Page 106 of Last Round

“I told you, Luke, the right one isn’t a distraction.”

He remains silent as he chews on the tidbit of advice he seems to constantly andconvenientlyforget.

“Anyway, here.” I hand him the ring with the apartment keys. “Movers will be there tomorrow to grab the last few boxes. Otherwise, the place is yours.”

“I still can’t believe you’re giving this to me. Really, it’s too much.”

“We can’t have the next UFC contender sleeping in his car or on his friend’s couch.”

Luke’s face is blank as he stares at me.

“Don’t look so surprised. Word travels fast.”

“I just got the call about it… this morning.” Luke’s eyes go wide. “You had something to do with that, didn’t you?”

“Me?” I press a hand to my chest and glance from side to side, as though he’d be talking to anyone else.

Luke hugs me but quickly pulls back and straightens his clothes. “Thank you,” he says, his tone serious as he stares into his glass.

“I didn’t do anything, kid. You were selected because of your own talent and dedication.” Sure, I might have spent the past several months sending his name, stats, and footage to anyone and everyone I could think of to get him in. But with a talent like his, he would have been found eventually. I just helped move it along.

“Still.” Luke smiles. “Thank you. Whether you admit it or not, we both know you had a big part in this.”

“I’m going to get going,” Chelsea says as she returns. She lets out a big yawn. “Have a safe flight and congratulations. See you later.” She waves at Luke, spins (more like waddles), and walks away.

“You should give her a ride.”

“Dude,” Luke groans. “She’s about ready to pop.”

I hit him upside the back of his head. “I meant in your car, you dumbass, not on your dick. Then again, you never know. I’ve heard some stories about pregnancy. It does some crazy things.”

“Shit.” Luke rushes out of the booth. Takes two steps, stops, and turns around. “Thank you, again. I’ll see you when you get back.” He doesn’t wait for my reply before he chases after Chelsea.

Sean takes his seat. “Are you about ready?”

“We just got here.”

“Yeah, and you guys were late.” He chuckles.

True. I didn’t think about that. I watch Molly off in the distance. She now has a crown and sash that says “bride” as she and Bex take shots. “She’s going to pass out drunk on the plane, isn’t she?”

Sean laughs. “Yup, and guess what?” I arch my brow at him in question. “She’s your problem now.” He slides a shot to me.

“Fucking right she is.” We cheer, tap the glasses on the table, and slam them back. “Damn…” That hit me hard. That was my first sip of alcohol since the fight withIl Douche. I stand, pat Sean’s back, and then make my way over to my girl. Molly yelps as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.

“Hey, put me down,” she protests as she holds the little tiara to her head. I give her a firm spank, her body quivers, and I wish I could see her face because I know it’s that shade of red I love.

“Well, everyone, thank you, but we got a plane to catch. Dani.” I point to her at the bar. “Give everyone a round on me.” She frowns. I know how much she hates that shit, which is exactly why I do it. “Peace out!”

Molly continues to argue with me as I carry her to the car. “I thought Sean was driving us?”

“He is.” I lower her to her feet. “In about ten minutes.” I figure helping Dani pour all those shots will take about that long at least. My math might be off, so give or take five.

“Then why did you drag me out here?”

I press her against the car. “Want to see what I can do in that time?”

“Out here? Against the car?”

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