Page 38 of Fight for Forever

Megan has been on edge all night, even though she’s smiled through it. My fists are aching from how I’ve clenched them so hard. I’ve never wanted to knock the shit out of someone as badly as I do tonight. This isn’t me. I don’t let shit get to me.

But him talking to her like that. No fucking way. I shouldn’t have stood up to him. I should have played it off. Let Megan believe it didn’t matter, but I can see it written all over her face. She thinks she’s caused me trouble.

It might have, but it’s on me and Marris, not her. He only used her to get to me. And it fucking worked. I’m mad at myself, not at her.

The only good thing to come out of it was knowing I could calm her down, help her through an anxiety attack. She didn’t leave. I wish I could tell her how strong that makes her.

Meg thinks badly of herself. It’s obvious she struggles a lot with her identity and her ability to stand up for herself. She did so fucking good at putting Marris in his place. That is what I focus on as the night goes on.

Marris stays out of my way the rest of the event, although he’s working the room, no doubt talking shit about the fight. I don’t care. All I care about is making sure Megan feels safe.

It’s still early, the dinner just over and the speeches made, when I suggest we get out of here.

“I never hang around at these things,” I tell her, truthfully. “I can’t wait to undo this thing.” I pull on the bow tie. “Come on, let’s go.”

She is unsure but I smile at her and put my palm against her back to steer her out of the venue. I call the driver when she says she needs to use the bathroom. I stand guard outside too, making sure no one approaches her again. Megan is surprised to see me outside the door when she comes out, her hand flying to her chest, but at least she laughs at herself.

The car is ready when we leave, and there are no more run-ins with anyone. We sit on either side of the back seat. It’s not a limo, so there is no privacy screen between us and the driver. I don’t want to say anything to her about what happened in case she is embarrassed.

I scratch the back of my head, looking down at my lap, then peeking sideways at her to see how she is doing without it being obvious. She isn’t wringing her hands because they’re not together, but she is clutching her purse like she’s trying to kill it.

I didn’t want tonight to end like this. I wanted her to enjoy herself. To meet some people from my world and see that we’re not monsters.

I’m pretty sure I achieved that until fucking Marris came over and ruined everything.

Taking a deep breath, I move my hand across the seat between us. Megan’s hand is by her thigh. When my fingers brush against it, she turns to look at me, then at our hands. I stroke my pinky finger against hers, hoping like hell I’m not overstepping.

After a moment of hesitation, she lifts her hand, but she doesn’t pull away. She turns her hand over, offering me her palm.

Fuck, I never thought I’d get a thrill just from holding a woman’s hand. Not like the way this is making me feel. She smiles tentatively at me, and I give her a full-blown one in return, then squeeze her hand, intertwining our fingers.

We ride the rest of the way, holding hands, not speaking, not even looking at one another. But that connection is enough for me to put the evening behind us, to know I’ll have to deal with the shit storm tomorrow. For now, Megan is reassured.

At her apartment, I get out and we stand by the car. No way in hell am I not seeing her inside, but before we move across the sidewalk, she stops me.

“Would you like to come up for a drink?”

My stomach drops. Not in a bad way, more like surprised as shit. I’m not passing this opportunity up. Although it’s doubtful it’s gonna go the way I’d like it to, it is still a step in the right direction.

“Yeah, if you’re sure that’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t have asked Joey,” she gives me a smirk that makes me laugh.

“Let me tell the driver he can go. I’ll get a cab home,” I hasten to add, so she knows I’m not inviting myself to stay over.

Once I’ve done that, we head inside and take the elevator up to her floor. Her apartment is compact but nicely furnished, with soft eggshell blue walls and dove grey furnishings. There isn’t much in the way of décor, but she does have a lot of plants around and a huge bookcase.

There are a couple of photo frames in one slot. One is of an elderly couple I presume to be her grandparents, the other is her, Jenna and Brooke, their arms around each other.

Jenna and Brooke are both gorgeous women, but my eyes go to Meg and stay there. She’s beaming the hugest grin. It’s so carefree and happy, it’s fucking beautiful to see.

“I have beer, or soda. Or coffee,” Meg says from behind me.

“Beer is good,” I say, turning to face her.

She’s kicked off her high heels and dropped her purse in one corner of the couch. She disappears into the kitchen, and I walk to the windows to look at the view. It’s not great, other high-rise blocks surround the building. I can see someone in the apartment across the street, doing some kind of workout in front of their TV.

“That’s Jane,” Megan says, standing beside me and looking in the direction I am. She hands me a cold beer in a glass.

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