Page 37 of Last Round

“Traitor,” he yells out.

“Serves you right,” Dani replies. Clearly, there is something I’m missing.

“Any idea on how to get him home?” I interrupt their bickering.

Dani shoves two fingers in her mouth and whistles. Luke looks up from the conversation he’s having with Chelsea and rushes over. “Okay, probie, you’re up,” she says, patting him on the back before returning to the bar.

“Probie?” I question.

Luke grins. “It’s something she calls me.” He shrugs. “Whatever. It makes sense. Killian’s hazed me a few times.”

“He likes you.” Killian talked a lot about Luke and what a great fighter he’s going to be when we were hanging out the other day.

“That’s what everyone tells me. I’m Luke, by the way.” He extends a hand. I already knew his name but appreciate his manners since we weren’t properly introduced.

“Molly.” I attempt to return the gesture, but before I can, Killian is already swatting Luke’s palm away.

“Hands off,” he growls, wrapping his arms around me again. “She’s mine.”

Luke arches a brow and smirks, his eyes flicking between us.

“He’s drunk,” I try to cover for him. I don’t know Luke. While I’d like to assume he wouldn’t do anything to get Killian in trouble, it’s better to cover my bases.

“Hands off,” Killian warns Luke again.

“No problem, boss.” The young fighter shoots me a wink that, thankfully, Killian doesn’t notice. “Remember: no distractions.”

“Good,” Killian mumbles.

“Let’s get you home?” Luke urges again.

Killian hesitates, holding on to my shoulders. “Okay,” he reluctantly agrees before finally releasing me.

“You sure you got this?” I ask. Luke is struggling to hold Killian upright. He’s big and verging on dead weight at this point.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll take real good care of him.”

“Okay.” I cross my arms and tug my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Goodnight,” Luke says.

Killian gives me one last longing glance before moving his feet. They’re almost to the door when he halts and turns. For how drunk he is, he’s surprisingly quick as he darts off to the bar and hops over the top of it, knocking several drinks down. Glass shatters. Dani is hollering, asking him what the hell he’s doing, while patrons scatter and try to salvage their beverages. He ignores them all, walks to his wall of fame, and rips the board pinned with a disgusting amount of panties off the plaster. My breath hitches when his furious gaze connects with mine. It doesn’t break as Dani stands behind him, screaming and hitting him with a rag. After what feels like a lifetime, he turns, says something to make her calm down, and then stumbles out of the bar, board in hand. After he’s gone, I go to help Dani clean up the mess while those guys who were eyeing me up hoot and holler.

Crap, I’m practically naked. I try to cover myself, but it’s no use.

“Quiet,” Dani orders. “You act like you’ve never seen a pair of tits before.”

“Lionel hasn’t,” one guy says as he elbows his blushing buddy, presumably the man in question.

“Here.” Dani lifts her shirt, flashing him her bare chest. “Now he’s seen two.”

The commotion grows louder as a bunch of the guys make comments and begin throwing dollar bills as they beg for more.

“Not that kind of bar, boys,” Dani scolds. “Now pay your tabs and get the fuck out of here. I’m sick of looking at you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as I carefully collect the larger shards of glass from the floor.

“For that? It’s nothing. Happens at least once a month. You can head home.”

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