Page 152 of Rebel Hawke

I nod and lean my temple against his arm. “They sure did.”

Atlas plants a kiss on the crown of my head. “I promise I’ll bring you back here for a romantic hotel stay once all this is over. I know the owners…”

Laughing, I grin up at him. “I wasn’t worried about that.”

There isn’t a doubt in my mind that once we make it past tomorrow night and the wedding next weekend, Atlas will want to spend a whole lot of downtime with me. Likely doing what he does best—pampering me in any way possible.

He leads me farther inside to where Kennedy and Cass stand, talking with Gabe and Savage on the far side of the lobby.

Kennedy’s eyes widen as she sees us approaching. “Oh, there you are.”

She rushes forward in sky-high heels and a tight red dress and tugs me into her arms, breaking me free of Atlas’ hold. He grumbles in disapproval, but his dad intercepts him and pulls him to the side for a conversation before he can regain his handhold on me.

Squeezing my shoulders, Kennedy pulls back and examines me. “You look great. Are you feeling better? Aren’t you excited?”

Laughing, I sort through her questions. “Yes, I am feeling good today, but who knows what tomorrow will bring? And…I guess.” I shrug. “I haven’t actually ever been to a weigh-in before.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “It’s pretty easy. The guys get up on stage, jump on the scale, then they sit down, answer a few questions, and hopefully don’t kill each other.”

I freeze. “Kill each other?”

In all the videos I’ve seen of Atlas’ matches and the pre-fight lead-up, I’ve never seen him get physical with anyone during weigh-ins, but it’s certainly something that happens on occasion.

Boxers are fueled by testosterone and pride, and when they come face-to-face, things can often get out of hand.

Kennedy laughs off my concern and drags me over to Cass. “Vince and Atlas have always gotten along. They’re rivals, but there’s no ill will. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Cass nods, catching onto the topic of conversation as he glances up from his cell phone. “She’s right. But you know the type of security we always have if there is an issue. Plus, Saint will be on stage with them.”

I snort. “I wouldn’t want him getting involved.”

Kennedy laughs. “Neither would I. You’ve seriously fucked up if the Big Guy steps in.”

Atlas keeps his gaze locked on me as he talks to his dad and uncle, nodding a few times and mumbling something I can’t make out before he holds out his hand to me.

Either he’s done with that conversation, or he wants to be.

I offer an apologetic smile to Kennedy and Cass. “Excuse me.”

They each offer a knowing smirk as I slip away from them and over to him.

He tugs me against his side, eyes locked on me, ensuring I’m okay, then flicks his attention up to Kennedy. “We’re going to go. Where do I set up?”

Kennedy bustles over to us in her stilettos, looking every bit the CFO she is. “I’ll take you.”

Tugging me with him, Atlas follows her down a hallway, dipping his head down to mine. “You all right? You looked a little shaken by something Kennedy said.”

Shit.

I had hoped he hadn’t seen that.

The last thing he needs right now ismystress when he has plenty of his own.

“She joked about you and Vince trying to kill each other on stage tonight.”

He smirks. “You have nothing to worry about, Little Bird. Vince is a true professional.”

“That’s what she said, but—”

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