Page 30 of Always You

A frustrated growl rolls from her lips as she takes a seat on the bench placed on the left wall. “Stop flirting with me!”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, a produced smile hitting me in the chest in response. She sighs, as if she’s giving up, while I tug my shirt over my head and playfully throw it at her. Her eyes widen slightly, even though she does her best to keep a straight face while she swallows hard, taking in my ripped chest. With a tensed jaw, I try to swallow away the desire building up inside of me.She can’t look at me like that.It’s fucking dangerous.

“Okay. That’s my cue. Just tell me when you’re done.” She brings her knees to her chin as she presses my shirt against her face, then lowers her head until it rests on her knees, and I let out a chuckle.

“You can watch, you know? I don’t mind.” I won’t be able to control the fucking hard-on she gives me with just a flutter of her lashes, but I’m enjoying this too much.

“Shut up, Hunter,” she says, her voice muffled by my shirt.

I smother a moan to keep it together before I take off my shoes to get dressed. The only thing I hate about having her around isthe fact that I can’t touch her. She’s not mine too touch, and she never will be, but damn, it gets harder every day.

“You can look now,” I tell her after I’ve put on my fighting shorts, reaching into my backpack to take out my gloves.

She carefully brings her head back up, while I tug my shirt out of her hands to put it in my bag, along with my other stuff. I quickly wrap my hands, then put on my MMA gloves, before I grab the backpack and nod my head toward the door. “Come on.”

A soft blush reddens her cheeks when she lets her eyes roam my body once more, and before I can stop myself, I push my palms beside her head, hovering above her.

She gasps, then rolls her lips in the most torturous way while her gaze is a coaxing mix of fear and craving. A perfect reflection of my own expression, I assume.

“Don’t look at me like that, babe.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything!” she squeals, even though she doesn’t question my comment.

“You are,” I croak out, having a hard time keeping it together when her breath feathers over my lips, tempting me to close the distance. “But you deserve the world and I can’t give you that.” I don’t miss the hint of surprise in her eyes that’s gone as quickly as it came, but I choose to ignore it. Straightening my body, I nudge toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Her shoulders are squared, a bit of defiance creeping in, but without a counter, she gets up and walks out while I hold the door. I quickly follow behind her, linking my fingers through hers to lead her back to the manager of the warehouse. The lights are dimmed, other than the spotlight fixed on the cage, but I still find him pretty easily. Phil’s smile cracks through his bubbly face when he spots me swirling through the crowd. “Hunter!”

“Phil, nice to see you.” His jet-black curly hair flops in front of his face as I offer him my hand.

“How is it going, kid? Are you going to make me some money tonight?”

“Of course.” He lets go as he glances at Charlotte, who’s still holding my hand with her stance as tight as her smile, when I spot a shiver trembling from her shoulders. “Can you keep an eye on my girl? I need to grab something from the car.” I hand him my backpack and he passes it on to his right-hand man to put it in his office before I untangle my fingers from Charlotte’s.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

She glances around us until her reluctant gaze drills into mine, and she nods in agreement.

“Hi, I’m Phil,” he says with a short wave as I let her go, then jog outside to get my hoodie from the car. I get back less than twenty seconds later, and Phil is laughing about something she said. The hesitant stance I left her in has completely erased.

“What’s so funny?”

“I asked her if she’s the reason you’ve never lost a fight. She told me how she’s the only one who can handle you,” Phil chirps.

Fuck.

That heat of possession hits me right in the gut again.

“Is that so?” I close the distance between us, crowding her space while expecting her to tell me to fuck off with every step I take. When she doesn’t, I press my forehead against hers. My breath softly fans her face as I bite my lip, withholding myself from the desire to finally find out what it would feel to kiss her.

Why does she have to make this so hard for me?

“Now, who’s flirting with who?” I whisper, looking into her bright eyes, while a voice booms through the speakers behind us.

“Are you ready for the match of the night?” The people around us break out in cheers while my gaze stays fixated on the enigma of a girl in front of me.

Mygirl.

Myfriend.

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