Page 32 of Last Round

“Great, you’re both here,” Sean says as he balances a tray of coffees in one hand and a bag of donuts in the other. He looks between us. “Why are you guys all hot and sweaty?”

“Warming up,” Molly and I say in unison.

I clear my throat. “Plus, I think the AC is on the fritz.”

Sean swears under his breath. “Fucking energy-saver bullcrap,” he grumbles. “It’s the only bright side to staying in the hotel with Jess, blasting the damn AC. They aren’t regulating shit there. It was fucking sixty degrees in our room last night.”

I tug at the collar of my t-shirt to air it out. “Yeah, this scorcher is a killer.”

“Anyway.” Sean makes his way across the floor mat. Molly and I follow behind him. “I didn’t have time to talk to you about it yesterday. You know, with you getting your ass handed to you and all. But Molly has graciously agreed to help us at the gym. With PR and social media stuff.”

Molly shoots me a cocky grin. At least that explains why she’s here. Fuck, she’s not going to make this easy on me, is she?

“Speaking of,” Molly interjects. “Didn’t you say I had an office?” She claps her hands and bounces on her heels, as she looks around excitedly.

I arch a brow and study my friend, my business partner. We have two offices in this building. Mine and his. I have no intention of giving up my space. Not that I ever use it… for business needs, that is. But that was before. If she’s working here, I’m going to need a sanctuary with a lock and key.

“That you do,” Sean says with a sudden lilt in his tone as he leads us to the back of the gym. “Ask and you shall receive.” He opens the door to the cramped space.

Molly steps in and looks around at the sparsely decorated room that’s just large enough for her desk, chair, and a small filing cabinet. “It smells like lemon and bleach in here.” She sniffs the air.

“Wasn’t this our supply closet?” I ask, taking a second look. Sean elbows me in the gut.

“Seriously?” Molly crosses her arms. “I’m going to pass out from the fumes in here. There isn’t even a window.”

Sean waves her off. “It’ll air out in a couple of days. Anyway, welcome to the team, little sis.” He shoves a coffee and donut at her. “Kill and I have some business to discuss. Why don’t you get comfortable? Decorate however you want. Be back in a minute.”

Fried pastry dangling precariously from her mouth, Molly flips Sean the bird.

“Love you,” he calls out before shutting the door and turning back towards our much-larger, open offices. “So, have you given it any more thought?” My best friend gets to the point before I even sip my coffee.

“A little.” Not really, but I’m not about to admit what I was really thinking about last night.

“And?” he asks while thrusting a jelly-filled donut in my face.

“I cannot be swayed by even the most delicious fried pastry, sir,” I say as I take a bite. “Lemon,” I groan.

“You’re favorite.” Sean waits anxiously. “Still not convinced?” He digs inside a drawer. “How about now?” He proudly displays a bottle of Jameson Vintage Reserve.

I quickly shove the rest of my donut into my mouth, swallowing it down as I lick my fingers clean. “What do we have here?” I pick up the bottle, cradling it like a baby as I inspect the label.

“I may or may not have been holding on to this for a special occasion.”

“Is that so?” I’m not ashamed to admit that the hard-on from earlier returns.

“I figured, after one of our fighters made it, got their first title shot, whatever… we’d celebrate. But using it to get us that fighter is the next best thing.”

“You really want to train that kid?”

“Don’t you? This could put us on the map. Your name can only take us so far, Kill. Times are changing. Fresh blood steps into that ring and new legends are made every day.”

“And I’m becoming a long-lost memory,” I confirm what he was tryingnotto say. I halt Sean before he can give me one of his signature pep talks. “I’m not mad. It’s how it goes. Let’s face it. I was good, but I wasn’t in long enough to become a legend. Honestly, I should be happy that this kid has even heard of me. It means he’s likely been following fighting his whole life.”

“Just like us.”

Something in the back of my mind prickles and cautionsjust say no. Luke is great. He has all the potential Sean is looking for. But I get where my best friend is coming from. The gym isn’t sustaining itself, and I can’t keep us afloat forever. In the long run, it would be the best thing for Luke if we brought this other fighter onboard. With the money and publicity, we’d have no problem staying open.

“Let’s play for it,” I decide.

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