her head out of the corner of my eye. 

She sobs and I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb. I don’t mean to upset her, but I want answers. I want to know why it’s not viable. What if they made a mistake? What if they’re wrong? It happens. 

“What I’m diagnosing Selena with, as a result of all of the tests I did, is a molar pregnancy.” He reaches for a pen and a scrap of paper before placing the white sheet in front of me. With his left hand, he draws an oddly shaped circle. “This is the uterus,” he points out, adding other bits and pieces to his shitty little art project. “These are the ovaries, tubes, etcetera. Now, a molar pregnancy is formed when an egg with no genetic information is fertilized by a sperm. Unfortunately, it doesn’t develop into a fetus, but continues to grow as a lump of abnormal tissue that resembles a cluster of grapes.” He draws it onto his diagram. “It expands at a quick rate, and comes with all of the usual pregnancy symptoms, plus others.” He turns his sympathetic brown eyes on Selena, who can’t bring herself to look at him. “Like the on and off spotting you’re experiencing. With risk to my own career here, I’m telling you with one hundred percent certainty that Selena is suffering a molar pregnancy.”

I clench my jaw as acceptance settles in. If there’s one thing fighting taught me, it’s that you can always trust a man who is willing to put his entire career on the line. 

“So, what’s the next step?” I ask, wanting to get Selena through this and on the road to healing as quickly as possible. 

I know she’s torturing herself—with thoughts of me, undoubtedly—and I don’t know how to let her know that these things happen, and I am okay, and she is okay, and we’re going to get through this…as a family. 

“It’s straight to the emergency room from here, I’m sorry to say.” From his drawer, he plucks out an envelope. “This will get you through the fray of the emergency room fairly quickly. There, they’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of it?” Selena asks, her voice thick with emotion. 

She lifts her head, her beautiful eyes glistening. I swallow hard. The look of her, the quiver in her voice, and the tremble of her fingers, tugs at my heart strings. She doesn’t want to let go.

“It’s important that you understand there is no baby, Selena. There never was a baby. You’re sick, and we need to get you better.” 

“Are they going to…” She slaps her hand over her mouth to suppress a sob. 

“They’ll terminate the growth with a simple procedure. You’ll be under general anesthetic. You won’t feel a thing.”

“Just like that?” she utters. “It’s over?”

Her doctor tilts his head on angle, his eyes soft around the edges, the corners of his lips down turned. 

“It’s over.”

Selena

For the second time today, I’m tucked under Jackson’s arm and ushered out of the door after he insists on paying for the appointment.

I no longer feel pregnant. Funny that. I feel heavy, like there’s a sickness in me that grows larger by the second. Some…sick disease has hijacked my body and tricked me into thinking what I had was real. A single tear rolls down my cheek. I wanted it. 

I wanted it so bad. 

The plan now is to go home, pack an overnight bag, and head to the emergency room. Oh, how my plans have changed. Originally, after the scan, I wanted to take Jackson out for milkshakes, and then maybe walk around the shops to pick out a cute baby blanket or a pair of booties. It’s stupid, I know, especially considering miscarriages can happen out of the blue. I just wanted to put today in concrete. I wanted it to be immortalized in my mind forever. 

In a way, I guess it will, but not for the reasons it should. 

I’m not going to be a mother any time soon…and it sucks. What’s worse is the fact that I told Jackson he was going to be a father and then I ripped it out from underneath him, like Amelia did. Perhaps I’m not so different after all. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says as he opens the door to his truck. I climb in and sit. “And you shouldn’t be.”

“How can I not?”

“It’s not the same thing, Selena. You’re not her.” He tugs on my seatbelt and reaches across my thighs to clip it in. “I need to call Seth and let him know I won’t be showing up to our last session tomorrow. Do you mind if I let him know what’s going on?”

I shake my head. I’d rather Olivia hear it through Seth than me. I can’t talk about it. I’m not ready. Jackson closes the door and turns his back to me. In the silence, I cry a little more. The tears drop into my palms and roll down my wrists. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop crying—which is ridiculous. I feel so silly for acting this way. Grieving something that didn’t exist in the first place?

I watch as Jackson paces back and forth in front of the car, talking to Seth. There’s disappointment on his handsome face, a little anger too, and then he’s done. He slips his phone into his front pocket and joins me in the car.

“Seth said Olivia will want to come see you at the hospital, but I told him no.” He glances sideways at me. “Unless you want her company?”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t want any company.”

I’m not even sure I want his company, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I want to cry alone, without feeling like I’m overreacting. Or is that an overreaction?

Jackson drives away from the doctor’s office and toward my place. I glance out the window the whole time, watching the world zip by without really seeing it. When we get home, after taking off my heels, I sit on the edge of my bed while he walks around my room, packing things into a backpack on my behalf. Shirts, pants, a dress just in case, and a pair of runners. At one point, I hear him curse from the bathroom as he flicks through my makeup drawers.

“Don’t worry about it,” I call out. “I won’t wear makeup.”

He steps out of the bathroom, zipping up the full backpack in his hand, and a small smile on his lips. “That makes things a lot easier.”

I look at him and his smile falters, falling into a sad expression I don’t like. It tears at my fucking heart.

“We don’t have to rush off right away…” Jackson lowers the backpack to the floor and strolls over to me. “We can rest for a little while, if you want.”

I shake my head, pushing myself to my feet. “I just want this to be over and done with.”

He takes my hands in his and wraps them around his waist. I bury my face into his shirt and close my eyes. His sweet, musky cologne tickles my nostrils and soothes an uneasy feeling in my chest.

“We can always try again,” he mutters, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “When you’re ready.”

Try again? After all of this? What if it happens again? What if I can’t ever have a baby?

“Aren’t you scared of going through this again?” I ask, breathing through my nose to quell the fresh sobs that wobble up and down my throat.

“I’m scared,” he utters, “but I’d let us go through it a million times if it means, one day, it might happen for us.”

I lift my head, craning my neck to look him in his lovely, green eyes. “Do you think it will happen for us?”

I never thought in a million years that I would be having this conversation. I didn’t know, until now, how badly I wanted to have a baby. Once the tests came back positive, it wasn’t hard to fall in love with the idea…

…and now it’s hard to swallow that fact it’s not happening.

“Sure.” His lips twitch. “When the time is right.”

I glance down and rest my head against his chest again. I don’t know how long we stand here in silence, but I know it’s not nearly as long as I want.

Before I know it, we’re in the car and driving toward the hospital. I try not to turn my nose up at the smell of disinfectant and faint hints of second hand cigarette smoke as the sliding doors pull open. I haven’t been to the emergency room for myself since I was young. I don’t remember it being this intimidating.

Jackson holds my hand tightly as he tugs me up to the triage desk. The lady behind the desk briskly shuffles through a thick stack of paper, her eyes flicking to us with disdain as Jackson places the envelope on the counter. Behind us, there are no seats to sit.

The woman leaves the wad of paper alone and tightens her short, plum ponytail. “Can I help you?” she asks, dropping into her seat.

“This is a referral from our regular practitioner,” Jackson replies, handing over the envelope. “He instructed us to come straight here.”

The woman opens the envelope and reads the letter inside. I stand quietly next to Jackson, desperately trying to fight off the next round of tears. I know I’m being hard on myself, but I just can’t stop thinking that when I walk out of these doors next, I will be less of the woman that I was when I came in.

She asks us to take a seat, much to Jackson’s dismay, and we stand by the far-left wall. A few minutes later, they call my name and I straighten my spine as Jackson plants a hand low on my back. I ignore the glares of the other people in the room. Undoubtedly, they’ve been waiting to be seen a hell of a lot longer than I have. They see that my eyes are puffy, my posture defeated, but still they hate me for being called upon sooner. Believe me, I’d trade places with any one of them, if I could.

We walk down a small corridor and enter a room full of beds separated only by thin, blue and white curtains, the name of the hospital embroidered along the bottom. On the freshly made bed lies a lavender gown that looks absolutely intimidating.

“Change into that, please, and relax. A doctor will swing by to see you shortly.”

Jackson sets the backpack on the floor and lowers himself into a seat next to the bed.

“Do you want me to hold the curtains shut while you change?”

I shake my head. “It’s okay.”

I whip off my white blouse and reach for the gown. Without a word, I move over to Jackson and turn around, allowing him to tie the strings. He does them tightly, so the fabric doesn’t open at the back. When I’m done, I unbutton my pants and pull them out from underneath. He takes my normal clothes and puts them inside the bag while I sit on the edge of the bed.

Right on cue, a woman with a clipboard slips between the curtains and into my space.

“Selena Graham?”

I nod.

“My name is Doctor Hart, and I’ll be overseeing your treatment while you’re here.” She lifts the first page and scans the next. “We’ll be transferring you to the woman’s health unit once a bed becomes available, but for now we’ll do all our tests from here, if that’s okay.”

I nod again.

“Selena, when was your last period?”

I blush and it’s violent through my cheeks. I’ve been asked this question a few times since finding out that I was preg—well, not pregnant…I’ve been asked a few times since this ordeal started, but never in front of Jackson.

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“And was this your first pregnancy?”

I swallow a bitter gulp. “Yes.”

“And how far along are you?”

“Nine weeks, give or take.”

She scribbles over the paper, taking notes as she goes. I was kind of hoping they’d skip over their interrogation and just get it out of me and let me go home. I don’t want to talk about it. Not ever.

“Have you ever heard of a molar pregnancy before?”

I shake my head.

“Did your doctor explain what it is?”

“Briefly,” Jackson chimes in. “More so about how they are formed. If you could elaborate, that’d be great.”

Doctor Hart lowers her clipboard and tucks her pen into the pocket of her white coat. “Okay, a molar pregnancy is a benign tumor that develops in the uterus. There are two kinds of moles. Partial and complete. It says in the letter of referral from your doctor that he believes yours is complete. This means there is no normal embryo or normal placental tissue in your uterus.”

“And a partial?” Jackson asks, shifting forward in his seat. “How’s that different?”

“If it was a partial mole, there’d be an abnormal embryo and possibly some normal placental tissue, but even if there was an embryo in the uterus, developing alongside the mole, it’d be malformed and couldn’t survive.” She scratches her head, careful not mess her perfectly coifed bangs. “A molar pregnancy requires early treatment, so we’re going to rush you through as quickly as we can. Before we can do the surgery, we would like to run a few more tests, if that’s okay?”

“What kind of tests?” I ask, scratching at the inside of my forearm.

Nerves eat at me, even more than they already have. I’m not a fan of hospitals or tests.

“We’ll need to x-ray your chest to make sure it hasn’t spread outside of your uterus. Although it’s a non-cancerous tumor, it can spread to other parts of the body just the same.”

“And if it’s in other parts of the body?” Jackson chimes in before I can.

“Then we’d need to treat her with chemotherapy.”

“But you said it’s not cancer?”

“It’s not.” She turns her kind, brown eyes on me. “Once the surgery is done, you’ll have to get regular blood tests. That’s once a week for six months, and then once a month for six months. This allows us to monitor your HCG level and make sure it’s dropping. If it doesn’t drop steadily over the twelve-month period, then we’ll treat it with chemotherapy and that has an extremely high success rate for this kind of mole.”

From her clipboard, she hands me a couple pamphlets on molar pregnancies and in enters a nurse.

“Do you mind if we take a sample of your blood for our own records?”

What am I going to do? Refuse it? “Sure.”

The energetic little nurse zips around the room, collecting kidney dishes and vials from drawers. The doctor leaves as the nurse dons a pair of gloves and grabs a strap for my arm. When she’s done taking my blood, she tells me to get into bed and rest. With a kind, sympathetic smile in her eyes, she also lets me know that she’s scheduled me for an x-ray and that I’ll be moving into a new room shortly. I thank her even though I don’t want to do any of it.

I lie down, letting the firm hospital bed hold me. There’s no TV or books. There’s nothing to distract me from my own mind and I hate it. I roll onto my side and face Jackson, who’s already watching me, his concern plainly painted on his beautiful face. I hate this wounded puppy look of his. He pulls it off so damn well.

“You don’t have to stay,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “I’m going to be here a while.”

His concern melts away as he forces himself to smile at me, his firm, full lips curving in that way I like so much. “I don’t care. I’ll be here until they force me out.”

Moving the bag out of the way, Jackson drags his chair closer and reaches out to touch the side of my face. “You look kinda cute in that hospital gown.”

I chuckle and swipe at a rogue tear I didn’t feel fall until it rolled down my cheek. “You think so?”

“I do.”

“I should get some for home then.”

Jackson laughs, and the sound is so sweet and soothing. I bet it could cure any affliction if only they knew how to bottle it. I’m glad he’s here with me. As much as I want to push him away because I feel like I’ve failed him, I can’t. He’s going through this too and we need to be here for each other. No matter what.

“I think we’ll be okay,” I utter, reaching out to touch his bicep. “We can get through anything, right?”

He leans in close, so close his forehead touches mine.

“There isn’t a single doubt in my mind.”

Maybe what’s happening is a good thing. Maybe this is what we need to finally bring us closer as a couple. After this, we can start fresh. No secrets. We can try again together and prepare well in advance, so these sorts of things don’t happen. Jackson reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny black box. My heart skips a beat. “Jacks—”

“I don’t want to do it here,” he tells me, “but I can’t wait any longer. Marry me, Selena? Let me make you happy, please?”

He opens the box, and inside is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. It’s simple. A gold band with a single green stone in the center. “Oh, my…”

“I know it’s not huge, but once I win this fight, I can replace it.”

I take the velvet box from his hand and inspect it closer. “I don’t want another one. I don’t want a bigger, shinier, more expensive ring. I want this one.”

Forever.

Jackson plucks the ring from between the white, velvet sponge and takes my hand in his. I’m crying again.

Out of fear.

Out of grief and unease.

Out of love.

I let him slide the ring onto my finger and it fits so beautifully. I know I told him last night that I didn’t want a bad memory to taint the moment he proposes to me, but this could not have come at a better time. Somehow, it’s revived me. It’s like I’m no longer staring at the brick wall that blocks me from the rest of my life. This ring has chipped away at the stone and the cement and I can see that perhaps this hiccup isn’t the end of the road for us.

“Take a nap with me?” I ask, shuffling backwards on the bed.

He glances around our space. “I don’t think I’m allowed on the bed…”

I pat the mattress beside me and he can’t resist. With a heavy exhale, Jackson climbs onto the bed with me and wraps me up in his strong arms, pulling me close to his body. I close my eyes and imagine us in a different place. It’s not that hard.

Due to my mental and physical exhaustion, it doesn’t take me long to drift off into a peaceful slumber, my body surrounded by the only man I’ve ever loved…

…and the only man I will ever love.

Chapter Eleven

Jackson

It doesn’t take a nurse long to come and disturb Selena’s sleep. She doesn’t say anything when she pulls the curtain back and sees me on the bed with her, cuddling. I expect her to throw the hospital rule book at me, but she offers me a sad smile instead. Unfortunately, we can’t stay like this forever. Sighing, I drag myself off of the bed as quietly as I can and straighten up. I turn to the nurse. Samantha, her name badge says, and she regards me with fear, almost…like I make her uncomfortable. Wouldn’t be the first time, I suppose. No one looks at my tattoos and assumes I’m friendly.

“Do you mind waking her?” Samantha whispers, pushing a wheelchair up beside the bed. “We need to do that X-ray now. Afterwards, we’ll take her to the Women’s Health wing and she can sleep some more.”

“Sure.”

I lean over and plant a soft kiss on Selena’s face. Groaning, she curves her back and stretches her arms. “Hm?”

“Time for your X-ray,” I mutter, pushing the blankets down to her hips.

Her eyelids flutter open and she regards me curiously with her glowing eyes. “Now?”

I nod. “Yep. Nurse is here.”

Selena straightens her arms and pushes herself into a sitting position. I chuckle under my breath as Selena swipes at her hair and rubs her face with her hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“That’s okay,” Samantha says, gripping the handles of the wheelchair in her small hands. “It’s a good way to pass the time.”

Selena slips off the bed. She’s much taller than the tiny nurse. “Do I have to sit in the wheelchair?”

“Hospital policy, I’m afraid.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Selena sits in the wheelchair, placing her bare feet on the foot holders.

The nurse turns her ocean blue eyes on me. “You won’t be able to come with us, I’m sorry, but if you follow the signs in the hall, you should find yourself in the reception area of the Women’s Health wing, where you can wait for Selena to return.”

The urge to contest her bubbles in my chest and I slide my teeth together. Why can’t I go? I doubt anyone would be able to stop me.

“Jackson, I’ll be okay.”

I look at Selena and I want to protest, but I can’t. Not when she has her head tilted like that and her eyes so calm and pleading. Exhaling, I bend down and grab the bag I packed for her. “I’ll see you when you’re finished with the X-ray.”

She nods, and Samantha pulls back the curtains and rolls Selena away. I leave the space and re-enter the main reception. Above me, navy signs hang from the ceiling with the sole purpose of guiding people in all sorts of directions. They make absolutely no sense to me, and not one sign mentions anything about a Women’s Health wing, so I just walk. I stroll down one wide hall, and then another and another until, finally, ‘Women’s Health’ is labeled at the top with an arrow to the left. Instead of following it, I duck out of the doors in front of me for a moment of fresh air.

Outside, people in robes smoke cigarettes and drink coffee. Funny. I walk as far to the right as I can, to avoid the stench of nicotine. I used to smoke, but I can’t stand it anymore.

I lean against a concrete column and pull my phone from my pocket. I’ve got twelve missed calls from Olivia, four from Seth, and a single missed call from Amelia. I clear the log, removing all the information from my screen. In my hand, my phone buzzes again, Olivia’s name big and bold on the screen. I can’t ignore her, can I? She’s Selena’s best friend after all.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Jackson. Thank God!” She takes a moment to breath. “Are you and Selena at the hospital?”

“Yeah. They’re x-raying her now and then she’s going to go in for surgery.”

“I am so, so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in, not wanting to talk this out right now. Not with Olivia, anyway.

“What time are visiting hours, do you know?”

“I’m not sure and…” I lick my lips. “I don’t think Selena wants visitors at the moment.”

The line goes silent and I cringe. “Oh, okay.”

“She just needs a little space. That’s all.”

“Of course. Of course. Can you please let her know I called? And that she can call me any time?”

I grimace at the heavy note of disappointment in her tone. Upsetting Olivia has always been equivalent to disappointing a puppy. She gets this confused glint in her eyes that makes you feel like a terrible human being. Seth can’t stand it because once she pulls it out, it’s end game for him.

“Sure thing.”

“Bye, Jackson.”

The second she hangs up my phone vibrates in my palm and the name that flashes across my screen is one I feel less inclined to answer. Amelia. What does she want? I let it ring out and then clear the missed call from my screen. The next time—and hopefully, the last time—I see her will be at the fight in a few days’ time.

I slip my phone into my pocket and look out into the parking lot. I should be training. I should be keeping my body nice and loose for this upcoming fight, but here I am, standing around a hospital waiting for tissue to be sucked out of my fiancée’s womb instead. I don’t mean that insensitively. There’s no place I’d rather be than by Selena’s side as support, but I need to win this fight…now more than ever. When I do, I’m going to take Selena away somewhere and we’re going to have fun and create new memories—memories that make all the bad ones feel like they were meant to be in order for us to find ourselves. A fresh start in the Caribbean somewhere or in a city bigger and better than the one we live in, I don’t care where.

Maybe I can convince her to have the wedding ceremony in another country, just the two of us.

That would be nice.

Selena

I get through the X-ray fairly quickly, to my surprise, and the tumor hasn’t breached my uterus yet, thank God. The whole time I was in the room I kept thinking about Jackson and how I wish he was holding my hand through the whole thing. I took solace in the fact that he wasn’t too far away and that soon I was going to see him again. I wonder if Seth told Olivia yet. I left my phone at home on purpose so I don’t have to listen to any pity calls. It’s not that I don’t—or won’t—appreciate it. I just want to do this with Jackson and not feel like I should keep myself in semi-high spirits in fear of making someone else uncomfortable.

I shift on my bed, my attention flicking to the door as two nurses walk past. It’s been twenty minutes since a nurse told me she’d let Jackson know what room I’m in. Either she got sidetracked, or he wasn’t in the waiting room. My stomach growls with hunger and aches because it’s empty, but I’m not allowed to eat until after my procedure. I don’t know when it is, but there’s a fasting rule, apparently.

I close my eyes for a moment to forget I’m in a hospital. I imagine myself resting on the day bed in my father’s backyard. It was my favorite spot as a teenager. It’s where Olivia and I spent most of our summers, complaining about boys.

“She’s right in here.”

I open my eyes as Jackson walks his tall, wide frame through the door, my backpack hanging from one shoulder. He smiles at me and it’s a genuine smile, one that makes all of my insides feel light and happy for the first time in a while.

“Did the doctor speak to you about the procedure?” the nurse asks me and my stomach fills with rocks. “Sort of.”

The nurse tucks her black bob behind one ear. “It’s called a D & C, all right? Basically, they’re going to dilate your cervix and then suction out the contents of your uterus. You’ll bleed after your procedure and experience some mild-to-moderate cramping, but it’s usually nothing more than what you’re used to when you get your period.”

I frown. No slicing and dicing? “And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Oh. It sounds so simple…my lower lip quivers as my lungs shrink in size. It’s strange how something so life changing can be gone in the blink of an eye. She moves toward the end of the bed and grabs the clipboard. “There’s a waiver you need to sign, however, that acknowledges that you are aware of the risks associated with the procedure.”

“Risks?”

She unhooks the clipboard and flicks over a few sheets before reaching over and handing it to me. I feel Jackson slip in beside me as I read the waiver. Apparently, if they scratch my uterus up, there’s a chance I won’t be able to have any more children. He touches the small of my back and I tighten involuntarily under his touch. What are the chances of that happening? Does my surgeon have steady hands? I have so many questions, but I get the feeling I don’t have any other choice.

“There’s also a consent form for us to send your placenta to the research team for further testing.”

How morbid. With shaky hands, I sign all of the sheets she wants me to sign without protest. What’s the point? I just want to be done with this. When the nurse leaves, I roll onto my side to look at Jackson, who settles in the recliner beside the bed. “They’re going to be careful though, right?”

“Of course, they are,” he says with absolute certainty. “They just need to cover their asses, that’s all.”

Yeah. That’s all.

“Olivia called. She wanted to come see you, but I told her no. If you want me to call her back—”

“No.” I hold out my hand and touch his jean-clad knee. “Thank you. I’d rather not see her until after my procedure.”

Relief touches his features and he relaxes his shoulders. I close my eyes. Everything is in motion. By tomorrow lunch time, this will all be over and I can focus on healing.

This couldn’t have come at a worse time. With Jackson’s fight fast approaching, he can’t afford to lose, and this has to be the mother of all distractions.

“Where’s the first place you want to go?” I ask him, my eyes still closed. “When you win?”

“I don’t care as long as you’re with me.” Jackson drags a finger across my engagement ring and back. “Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere hot.” I look at him. “Somewhere we can swim naked all day and drink cocktails all night.”

“There are lots of tropical islands about, Selena.” Jackson’s eyes flare wickedly. “That doesn’t really narrow it down.”

I shrug. “Barbados, Bora Bora, Seychelles, Costa Rica, the Gold Coast. Pick one.”

“Why pick just one? Let’s do them all.”

“That’s a lot of money…”

“We’ll have a lot of money.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And we deserve it, don’t we?”

“Do you think we deserve it? I mean, other people have suffered through worse relationships than ours, through harder situations too.”

“Fuck that.” He leans back, grinning wildly. “We deserve it all. The white beaches, cocktails, tourist t-shirts, and the nudity.”

I don’t feel like I deserve it. I haven’t taken anything seriously my whole life. Not school, not work, not anything. I’ve always seen life as one giant holiday, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. I’m in debt from courses I’ve started and not finished. The only experience I have under my belt is working for my father. Selena Graham, receptionist. That’s all I have. Scratch that. I don’t even have that anymore since my father refuses to talk to me until I leave Jackson, and that’s not going to happen any time soon. I know Jackson and I may not have the best relationship—or the healthiest—but who does? Even Seth and Olivia have their issues. I mean, Seth’s protectiveness of Olivia is borderline psychotic…I guess Jackson’s can be sometimes too. Still, I’d give up a perfect, TV soap romance for what Jackson and I have any day.

Chapter Twelve

Jackson

Even late into the night Selena doesn’t sleep. She says she’s fine, but I see the apprehension in her sad stare. Her stomach growls loudly, but she isn’t allowed to eat because the surgery requires her to fast. I’m hungry too, but I don’t dare bring it up or complain.

At nine p.m., the nurse tells me I have to leave. I refuse, obviously, and it only buys me another fifteen minutes with Selena before the nurse returns with reinforcements of the rent-a-cop kind. Reluctantly, I kiss Selena on the head and promise I’ll be back first thing in the morning…which brings me to now.

I pull up outside Selena’s house, my wide stare not leaving the red Porsche in front of me. I wouldn’t have looked twice at it if it weren’t for the personalized number plate that read: AM3LIA. My stomach drops to make room for my heart as it slams against my ribs. I don’t turn my car off. Instead, I put it in reverse. I can’t deal with her shit right now. I can’t look her in the face and tell her about Selena. I can feel the smug relief on her features that I’m not having a baby creep across my skin now.

I’m about to leave when Selena’s bedroom light flicks on, lighting up an otherwise dark and quiet house. I press my foot to the brake and shut off my lights. What the hell is she doing inside the damn house? I turn my car off and shove open the door. How did she get in? I slam it shut and storm right up to Selena’s front door.

I burst through it, my voice unrecognizable as I shout her name. The strain burns my throat while I stand in the front hall, not daring to walk further into her trap. I wait in silence, my fist clenched at my sides, my nostrils flaring as I try to calm my racing heart.

“Amelia!” I shout again, kicking the door closed behind me.

My skin vibrates and my blood rushes around my veins.

“Patience has never been your strong suit,” she calls back, amusement lacing her tone.

I hear her heels tap along the tiles before I see her and the sound transports me back to a night Selena and I spent together months and months ago. Only the person who rounds the corner is not a naked blonde, wearing only a pair of simple black red-bottom shoes. It’s a redhead, her slender body encased in a tight white tube dress with a pair of white heels to match.

Amelia regards me curiously, her eager stare raking me from head to toe. “Hm. You’re not the innocent boy I met so long ago anymore, are you?”

No. I’m not getting into this with her right now. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugs her bare shoulders, slowing her approach. “Looking for you. Your voicemail reached its limits.”

“How did you get in?”

Amelia tilts her head to the side and her long, red hair tumbles over her shoulder. “You were there when we broke into that upscale drug store. This was a piece of cake compared to that.”

I hate how she brings up past events like they mean anything to me anymore. I turn and open the heavy door. “Get out.”

“Aw.” She pouts her perfect lips. I cringe at the thought of referring to them as ‘perfect.’ “I thought we were mature enough to have a civilized conversation…”

“You mean like last time? When you forced yourself on me?”

She simpers, like the evil bitch she is. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, because you fucking did.”

“And then you tried to kill yourself.” I point out, not wanting to get caught in her messed up web again.

Amelia rolls her eyes like attempting to take her own life wasn’t a big deal at all. “I’m known to be a little dramatic, so what?”

“Dramatic? Try psychopathic.”

“What’s the difference? I mean, really?” She saunters closer.

Tap, tap, tap go her shoes. Grabbing the handle from me, she closes the front door.

“I want you to leave.” My voice fails to come across as firm as I want it to be. Why? Because she’s so close. Her perfume chokes me and it’d be a lie if I said I don’t find her intimidating. When she’s this close, this certain, I’m thrown back years and it’s threatening.

“I’m not leaving until we have the discussion I’ve been wanting to have with you all day.” Amelia turns away, flicking her red hair over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s work related.”

I slide my teeth together. I should leave. I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t leave her alone in Selena’s house. God knows what she will get up to. Despite my better judgement, despite all of the alarm bells going off in my head, I follow her down Selena’s main hall and into her sitting room. I lean against the wall closest to the exit while Amelia lowers herself into an armchair. She sits on the edge and crosses one thin leg over the other. “Sorry to hear about Selena.”

I flinch. Firstly, the tone of her voice doesn’t imply that she’s sorry at all, and secondly, how the hell does she even know?

“Where did you hear—”

“Seth and Olivia talk about a lot of problems openly in the gym. You’d be surprised what juicy gossip you hear on your afternoon jog.”

I bite my tongue. I’m not going to talk about this with her. Not now. Not ever. “You said you wanted to talk about work,” I snap, folding my arms across my chest.

“I can’t lead up to it?”

“You can’t talk about that with me. It has nothing to do with you.”

She thins her eyes. “I’m trying to be supportive.”

Supportive? Now? Where was her support when I truly needed it? When I was standing on the edge of a cliff spitting bourbon into the ocean, contemplating throwing myself into the dark depths below? Where was she? She was fucking a biker for drugs. How’s that for support.

“I don’t need your support.” Anger builds in my blood, simmering like water in a pot on the stove. “I thought I made it clear to you, but I guess I haven’t.” I step forward. “I hate you. In fact, I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you.”

Her eyes flare with delight. “If you need someone to take your anger out on—”

“—I’m not fucking around, Amelia.” I push off the wall and pace. “I’m not playing games with you. If I didn’t have plans to leave this shithole behind, I would kill you.”

My flesh crawls. No one can get under my skin like she can.

No one.

Exhaling, Amelia rests her elbow on the arm rest.

“Fine. Business. Are you ready for the fight?” she asks, changing the subject before I finally snap and follow through with my threat.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re distracted.”

Wow. That’s some real psychic shit right there. Not. “Of course, I’m distracted. My fiancée is in the hospital about to have a bunch of cells that was supposed to be my baby sucked out of her.”

I push my fingers through my hair. I shouldn’t be here. Not with Amelia. Not by myself. I should be in the hospital with Selena.

“Your fiancée?”

I stop pacing and look at Amelia. Her face shows no emotion…and that scares the hell out of me. It shouldn’t, but it does.

“I asked Selena to marry me. She said yes.”

Amelia lifts herself off the armchair and my entire body tightens. “I still have your grandmother’s ring that you proposed to me with.”

I cringe, my stomach hurling as I recall that night. She took that ring and laughed in my face. I thought I forced it from memory, but here it is. She broke my heart that night…for the one millionth time. My grandmother gave it to me on her deathbed and told me to give it to a girl who was worthy of it. If she knew I’d given it to Amelia, she’d never forgive me.

“You said you sold it.”

“Of course I didn’t sell it.” She reaches into her dress and plucks the old ruby and gold ring from below her sweetheart neckline. “I kept it all this time.”

Pinching it between her fingers, she slips it onto her finger. Heat prickles up the back of my neck and burns my ears. I know she’s fishing for a reaction from me, but she’s not going to get one. That ring is dead to me. It holds too many painful memories. To take it back and then put it on Selena’s finger would be too disrespectful. I’d rather I never see it again or the finger it’s currently attached to.

“Maybe what happened with Selena, her pregnancy, is meant to be…” Amelia slips closer, her chest almost grazing mine.

A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow it down. Meant to be?

“How can you say that?” I ask, my voice quiet.

“Come on, Jackie. The universe is practically begging us to get back together…” She touches me, her palms warm and flat against my chest.

“Funny you say that…” I place my hands over hers. She melts against me, her eyes flicking between my stare and my lips. “…because every time the universe puts you and me together, it only reinforces my need to get as far away from you as I possibly can.”

She cuts her eyes at me. “I think you’re afraid to admit how much you still love me.”

I tighten my fingers around hers and lift them off me. “I can assure you, it’s so very much the opposite.”

Exhaling with a growl, Amelia throws her hands up. “What do you see in Selena that is so special, huh?”

“I don’t see you. That’s the main thing.”

She turns away from me and paces forward. “Are you happy with your mediocre life? With your vanilla sex and uneventful days?”

“I’m very happy.”

“Prove it,” she demands, whirling around.

“Prove it?” I cut my eyes at her. “You can’t stand it, can you?”

“What?”

“That I am hopelessly in love with someone who treats me better than you ever did—even on her bad days.” I inch forward. “You want proof? I’ll throw this fight just to continue living my mediocre life with someone who genuinely cares about me. I don’t need you or your money to be happy.”

Amelia smirks, planting a manicured hand on her hips. She doesn’t believe me…until she does. I’m not bluffing. If proving to Amelia once and for all that I love Selena more than I ever loved her finally gets her out of my life, then so be it. I’d give it all up—our plans—everything.

“No need to be so dramatic.” She sighs, sauntering toward the hall that leads to the front door. “I only came by to make sure you’re ready for the fight. Fucking you would have been a bonus, but…maybe next time, then.”

“I’m ready for the fight,” I say, ignoring the last part.

As long as my dick is my own, I won’t be putting it anywhere near the clusterfuck that is Amelia Petrovic.

“Good, ’cause I put a lot of money on you. You win and we’re both set for life. That’s all I want.”

I simper. Some things never change. Amelia has always had an affinity for money. It’s the only thing more addictive to her than causing someone else pain.

“Money is all you ever want.”

She smiles over her shoulder. “Money is my first love.”

“And here I thought I was.”

Amelia opens the door and steps out. “You don’t know me at all, do you?”

She closes the door and I wait, staring at it until I’m certain she’s not coming back. Then, I lock it. There’s something to be said about being in Amelia’s presence. It’s the only time I can stand perfectly still and have every muscle in my body scream in pain. She sucks all of my energy out with a single bat of her eyelids.

I saunter back into the sitting room and drop onto the couch with a heavy sigh. The couch feels like a cloud underneath my tired body. It’s fucking magical.

I gather some strength before pulling my phone from my pocket and swiping the screen. In the top right corner, my battery meter flashes, alerting me that my battery level is critically low. If they can just put me through to her room so I can hear her voice once more before I sleep. I hit dial…

…and my phone dies.

Damn. Closing my eyes, I toss my phone against the carpet and sit up. I can’t sleep now. I can’t relax. I can’t wind down. I push myself onto my feet and storm down the hall with my car keys in my hand. I wonder if the tattoo joint on the corner of Smith and West is open this late?

Selena

I clench my cramping abdomen as the general anesthetic begins to wear off.

That’s it.

No more pregnancy. No more impending motherhood. No more tumor.

I shed a tear. I can’t help but feel like I’ve been transported back ten years. Suddenly, my life is back to having no meaning.

My surgery was early in the morning. They told me they’d contact Jackson to let him know when visiting hours were, but that was hours ago now. I push off my blanket and glance down at my compression socks. I hate them. They’re too tight.

Exhaling, I rub my face. I regret not bringing my phone. I would have if I knew they’d send Jackson away. So many times last night I wanted to hear his voice, but I couldn’t. I’ve never felt so alone, and what’s worse is that in here, my problem feels so small compared to what others are going through. It’s like I can’t feel sorry for myself for fear of being judged. I’m out of the woods now. What could I possibly have to complain about?

On the plus side, I’m being discharged today. I don’t know what time, but at least I don’t have to spend another night here.

“She’s right in here,” a woman’s voice floats through the doorway.

I can’t help the elation in my chest as the thought of seeing Jackson, finally, sends away some of the heavy sadness. He steps through the wide doorframe with a bouquet of roses in his hand. In the other, he holds a plain, light pink gift bag.

His skin is clean and fresh. The smell of his musky cologne meshes with my pomegranate shampoo and I fill my lungs with it. His white shirt is pressed and stain free, his jeans a nice, dark denim, and his white sneakers squeak once as he approaches my bed.

“Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” He hands me the flowers and I take them with eager hands. I press the silky petals to my face and inhale. “I called first thing in the morning, but they told me you went in for the surgery, so I went to the mall to get you a few things.”

“You didn’t have to,” I say, turning to place the roses on the table beside my bed.

I pull open the top drawer while I’m there and take my ring from its little box.

“They made me take it off before I went under.”

Jackson reaches out and plucks it from my grip. “Allow me.”

I grin, holding out my hand. He slips it on over my knuckle until it rests firmly in place. I try not to think about the zing of nerves that dance along the surface of my skin as the rough pads of his fingers touch me, but it’s overpowering.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Olivia insisted on visiting. She was at the house this morning, carrying on like a lunatic.”

Despite myself, I chuckle. “Is she outside?”

I nod. “And her flowers my make mine look…small.”

“Oh, Selena.” My attention flicks to my best friend as she rushes through the door. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I had to see you.”

Jackson steps out of the way and leans against the wall as Olivia smooths her hands down her pink blouse and tight, denim skinnys. She climbs onto my bed and wraps her arms around me. It’s nice. It’s so nice.

“How are you?” she asks, and I hear all the different kinds of sadness, disappointment, and concern in her tone.

Olivia touches my hair and my face, smoothing me out like she would Chloe.

“I’m okay,” I say, a small smile curving my lips.

And I mean it. I am okay. When I woke up after my procedure, I gained clarity. This isn’t the end of my life. I will have plenty of opportunities to hold my own bundle of joy in my arms. And these people here right now are my family. They make me feel loved and, regardless of the situation, it’s hard to feel sad in their presence.

Not a moment later, Seth squeezes through the door with a grunt and my mouth falls open.

“What did you do?” I ask, my question drowning in a surprise laugh.

“Olivia?” Seth groans. “Where am I putting all of this?”

Flowers. Teddy Bears. Chocolates. It’s like they bought out the entire gift shop. Jackson chuckles as Seth drowns in the goodies.

“Uh, put the teddies on the bed and the rest on the counter.”

It turns out, Jackson wasn’t kidding. Her giant bouquet of, well, everything, makes his look quite…understated. Seth asks Jackson for help, and he reaches out and takes the giant cream teddy at the front, plus a handful of balloon strings. Amongst all of the goodies they brought for me, one thing is notably missing.

“Where’s Chloe?” I ask, glancing over the edge of the bed.

“Oh.” Olivia props herself up on her elbow. “Seth’s mom is taking her out for breakfast.”

Seth and Olivia share a quick glance as he fills the surrounding surfaces with gifts. In five minutes, my room is transformed from cold and lonely to vibrant and warm.

“You don’t have to hide her from me,” I say. “I’m not going to burst into tears at the sight of her.”

“We know. We just weren’t sure how you’d be feeling this morning, that’s all. We didn’t want to make anything more difficult than I’m sure it already is.”

“And not to mention, dealing with Chloe in such a confined space where she can’t touch anything would be a damn nightmare.”

I nod. Fair enough, I suppose.

Seth and Jackson fall into conversation in the corner of the room while Olivia and I cuddle on the bed. We watch TV until I can no longer stand my stomach being so empty, and Olivia promptly sends the boys out for food. Our conversations are trivial in the beginning, until she touches my hand and feels the ring Jackson gave me.

“Oh my God.” She shoots up on the bed, taking my hand with her. “When did this happen?”

“Last night.”

Her eyes widen, like a kid in a candy store. “And you said?”

I laugh. “Would I be wearing it if I said no?”

“I can’t believe it!” Her eyes well. “After that dinner we had…I wasn’t sure what to think about you two.”

I shrug, taking my hand back. “We worked through it. I mean, we have a lot of things to work on, but we’re happy together, you know?”

Olivia rests back on my pillows. “What are the plans from here?”

“We want to travel,” I tell her. “Maybe Jackson will chase a new passion. Maybe I’ll finally find something that I love doing.” I clear my throat. “It all depends on whether or not he wins this fight.”

“Amelia’s fight?”

I bristle. “Yeah. That one.”

“Seth thinks it’s a good idea for Jackson to do it, but I don’t. I don’t trust that woman.”

“Neither do I, but I don’t want to be the reason Jackson spends the rest of his life slaving away and wondering ‘what if?’”

Olivia sighs. “I just hope that whatever she promised him is real.”

“Are you going to the fight?”

She shrugs. “I kind of want to, but Seth would prefer it if I didn’t.”

“Well, who’s going to keep me company if you don’t go?”

She pulls her eyebrows into a frown. “It’s tomorrow night.”

“And I’m getting discharged today.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be up for it?”

I ponder the question. At the moment, my abdomen hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. Like they said, period pain. Besides, I’m more concerned about my emotional state than I am about my physical one. How am I going to do seeing Amelia? How will I handle Jackson’s fight? What if he loses? He didn’t handle his loss too well last time. I recall him ending up at Amelia’s hotel room where she stitched his cut, let him shower, and then proceeded to throw herself at him. The pair shared a kiss—and God knows what else. The thought of seeing them in the same room together turns my stomach. I’m not much of a fighter myself, but every time I see Amelia, I want to crush her underneath the heel of my favorite pair of red bottoms.

“I’m up for it,” I tell her. “And you’re going to help me pick out an outfit.

Chapter Thirteen

Jackson

Selena is asleep in Olivia’s arms when Seth and I return with two monstrous burger meals for the girls. It doesn’t take long for Selena’s unconscious state to recognize the smell of food from the outside world and her eyes shoot open.

“That smells so good.” She groans, arching her back to stretch.

Olivia sighs, pulling her arm out from underneath Selena. “Oh, thank God. My arm is dead.”

Slipping from the bed, she waves it around the place, desperate to get the blood flowing again. Selena adjusts her bed slowly so she can sit as I place her meal down on the table with wheels and roll it toward the bed.

“Eat up,” I say, placing the cup next to the brown paper bag.

“You didn’t get anything?” she asks with an adorable frown.

“Seth and I had gluten free grilled chicken wraps with no sauce…or cheese.”

Olivia chuckles at Selena’s grimace. “Ew.”

“You’ll thank me when you’re feeling in tip-top shape tomorrow,” Seth points out, dropping into the navy recliner. He pulls Olivia onto his lap and she squeaks, dropping a single fry onto the floor. She cuts her eyes at him as he plucks a fry from her little box and bites down on it.

I glare at him.

“What? I’m not the one with the fight tomorrow.”

“Speaking of which,” Olivia chimes in. “Are you nervous?”

I shrug. “Not really.”

Except I am.

I’ve never been so fucking nervous. I’ve never needed to win a fight so badly in my life than I do tomorrow. My future has never depended on a single fight before. Losing it is not an option.

“He’ll be fine,” Seth says. “Jackson’s the second-best fighter I know.”

“Let me guess…” Olivia laughs. “You’re the best?”

He shrugs his broad shoulder with a sly grin. “The shoe fits.”

I drop onto the edge of Selena’s bed with a snort. “You’re so full of shit.”

Seth is an exceptional fighter, no doubt, but he has weaknesses, and I know them better than anyone else. Behind me, Selena eats her fries and chuckles along with the rest of us. I can’t help but look over my shoulder at her. It was a good thing to let Seth and Olivia visit her this morning. They’ve brought a spark back to her eyes.

When Seth and Olivia leave over half an hour later, a nurse enters the room. I pretend to pack and tidy the room as the plump, mature woman asks Selena about pain levels, bleeding amounts, and grief counseling. When the nurse is happy—and Selena declines the crazy strong painkillers they offer her—she gives us permission to go home. Selena changes from her hospital gown into a cute pair of gray sweatpants and a black hoodie and attempts to walk to the car. It doesn’t take long for the same nurse to cut her off and insist she park her ass in the wheelchair. Grinning, I hand her the massive teddy bear and tie the balloons to the handles of the chair.

As we walk the halls, Selena doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, even though everyone stops to stare at her little wheelchair decorated with balloons and flowers. Occasionally, she mumbles about feeling ridiculous, and the second she sees the front doors, she’s out of the wheelchair and walking on her own two feet, standing as tall as the day I met her. I roll the wheelchair off to the side and un-tie the balloons.

“I’m happy to wheel you all the way to the car,” I tell her, smiling.

“And I’m happy to walk.” She saunters closer to me. “I’ll let you hold my hand though, if you want?”

Without thought, I stuff things under my arms and take her hand in mine. Sighing, she flicks her thumb over my skin and tilts her head back as we step out into the sun. “I feel like I’ve been in there forever.”

Although it was only overnight, I feel like she’s been gone forever too. I’m not a needy guy. I’ve never been needy, not really, but it’s different with Selena. I want to be with her. Always.

I can’t wait to get her home. I haven’t slept. I’m running on half a gallon of coffee and an energy drink. If Seth knew I was so sleep deprived before the big fight, he’d insist I skip it. I figured I could catch up on sleep debt with Selena today and tonight, and be ready to kick ass tomorrow. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t try to sleep. I did.

After spending a few hours at the tattoo parlor, I ended up in her bed, surrounded by blankets and pillows that smelled like her. I thought sleep would come easy after that, but I was too busy thinking about Selena all alone in that hospital, dreading her impending surgery.

That reminds me…

We approach my truck and I unlock it. Opening the back door, I stuff all of Selena’s goodies inside, including the giant teddy bear she was holding, and hand her the small pink bag. She’s been eyeing it up since I walked in with it this morning.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

I shrug, closing the back door and opening hers. “Open it.”

Smiling her usual, beautiful smile, Selena climbs into the truck and I close the door behind her. I circle my truck and get behind the wheel.

“I’m nervous.”

I glance sideways at her as I put the key in the ignition and turn. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know what’s in here.”

“You would if you had a look.”

“Is it naughty?” A subtle pink hue swells in her cheeks and I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s a little fucked up that you think I brought sex toys as a gift for someone who underwent a surgical procedure vaginally, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know.” Selena dips her shoulders with a snort. “You have some pretty unique kinks.”

I place my hand on her seat and glance over my shoulder as I back out my parking space. “I can assure you I didn’t buy anything inappropriate.” I pause to think. Oh, wait. “Unless you consider an oversized nighty, granny panties, and a box of maxi pads inappropriate, because I did get those for you.”

“Considerate, but extremely off-putting.” She grimaces and peels open the bag. “You must be taking the piss out of me. I don’t see any of those things in here…”

“They’re at home,” I say. “What do you see in there?”

Selena reaches into the bag and removes all of the tissue paper. “It’s a locket…”

She examines it with a curious gleam in her eyes and I struggle to keep my attention on the road. Laying the glass locket across her thighs, she pulls out the little vials, each filled with a single charm. “And charms.”

“I only bought a few,” I tell her. “I figured I’d leave you space to fill your locket as we go.”

She puts the charms in her lap one by one. The boxing glove, the casino chip, the love heart, and, finally, the baby’s foot. Each charm holds sentimental value in some way. The boxing glove is for when we met at Seth’s fight. The casino chip is for all those wild, unforgettable nights we spent in Vegas. The love heart is for the very first time I told her that I loved her, and the baby’s foot…well, for obvious reasons. Selena holds the vial with the baby’s foot between her slender index finger and thumb for longer than I anticipated. I immediately regret the decision to buy it at the sight of the unease on her face. Maybe I shouldn’t have?

“I didn’t know if you’d want that in your locket…” I clear my throat. “You can use it or you can forget it. Whatever you want.”

I turn my sights out the windscreen as I exit the hospital’s parking lot.

Selena exhales and it’s heavy, as if she’s trying to prevent her throat and her voice from building up an emotional shake. “Do you consider what we had a baby? Because they tell me it wasn’t.”

Her voice cracks at the end and I cringe. The sound hurts me more than any punch ever has. I regret it. I regret ever buying the damn charm.

“You were pregnant, Selena. It didn’t turn out the way we wanted it to, but it still happened.” I squeeze my wheel in my hands, unsure if I should be saying what I want to say for the sake of her healing. “We lost our baby because a tumor grew in its stead. Sickness or not…we still lost a baby.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” She turns to look out the window in silence. Only the sounds of gentle sniffles give away the fact she’s shedding tears. “That’s how I feel too.”

Selena

We drive the rest of the way to my place without saying a word. Once, I complained about Jackson never expressing his feelings to me. Now? He’s incredible. It’s like he can open me up and read me like no one else can. The whole time I was in the hospital, they were adamant about convincing us that it wasn’t a baby, and to not even think of it as a pregnancy. On the surface, I may have believed it, but deep down, I didn’t. My body didn’t. It still grieves the sudden emptiness in my womb. I still grieve it. My uterus bleeds for the baby I thought I had. The fact it was a tumor doesn’t make the loss any less real. Does it? I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m overreacting or if the pregnancy hormones are still messing with me. What would Olivia say if I told her that the second I left the hospital my arms felt useless? That, as we exited the parking lot, I couldn’t help but feel like I left something behind? I was “pregnant” for nine weeks. It’s not long enough to know what it feels like to carry the full weight of a baby, and yet I feel twenty pounds lighter than I did yesterday.

I’m just glad Jackson sees it as a loss too. It makes me feel less…dramatic.

Once I’m inside my house, I shower until my skin becomes numb and the scalding jets of water no longer sting my flesh. When I get out, I put on the oversized nighty that Jackson actually brought for me and left hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I put on a pair of granny panties and use the sanitary items and even opt for a thin pair of sweatpants underneath.

When I exit the bathroom, Jackson is half-naked on my bed, sleeping with one hand behind his head and the other slung across his tattooed stomach. I smile to myself at the sight. I guess I wasn’t the only one who didn’t sleep last night. I tiptoe toward the bed and grab the little pink bag at the end of the mattress. In my grip, the paper crinkles loudly and Jackson’s eyes shoot open.

I grit my teeth with a cringe. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping,” he says, but his eyes are bloodshot and his lids look like they weigh a million pounds.

I place the bag higher on the bed and I climb on. “Do you want to help me put this together?”

He nods, rolling onto his side. “Of course.”

Jackson’s eyes fall closed for a few seconds before he forces them open. I pick up the glass vial with the little baby charm “If it was viable, do you think it would have been a boy or a girl?”

“A girl,” Jackson mutters. “A sassy little girl who’d give me as much grief as her mother.”

I chuckle to myself as I pop open the vial and place the charm in the locket. “I do love it. Thank you.”

No response. I peer sideways at a sleeping Jackson and smile as his lips part ever so slightly.

“I love you.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jackson

Fight night

Thick tendrils of adrenaline burrow their way through my chest as I bounce on the tips of my toes. I’m here in this…this shithole of a place about to fight the biggest fight of my life. I imagined my retiring fight to be in a grand sold-out arena. Instead, it’s in an abandoned warehouse by a mediocre fucking bridge, the crowd consisting of crack addicts, gamblers, thugs, and criminals. I regret inviting Selena and, judging by the glare Seth is sending my way from across the room, he hates me for allowing Selena to bring Olivia. Olivia wanted to come, but Seth refused, so she called Selena instead. I’m not gonna lie. I’ve fought in dirtier places than this. I mean, at least I have my own change room.

Excitement heats my blood and enrages my nerves, filling me with a high I can’t get anywhere else. I push my wrapped hand through my hair and turn away from Darryl, who has spent the last thirty minutes warming me up.

“You’re distracted,” Darryl snaps, whipping off his cap and tossing it across the room.

“Have you heard from Selena?” I ask both of them, storming to the metal door.

“She’s fine,” Darryl says, picking up his hand pads. “She’ll be back any minute now.”

“Provided she didn’t get kidnapped on her way out,” Seth adds, bending his leg at the knee as he leans against the filthy wall.

I whirl on my heel and cut my eyes at him. I’m not worried about Selena getting kidnapped—God knows there’s enough security here, I’m worried about her running into Amelia. I begin to pace back and forth, ignoring Daryl, who insists I keep my heart rate up. I can only imagine the sick, twisted shit Amelia would say to Selena.

“What’d you say happened to your leg again?” Darryl asks and I glance down at the bandage wrapped around my thigh.

“I hurt it doing yard work yesterday.” I shrug. “It’s nothing.”

“I thought you said you hurt it in the kitchen?” Seth asks, cocking his eyebrow in that accusing way that I hate so much.

“Does it matter?”

I lied to the both of them. I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture about getting a tattoo a day before a fight—and trust me, it would have been a long one—so I came up with a different story. Besides, I figured if I keep the fight standing and keep him at a distance, then it should be fine. Lucky for me, Connor Cage prefers to go toe to toe anyway.

“If it’s not going to affect your fight, then it doesn’t matter, but that bandage is a massive target. He’s gonna hit you there.”

I pull my shoulders in and roll my neck. “So?”

“So, do you have any skins you can wear?”

“I might have something in my—”

The heavy metal door cuts me off with a loud clank before it opens. My heart leaps into my throat—in excitement and fear—only for it to sink into the soles of my feet a moment later when a fair-skinned redhead enters my private space. I try not to look at her, but it’s impossible when her short, tight red dress clings to her curves and dips incredibly low between her breasts.

“There he is,” she purrs, placing one stiletto clad foot in front of the other. “The man of the hour.”

Closing the door behind her, Amelia zeros her black, volcanic stare on Seth.

“My, my…Seth Marc.”

Seth grunts his displeasure at seeing her.

“You look better and better every time I see you.”

“I wish I could say the same…” He folds his arms across his chest. “Unfortunately, your face still makes me physically ill.”

She grins, exposing her perfect, blindingly white teeth. “Charming. As always.” Amelia ignores Darryl altogether as she crosses over to me. “I thought I’d come and check on you…see how you’re feeling.”

I flex my fingers. “You don’t care how I’m feeling.”

“Oh. You got me.” Her perfectly manicured brows draw together. “I want to know if you think you’re going to win.”

That’s more like her. “I’ll win.”

She rakes me from head to toe, and the way her stare slides over every inch of me makes me uncomfortable. “What happened to your leg?”

“Backyard—” Darryl says.

“—Kitchen,” Seth adds at the same time.

“It’s none of your business.” I scowl at them before turning it on Amelia. “My leg is fine.”

“It better be.” She moves closer, her perfume engulfing me. “Or neither of your legs will be if you cost me this money.”

I tilt my head, unable to keep the smirk from my lips. “Did you just threaten me?”

“Lose…and you’ll find out.”

The door handle shakes, then clanks, but Amelia doesn’t back off. Neither do I. She seriously doesn’t expect me to take the threat seriously, does she?

“I almost want to throw the fight out of curiosity.”

“Don’t,” she snaps in a whisper, her angry eyes turning soft and pleading. “He’ll hurt us both.”

The door opens with a final clank and I take a step back, not wanting Selena to see us this close. Only the person who enters the room isn’t Selena. Or Olivia. I recognize the man in the well-fitted suit immediately. Cedric Barnes, the casino owner, and the man who made this fight possible. In fact, I do believe he’s putting up the funds for the winner too.

“Darling? Are you done?” His British accent is thick and proper. “The sooner we can get out of here the better.”

“I’m done.” She straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I was just making sure Mr. Quinn knows how important it is for you that Connor Cage loses this fight.”

The gray-haired Brit nods his head as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“Why is it important to you? It’s a lot of money you’re paying me to win,” I say. “What’d the other guy do?”

He narrows his pale, blue eyes at me. “What Connor Cage did to me is none of your business.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” He takes Amelia by the elbow and nudges her toward the door. “And this is the last time my wife will be behind a closed door with men by the likes of you.”

My eyes go wide. What? “Wife?”

“She neglected to mention that, did she?” He plants a firm hand on her lower back. “Ironic, considering it’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.”

Stepping out of my room, they leave and I glance at Seth. “She’s married?”

“I know, right?” He scratches his head. “Firstly, how’d she get a guy as powerful as Cedric Barnes, and secondly, who in their right mind would want to pair up with that psycho for the rest of their life?”

He’s right, of course, but I know damn well he’s not blind. Amelia’s personality makes her the ugliest woman alive, but that aside, it’s impossible to look past her beauty. That’s how she lures in her victims…with her perfect, plump lips and porcelain skin. It’s almost a shame all that beauty is wasted on such a poisonous soul.

In the next heartbeat, the door swings open and in enters Selena and Olivia. Finally.

Seth pushes off the wall and immediately swallows the distance between him and Olivia. For once, his shoulders are square, and his angry glare is narrowed in on her and not me. They argue in hushed tones as Darryl gives up his cause of keeping me warmed up. He dumps his hand pads and drops himself onto a dodgy stool. Ignoring everyone, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and keeps himself busy.

“It’s almost time.” Selena startles me from the left. I didn’t notice her approach.

I turn to face her. “Is it?”

Tonight, she looks infinitely beautiful with minimal makeup, and her waves and curls straightened out. Her blonde locks blend well against her low-cut sweater that showcases a very, very nice portion of her rounded breasts. Pushing locks of hair behind her ear, Selena leans close.

“I saw Amelia out in the hall.”

Guilt wraps around my stomach at the mention of her name. I don’t know why. “Yeah. She came to see me…with her husband in tow.”

Her eyes widen. “The guy in the suit? That’s her husband?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, he is not happy with her. He had her in this tight, bruising grip as he growled awful things in her ear.” She frowns. “And not in a kinky way.”

“It’s not our problem.”

“Jackson—”

“What is it?” She flinches at my aggressive tone. I don’t mean to be blunt or rude, but what does she want me to do? “Who cares what her husband is doing to her? That’s her problem.”

Agitation builds up under my ribs, giving me chest pain. What does she want me to do? Why does she want me to get involved? Doesn’t she know by now that woman is bad fucking news? Why does Amelia’s safety and her dignity finally matter to Selena who—let’s be honest—couldn’t care less if Amelia jumped off a damn bridge?

“She looked genuinely worried…and he’s a lot bigger than her.”

I drop my head back with an exhale. “What do you want me to do? He’s running this whole show, Selena. I piss him off and we don’t get paid.”

Or worse, given Amelia’s threat.

Golden rivers of honey flare in the deep depths of Selena’s eyes.

“I don’t want to help her,” she snaps. “But…I want to help her.”

I blink. “Do you hear yourself sometimes?”

She rolls her eyes and tries to turn away from me, but I snag her by her soft sweater. She gasps as I tug her hard against my damp body.

“Amelia is smart,” I tell her. It fucking kills me to say it, but it’s true. “She wouldn’t be in a situation she doesn’t want to be in. Trust me. Everything she says and does is orchestrated to coincide with a foolproof plan. Amelia doesn’t need our help. Believe me.”

Selena swallows and nods. “Okay.” With light fingers, she touches my chest. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay out there?”

I chuckle under my breath. “I’ll be fine.”

“Even with your leg?”

“Even with my leg.”

I can’t wait until after the fight and I can show her what I did. Once, a long time ago, I noticed her admiring this particular tattoo of mine. The spiders in the web that I’d gotten when I was with Amelia. Selena has examined all of my tattoos, but this one she lingers on a lot longer than the others, and I know she knows it symbolizes my time with the coldest, cruelest woman on the planet. Late last night, I had Johnny at the tattoo parlor replace the webbing with red roses and tattoo Selena’s name across the center. Hooked around the letter ‘a’ is a design of the same ring I gave her when I asked her to marry me. The tattoo looks incredible, better than I imagined. I can’t explain how it made me feel when it was done…finally, a horrible, draining period of my life was instantly replaced with something that fills me with love and hope.

Selena

There’s a kind sort of smile to his eyes more often these days. I used to think his troubled frown was the most beautiful thing on his face, but it’s nothing compared to one of his genuine smiles. Those knock the air out of me.

“Almost time,” Darryl shouts from his stool. “You wanna hope you’re ready, boy.”

Jackson shakes his hands and rolls his shoulders. “I am.”

Sweat glistens on his body, even in the poor light, and the dust that rains down from the ceiling coats him in a fine shimmer. I’d hug him if I weren’t so worried about ruining one of my favorite sweaters.

“All right,” Seth announces, storming over to us. On his way, he scoops up Darryl’s pads. “We’ve got eleven minutes.”

I shuffle out of the way as Seth slips into the pads and holds them up for Jackson. The loud slaps ring out as his fists connect over and over and over, sometimes in groups of five or six.

“I don’t miss this,” Olivia groans beside me. “Aren’t you anxious?”

I glance at her as she chews at her thumbnail. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun on the top of her head and her body is draped in a nice, casual white tee with a cute pair of denim cutoffs to match.

“Of course, I’m anxious,” I tell her. “But I applied this cute ruby polish before we left and I don’t want to chew it off.”

She lowers her hands and smiles a full wide smile at me. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her shorts, she opens her mouth to speak, only the door flies open and in rushes a group of people, shouting and demanding Jackson head toward the ring. I get lost in the fray. My heart thunders in my throat as I stand on the tips of my toes, desperate to see him.

“Selena?” I hear him call my name over the noise.

Olivia tugs me backward by my shirt as the plume of frantic humans rush everyone toward the door. What’s the hurry? I don’t understand.

“Holy shit,” Olivia gasps, pulling us both back against the far wall, toward Darryl. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Selena?” I see Jackson’s wrapped hand shoot up, and then his face as he pops his head outside of the crowd that swarms him. He grins when he spots me. “Where do you want to get married?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. What? I’m so damn confused.

“Where do you want to get married?” he shouts again, the first half of the crowd disappearing out the door. “How about Tahiti? Are the beaches white enough for you there?”

And then he’s gone…sucked out of the room like debris from a compromised airplane. All I can do is gape, wide eyed, like a fucking goldfish. Tahiti? Why is he thinking about places to get married when we’re on the precipice of his very last fight? It’s madness.

“Tahiti is nice,” Olivia says, smiling slyly. “I can see myself relax—I mean, I can see you getting married there.”

I roll my eyes with a snort.

“I’m getting too old for this shit.” Darryl exhales, slipping his phone into his pocket as he pushes off his stool. “Let’s go before we miss it.”

As he saunters past, he holds his elbows out for Olivia and I to take. We do, and he escorts us out of the quiet room and into a bustling hall. Thankfully, most of the fracas is ahead of us, moving rapidly toward the center of this entire exhibition. The corridor is just as run down as the rooms. The abandoned warehouse that encases us has obviously been out of commission for a long time but still they’re able to rig up the lighting and keep it standing long enough for this death trap to fill with people.

Darryl squeezes us through an unrelenting crowd, their screams and cheers become more deafening the deeper we go. Booze spills all over me. Whatever it is wets my hair and runs down my spine, but I force myself to keep going. I ignore the elbows to the ribs and my toes as they’re crushed underneath heavy boots and sharp heels. All I want is to get to the front and see Jackson. There, I know I’m safe.

Out of nowhere, Seth appears, his worried gaze locating Olivia, and then softening with relief. We join him at the edge of the cage and he squeezes into the space behind us, blocking the crowd from pushing us around. I hear Olivia mention that we’re big girls who can take care of ourselves and it’s met with a rich laugh. I don’t think he cares.

I focus on Jackson in the cage, who paces back and forth, waiting for his opponent. Seeing him up there sends my heart pounding like nothing else. The way the lighting hits every rise and depression of his body…he looks like a god. A masterpiece.

My complete admiration of Jackson’s athletic physique is cut short as Connor Cage rushes into the dirty fighting space. I gasp. Connor Cage is everything I was hoping he wouldn’t be. Tall, wide, and absolutely terrifying.

Jackson is tall, easily six-something, but Connor has him beat by a whole foot, and not only is he built like a damn skyscraper, but the width of his body is incredible too. Rolling his thick neck, Cage cracks his knuckles and shakes out his trunk-like arms. He shouts something, something I don’t hear, but Jackson does, and he passes it off with a smirk.

Seconds pass, but they’re not normal seconds. No. They’re long, nasty seconds that grind my nerves up. I hold my breath as the two fighters watch each other. There’s a chill on my spine I can’t explain when I look at Cage. I’ve never doubted Jackson’s strength or his ability to beat anyone that is stupid enough to fight him, but…I’m not sure how this fight is going to go.

I peer over my shoulder at Seth. “What do you think?”

He cranes his neck, lending me his ear. “Hm?”

“What do you think?” I repeat, enunciating every word.

“He’s got it,” Seth simply states in my ear. “Don’t worry.”

Olivia rubs the small of my back as I turn my attention to the cage. If Jackson feels any kind of fear, he’s certainly not showing it.

The cage creaks and groans under the added weight of Connor’s body and I hold my breath, expecting it to give away. I’m not sure why the police aren’t here yet, shutting this whole thing down. This flimsy deathtrap of a warehouse is packed way over capacity and the slightest thump is going to send it crashing on top of us. Spotting me to his left, Jackson jogs over to the edge of the rusty cage and grips the metal in his fingers as he crouches low.

The dusky lights above makes the sweat on his body glisten, and I watch as dust occasionally drifts and settles on the surface of his skin.

“Tahiti, yeah?” Tiny, golden rivers of honey in his irises flare with excitement as he beams down at me.

“Tahiti?” Darryl snaps. “Why don’t you focus on winning the fight before you plan a wedding you won’t be able to afford if you lose?”

Jackson smirks, not taking his eyes off me. “I’m not gonna lose.”

“Why Tahiti?” I shout, reaching out to touch the cage.

Underneath my soft hands, I feel the rough dirt and dry rust flake off. People scream at Jackson, some begging he destroy Connor, others graphically depicting how Connor is going to destroy him. There’s a few women in this crowd too. I can hear them not too far away, demanding he do things to them that I’d prefer he only do to me.

“I was looking online and it’s got your name written all over it,” he simply says, the playful quirk of his lips never leaving his face.

I don’t care where we go as long as we’re together. He could take me to a motel on the other side of town and I’d be happy. Jackson places a covered hand over mine.

“Okay. Tahiti it is.” I smile at him. “Now, will you win this fight for me? Because I’m in serious need of a shower.”

“Anything you want.” With a quick stroke of my fingers, he straightens his posture and returns to his position on the mat.

Jackson bounces on the balls of his feet, his stare never straying from his opponent, and the cage shudders and shakes under his weight. The dirty, white fabric he’s covered his hands in is tight, squeezing his fingers as he flexes them at his sides.

The crowd is a constant noise in the background, the same lot of people cheering for him to win, cheering for him to fail. You’d think after they said it the first time, they’d give up, but no. They scream in my ears until their voices crack and fail, and even that doesn’t stop them. I used to relish in this kind of thing, this kind of crowd, but not anymore. Back then, I never understood why Olivia had such an issue with the fighting, she could barely stomach it. It wasn’t until it was Jackson standing inside the metal cage that I understood the unease. I can’t help it. My body absorbs each and every shout for him. Every negative comment fills me with anger and a need to defend the person I love. I used to enjoy watching Seth deal out his punishment and then take it on the chin, but it’s different with Jackson. Every punch that hits him, hits me too. I feel my stomach twist and churn as it fills with anxiety and threatens to explode. If he wins, his happiness means I win, but if he loses, well, it’ll hurt me too.

A man dressed head to toe in black, the referee I assume, enters the cage and Jackson puts his mouthguard in. My lips part as a shaky breath blows through and I press a hand to my abdomen as cramps assault my uterus. When this is over, I’m going to need a strong drink, some painkillers, and a heat pack.

The referee chats to both Jackson and Connor before slapping his hands together, signaling the start of the fight. The men move together and I’m jolted forward, my hips hitting a thin bar.

“Fuck,” Olivia curses, turning to shout in my ear. “It’s insane in here.”

Jackson and Connor move to the center of the canvas, their feet going back and forth, their arms becoming animated as they test the water, wondering who will take the first shot to kick this thing off. My heart leaps into my throat and I grip the railing in front of me as Connor strikes first. Jackson evades it and Connor throws another, the thick ropes of muscle in his arms tightening. I can see the glint in Jackson’s eyes as he gauges each and every one of Connor’s attacks. Dodging the third fist, Jackson dips low and slams his fist into Connor’s ribs. I gasp as everything in proximity of the impact ripples like a stone thrown into a river. Connor brings his arms down, leaving his head exposed. Jackson straightens his posture and drives his heavy fists into Connor’s face. In defense, he takes a couple of quick steps back, but Jackson follows, quick on his legs, despite his apparent thigh injury. The crowd roars in approval—in disapproval too—sending a surge of electricity through my veins.

I move my hands from the thin railing in front of me, to the cage. The threats of contracting tetanus or hepatitis are no longer at the forefront of my mind as the cage shudders and the canvas creaks with every movement. I just want him to win so we can go.

I’ve seen Jackson train more times than I can count. When training, he has this air of indifference about him. He doesn’t care about technique or time, but tonight, he’s taking it all very seriously. Blocking an incoming punch to his chin, Connor kicks Jackson in the thigh and I hear him hiss as he takes a few rapid steps back, giving Connor space to take a breather.

“I told him about wearing that damn bandage!” Darryl snaps, turning to Seth. “Didn’t I tell him about that damn bandage?”

“It’s all right,” Seth responds, squeezing beside Olivia to get closer to the cage. “He’s aware of it now. He won’t let it happen again.”

Connor comes in quick, his wide chest heaving at the same pace as Jackson’s. He throws his arms with controlled precision and all Jackson can do is defend against it. I see his jaw clench tightly as he keeps his face down, desperate not to get clipped by Connor’s monstrous fists.

“Jackson!” Seth booms, slamming a large hand against the cage. “Do not get caught by those hands! Get out of there!”

I chew the tips of my fingernails and taste rusted metal. I don’t like the sound of Seth’s voice. It sounds as if Jackson will lose if he doesn’t get back on the offensive.

“Keep him on his side of the canvas! Get off the back foot!”

Beside me, Olivia threads her fingers with mine and squeezes tightly. I turn to look at her and she can’t keep her eyes off the scene unfolding in front of us. In the split-second I look at Olivia, the fight has turned once again, the roar of the crowd alerting me. I turn my attention to Jackson, who has Connor on his back. I inch forward, pressing myself into the railing until it hurts. Jackson pins Connor down, his thighs straddling his slim hips. Connor is desperate to protect his face from Jackson, but Jackson manages to break through, hitting Connor until his dirty, white fabric wraps are stained red. Tiny dots of blood paint both their chests as something on Connor’s face opens up.

Seth and Darryl mimic the rest of the crowd, their faces turning red as they scream at Jackson to keep going. Connor’s hands fall away, his body becoming stiff. I cringe. Veins in Jackson’s arms become visible as he clenches with all his might. My gut revolts and I turn my head away from the fight. Across the floor and up on a small ledge, Amelia’s red hair catches my attention as it shines in the bright light of the spotlight beside her. She watches on in horror—much to my surprise, since I thought she wanted Jackson to win.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of flesh smashing into flesh reverberates around my head, but I keep my attention on her and the way she holds herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach as her “husband” texts on his phone. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s almost as if she’s not enjoying the fact Jackson is winning.

“Enough!” I hear the referee shout and I finally pull my stare toward the action.

Jackson spits out his mouthguard on the canvas and launches himself to his feet. He shoots his arms up with a roar of victory and the crowd goes wild. My heart swells in my chest. I can’t believe he did it. Olivia jumps up and down beside me, her excited grip crushing my hand. I barely have time to take in the scene before I’m whisked through the crowd by Darryl and Seth and we end up back in Jackson’s room.

The ruckus outside can be heard through the thin walls and I scratch at the back of my head, aware of the headache brewing. We wait for all of twenty minutes before the door opens and Jackson rushes in. He spots Seth and Olivia relaxing against the far wall, making gentle conversation with Darryl about Connor Cage’s pathetic performance.

“You’re still here?” Jackson asks them, panting as he shuts the door behind him. “I’d get out before the police come.”

“Good idea.” Seth pushes off the wall and dusts off his red shirt.

“We have to pick Chloe up early in the morning, so we should get some rest,” Olivia adds, slipping her hand into Seth’s as Darryl lifts himself off the stool.

“I rode with Seth, so I guess I’ll go back with them too.”

I watch from my spot by the table in the middle of the room as Seth, Olivia, and Darryl offer Jackson handshakes and pats on the back before exiting into the fray outside.

Gone are the days we used to party after a fight. I think we’re all too old for that now. The thought of having a hot shower and climbing into a comfortable bed is infinitely more appealing.

I smile at a blood-splattered Jackson as he stands six feet from me, his wrapped hands planted firmly on his hips.

“I won,” he simply says and my smile widens.

I push off the table and rush forward, throwing my arms around his neck and jumping into his arms the second I enter his personal space. His sweat clings to me, so does blood that belongs to another man, but I don’t care. I kiss him deeply, deeper than I think I’ve ever kissed him.

“Let’s go home,” he utters against my mouth. “We’ll stay in bed for a few days, until the money is transferred, and then we plan the rest of our lives.”

I nod, sliding my forehead against his as I touch his face. Jackson lowers me to my feet and rushes across the room to his large, black sports bag on the other side. I can barely stand still as he stuffs all of his things inside, including two heavy training pads. From the bag’s depths, he retrieves a black hoodie and shrugs into it. He barely drags the zipper up when the door opens again. I glance over my shoulder at the man that enters the room.

Connor Cage.

Chapter Fifteen

Jackson

He’s almost unrecognizable with his bloodied, swollen face and his monstrous frame hidden behind a baggy hoodie. As he saunters into the room, I become hyper aware of the distance between Selena and I. She’s closer to him than she is to me. Sensing the distance, Selena takes a few small steps backward as he pulls his shoulders back and slams the door behind him.

I drop my bag at my feet. “Selena, come here.”

She does as she’s told, and my nerves become less frazzled as she slowly closes the distance between us. Normally, I wouldn’t care so much, but Connor does not look friendly. Not at all.

“Relax,” he groans out, limping further into the room. “I just need some topical for the bleeding, if you have it.”

I do have it. In fact, Darryl doesn’t leave the house without it. Question is, why should I help him? I’m the one who did this to him, after all. I frown and open my mouth to tell him to get the fuck out, but Selena glances up at me, her glossy eyes wide with concern.

“Jackson…” she mutters, tilting her head on an angle, like she did that time we saw a puppy in a cage at the pet store. “He needs help.”

Fine. Exhaling, I bend low and unzip my bag. I dig around for a minute before finding the small box Darryl packed at the bottom. He’ll find everything he needs to stop the bleeding in here.

“I guess you need it more than me,” I say, tossing the box at him.

He catches it with a sharp hiss and one hand. When he has it, I expect him to leave. Instead, he props himself up on the table in the middle of the room and pops open the latch on the box. He stares inside the box for a minute or so before turning his swollen face back to us. Jesus. The look of it makes me want to throw up.

“I can’t see,” he grumbles.

I shrug. “That’s a shame.”

He flicks his head to Selena. “Do you mind if she does it?”

Over my dead body. She steps forward and I snatch her wrist, keeping her in place. I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him.

“Not gonna hurt her.”

“I just cost you a lot of money,” I tell him. “You’re stupid if you think I’m gonna let—”

“You didn’t cost me a thing.” He clenches his ribs in one hand as he plucks out a cotton swab and a small vial with the other. “It was never in the cards for me to win. I wasn’t gonna get paid, even if I did.”

In my grasp, I feel Selena’s tiny wrist move as she watches Connor struggle.

“I had to lose,” he adds. “That was part of the deal.”

“Bullshit,” I snap. “You didn’t throw the fight. I won fair and square.”

“Please.” He spits blood onto the dirty floor. “I’ve fought dudes twice the size of you and won.”

“Size doesn’t matter.”

Connor smirks at Selena, or at least I think he does. It’s hard to tell when he looks like a lumpy mushroom. “You poor girl.”

She sneers at him and the door flies open, slamming into the wall.

“There you are!” Amelia hisses as she storms into the room, her heels clicking against the concrete while the door slams closed behind her. Her wild red hair whips around her face and her black eyes zero in on Connor—not me for a change.

“You need to get out of here,” she snaps, stopping in front of him. “I paid the cops to be busy with other things only for so long.”

He looks at her in silence…in a way that makes me feel like we should give them some privacy.

“Does it make you feel good? To see me like this?” he asks her, his voice filled with a familiarity.

Selena gapes up at me and mouths, “what the fuck?” and I shrug. How the hell am I supposed to know what’s going on? I’m just as confused as she is.

Amelia hisses and snatches the cotton swab and vial of adrenaline from Connor’s hand. Pulling open the metal layer and popping the rubber stopper, she dips the swab in and presses it to Connor’s eyebrow.

“Of course, it doesn’t, but this was the only way Cedric would spare your life,” she says, trying to lower her tone so we can’t hear.

Little does she know that this room echoes, and she might as well be talking directly to our faces.

“By humiliating me?” he growls. “That’s not going to stop me from going after the thing I want most.”

“This wasn’t to humiliate you,” Amelia snaps, tossing a bloody cotton swab over her shoulder and grabbing another. “I told you, Connor. I told you to stay away and you didn’t. When Cedric found out about us, I had to prove to him you meant nothing to me. These were his terms, not mine.”

“We could have ran.”

She laughs, but it’s a laugh that breaks with a choked sob in the center. I flinch at the sound of so much emotion in her voice. I’ve never heard it. I’ve always known her tones to be callous and cold.

“I can’t run.” She presses a swab to his nose and he flinches. “Not yet.”

Selena and I stand still, stunned at whatever the hell we’re witnessing. I try to wrap my head around it. So, Amelia is married to Cedric? But is also romantically tied to Connor? They were found out and this is Cedric’s revenge? Great, but where do I come in? Why am I involved in this?

“Why me?” I ask, startling Selena beside me.

Amelia straightens her spine and glances over her shoulder. A thin line of mascara trails down her cheek and it’s haunting. “Hm?”

“Why choose me to crush your little boyfriend?” I ask. “You could have chosen anyone.”

“Because I knew you needed the money. I wanted to help you…after everything I’ve done.”

Connor peers around Amelia’s small frame. “You two know each other?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be so surprised. She knows everyone.”

Amelia glares at me. “I told Cedric I knew of someone who wasted his talents fighting in shitty, secluded bars when life didn’t go his way. I convinced him you were the man for the job. I left out the part that you and I used to fuck each other’s brains out. You’re welcome for that.”

Jesus Christ. I bend low and pick up my bag. She’s not getting a thank you, if that’s what she wants.

“How’d you two meet?” Selena asks, but I’m not staying around for the story.

I tug Selena along behind me as I make my way to the door.

“It was just after I lost my professional contract. I was in a bad place. She helped me.”

I snort. “Yeah, she’s a real fucking saint.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about her.”

I whip around to face him. “I know everything about her. You think you were in a bad place then? Look at you. You’re in a worse place now.”

“It looks pretty bad, but my demise will keep Cedric off our backs.”

I can’t believe he’s actually rationalizing this. How did Amelia convince him to do it, anyway? How did she convince him to throw a fight in front of so many people for nothing in return?

“You’re sleeping with his wife,” I point out, nudging Selena in front of me so she can open the door. “If it were me, you’d be dead.”

Selena opens the door and I gently ease her out of the room and into the hall. I tuck her under my arm and escort her toward an exit. I don’t care about their bullshit. I don’t want to hear their origin story or how madly in love with her he is. I’m done with all things Amelia Petrovic. For good.

“That was…interesting.”

I scoff under my breath. “To say the least.”

“Do you think she really cares about him?”

“Probably not.” I pull my bag higher on my shoulder and squeeze the strap in my wrapped hands.

I don’t know what just happened and I don’t care. All I want is to go home, shower, and rest. I’ll deal with everything else tomorrow morning.

Chapter Sixteen

Selena

Six months later

The ocean water laps at my thighs and inches toward my hips as the tide comes in. Despite the sun that sank under the horizon a little over an hour ago, I still feel warm and it’s not just me that has managed to retain the heat from the sun. The water that encompasses parts of my body is warm, and Jackson’s hand as he trails it between my breasts and down the surface of my flat stomach is warm. Everything about this beautiful, tropical island is warm.

Sighing, I push my sunglasses on top of my head and roll my body toward Jackson. 

Flames from the large bamboo torches that light the beach cast a beautiful glow over our surroundings. The water, more black than crystal blue in this light, gently rolls its way into shore, barely felt as it caresses my sides. 

Jackson smiles at me, propping his head on his hand as he continues to rub my torso. “Best sunset yet?”

“It’s definitely up there with the best.”

I lean forward and kiss him on his soft lips. Six months have passed since Jackson won his fight. Once it was over, Amelia came through with the money—like she claimed she would—and we never heard from her again. I can’t complain, but I must admit that there’s a small part of me that wants to know what happened between Cedric and Connor. Did she leave Cedric? Was there something truly there with Connor or was she stringing him along for the fun of it too? Jackson doesn’t care. He got what he wanted, the rest is history. 

Shifting his weight, Jackson comes closer, his lips pressing harder against mine. These islands work like an aphrodisiac. I swear there’s something in the water, or in the sand. Out here, if I so much as breach Jackson’s personal space, it lights him up like a Christmas tree. 

The hand that massages my torso slips south, over my hips, and onto my ass. Quickly, the kiss turns from gentle to desperate, and the curious hand on my ass becomes confident as it shoots my back and toys with the strings to my bikini. 

In the next heartbeat, I feel my heavy breasts slip from underneath the loose fabric and I break the kiss. 

“Don’t we have dinner plans?” I ask, gripping my bikini and pulling it over my head. 

“We’ve got time to spare.”

I smirk. “That’s what you said at lunch and we never made it.”

I push myself to my feet as Jackson groans in protest, grabbing at my wet hips and sliding off. “Where are you going?” 

“For a swim.”

I stroll into the water until the torches can’t light my body, and my belly button is submerged. Turning, I lock my stare with Jackson’s and bend low. My firm nipples dip into the water as I push my bottoms down my legs and pull them off my feet. Jackson pushes himself into a seated position and watches, closely, as I scrunch my bottoms into a ball and throw them onto the sand at his feet. Scooping them up, he smirks at me before he tosses them over his shoulder and stands up. I watch, smiling like an idiot, as he unties his shorts and shoves them down his legs, allowing all of his beautiful glory to spring free. 

It’s what I like most about him. He’s never afraid of being seen, and it thrills me to no end because I also don’t mind being seen. A stranger could walk past right now and I couldn’t care less if they saw my naked breasts. 

I glance over the tattoo on Jackson’s thigh as he approaches. He had it redone a while ago—when I was in hospital. Although the spiders were hauntingly beautiful in a sad kind of way, the roses he had done over the top—just for me—are infinitely more beautiful.

Jackson descends into the water. It swishes gently with every step he takes, covering his strong calves and outrageously muscular thighs. I expect him to hesitate as the water draws closer to the apex of his legs, but he pushes through until the water submerges his cock completely and stops at his delicious “v” lines. 

I open my mouth to speak, but my throat is dry. I’ve seen Jackson naked more times than I can count on the hands of everyone I know, but I’ve never seen him in this light. Never half in the water, half out. Never with the raging flame of a bamboo torch behind him that can barely reach to cast its glow upon us. It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time.

And I realize how small I am compared to him. How weak I am compared to him. 

Jackson takes a final step and it puts him in the same groove my feet are in. 

“I like your hair like this,” he utters, pinching a lock off my chest.

Instinctively, I reach up and touch it. It’s lighter now than it was six months ago, thanks to the sun, and it’s dry and covered in sand, but it feels amazing. I take the lock of hair Jackson admires and I inspect it. When was the last time I had a trim? 

I’m yanked from my thoughts at the feel of his rough thumbs as he grazes the side swell of my breasts, forcing my nipples to their maximum point. I glance up at him and the way his familiar eyes smolder with lust and desperation traps me. Dropping my hair, I inch closer. He moves his hands, an invitation for me to slide my breasts right into his palms. I do, and in his hands, I feel so full. 

“Perfect,” he mutters to himself in a voice that is incredibly low and deliciously rough.

I reach up and touch his biceps. They’re as firm as rocks underneath his skin. 

“Perfect,” I say, muttering it in the same tone he did, which makes him smile.

With a growl deep in his chest, Jackson pulls me out of the water and into his body. Laughing, I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Even in the dim lighting, I see the familiar fire in his eyes. I hold myself up as he drags his open palm along the back of my thighs and onto my ass. I consider glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone is watching us, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’d sooner let the fire in his eyes consume me.

“Selena?”

Jackson’s hands tighten on my ass, squeezing hard. Exhaling, I peer over Jackson’s shoulder and back at the shore. As Olivia stands there with Seth at her side, her hands cupped awkwardly over her mouth, all I can think about is if the water completely covers Jackson’s ass or not.

“You have to get ready,” she calls out.

I hear a subtle laugh as Seth chimes in with a, “You’ll have nothing left for tonight if you keep going at this rate.”

They have a point, of course. This is the fourth and final island we’ve visited. For five months, all we’ve done is sunbathe, swim, eat, sleep, and have sex. Tonight, if we can bring ourselves to leave the water, we’ll finally tie the knot and he’ll be stuck with me forever. In three days, we set off on our honeymoon across Europe. All of our destinations are known by Jackson, but not by me, and I’ve never been so excited!

“We’re coming back here right after the ceremony,” Jackson states, kissing my neck.

I watch as Seth and Olivia turn and leave our bay, walking the wooden path back to the cabins on the other side of the monstrous cliff.

I sigh and close my eyes, tipping my head to the side. “I’ll be counting down the seconds.”

Maybe there’s nothing in the water or in the sand that makes him want me the way he does. Our whole relationship I’ve undermined my value by comparing myself to him and to his previous lovers. Regularly, I’d convince myself that he’d put me on a lower shelf when, in reality, he put me on the highest shelf he can reach. He loves me more than he’s ever loved anyone. How can I ever argue with that?

The sunset we just watched is the last sunset I’ll enjoy as Selena Graham. Tomorrow, I greet the sun as Mrs. Selena Quinn…

…the one and only.

Jackson

A few years ago, I would have sworn back and blue that marriage was not for me. It was out of fear, the fear of trapping myself in a relationship with someone like Amelia, who sought only to destroy what was left of me. I judged every female I ever met as if they were wearing a mask, and what I saw on the outside wasn’t who they truly were deep down. I imagined them dead on the inside, a soulless being with nothing better to do than suck the life out of a man who only wanted their love.

Early in our relationship, and for the longest time, I painted Selena in the same light as the girl before her. I compared everything she did and said. As a result, I kept Selena at arm’s length, treating her like she was nothing more than a conquest. A convenient lay. It was easy to believe for a while. Selena never once tried to convince me otherwise. Instead, she let me use her, and it wasn’t until I could feel her under my skin even when she wasn’t with me that I started opening up to the idea of keeping her all to myself. Of course, my heart rejected the notion. It wanted nothing to do with love ever again, so I acted out irrationally, hurting Selena in every way I could just to get her to leave me, but when she tried to let me go, I couldn’t handle it. I forced myself into her life, not allowing her to move on without me.

Because I needed her more than I thought I did.

When Amelia waltzed back into my life, I was mortified…and somewhat relieved. I’d always imagined the moment Amelia would come back to me. The sight of her face would suck all my anxiety away, I wouldn’t be so angry anymore, and I’d no longer be lost. However, the moment our stares locked for the first time in years, I’d never felt so sick. I’d come such a long way, and I didn’t even realize it. I probably wouldn’t have realized it if I didn’t have Selena. In that moment of staring down my old love, I noticed immediately that she didn’t have the power to dispel my anxiety, my anger, or my hate. It only brewed the longer I looked at her…

…and the second I was with Selena again, the anxiety melted away.

Because she was my new love. She held all of the power.

The more time I spend with Selena, the less I find myself clutching to old devices. I no longer find myself itching to fight or drink, and I’m happy with the love making and the sensuality of it.

Over the past six months, I have changed. Breaking the personality that I had cultivated to protect myself from another Amelia will take me a long time to achieve, and I know I’ll struggle, but I have Selena, and I have Seth, Darryl, and Olivia.

I’ll never be perfect. There will always be parts of me that’ll remain a little bent out of shape, but as I stand here at this beautiful beach altar with Selena’s hands in mine, I can only promise to never let them get the best of me or allow them to damage what we have.

I’ve dragged her through a lot to get where we are. Six months ago, Selena was treated for her non-viable pregnancy—which we still have six more monthly blood tests to do before we can even think about having unprotected sex—and I won my fight against a very strange Connor Cage. After that night, we never saw Amelia again. It helps that I changed my number so I never have to hear that sinister purr of hers come down my line.

Ever.

Does she deserve redemption? Does she deserve a happily ever after? I’m not so sure. I don’t care about her story and I don’t care what happens to her. There is no room in my new life for her and there never will be.

The last thing I needed to get our new life on track was the blessing of Selena’s father…

…I never got it.

I spoke with him face to face before we left for the first leg of our travels. I told him the date and the time, and I even offered to pay for his flights and accommodation. I tried my hardest to make it up to the man, but he made it very clear as I stood outside his front door, nervously squeezing my cap in my hands, that I’m not the man he wants for his daughter…

…that I’ll never be.

He swore to never attend any event we invite him to so long as she’s with me—even the birth of any grandchildren.

Heartless.

Selena doesn’t know. I told her that her dad would have loved to come, but he’s preoccupied with a pretty important case. I told her that he’d like her to send him photos of her smile every day. You should have seen her eyes light up…every morning after breakfast, she takes a selfie and sends it to him. He never responds, but she hasn’t noticed. I just hope he opens them and sees just how happy I make her, and promise to make her, every day. She’ll realize, eventually, that I lied to her about it, but I didn’t want her to be down about anything on a night like tonight, and I hope that’s obvious to her in the future.

For now, though, we have each other, and we will continue to have each other until our skin loosens, our muscles sag, and our hair turns gray. That I promise.

I glance over my shoulder at Seth, who stands behind a pregnant, round-bellied Olivia, rubbing her swollen middle gently. He smiles at me and I return it. They used to make me jealous, so jealous I’d hope their relationship crashed and burned. Now I no longer fear the future. I no longer fear being left behind to rot while others move on with their lives. Selena and I will get everything we’ve ever wanted…

…we’ve just given everyone else a head start.

The End

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About the Author

Skyla Madi was born in the small town of Port Maquarie, New South Wales in 1993. She spent half her life growing up in Wauchope, a thriving rural town at the heart of the Hastings River Valley before making the leap to the busy city of Brisbane.

Whenever this young Australian writer isn’t changing diapers, watching cartoons, cooking for her husband or doing other motherly-wife things she is actively working on her writing and improving her writing skills.

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