Page 9 of Breaking the Habit

Travis wet his bottom lip as he shook his head. “You know what? Iamgonna pop you good tomorrow.”

Riley snickered. However long she’d be tasked with taking pictures of Levi, it was sure to be interesting. Because one thing was clear—the man made sure everyone around him left with smiles on their faces. It was a quality that made her curious to learn more…even though she wished she didn’t wonder.

It was the wondering which led to more.

Levi’s cinnamon gaze settled on her. He held the door open for her after Travis passed through, his grin like a caress against her arm.

“See you tomorrow,” he murmured. “My almost-friend.”

His words rang in her ears as she drifted out of the gym. His face haunted her thoughts all the way back to her studio in the mid-day traffic.

And that, right there, was all the sign she needed.

No matter how badly she’d been burnt the last time around, if she gave her heart an inch, it would take a mile.

Levi wouldn’t even get a millimeter.

Chapter 4

Levi paced the far edge of the gym, tapping his taped knuckles together.

On the other end, throngs of people milled around. Conversations and laughter echoed through the spacious training camp, but it all receded to a dull roar as Levi tried to amp himself up.

It was just a practice, but he treated it like the real thing.

If he had to create a pie chart of his life, he knew what the breakdown would look like. Home and eating: 25%. Fighting or preparing to fight: 60%. Having sex or thinking about sex: 15%.

This practice was a sliver of the 60%. Fighting consumed his life, and it was one of the three things he required in order to function. Though recently, the sex percentage rang in a little low. He’d need to start eating less to bump that sex number up. Because fighting wasn’t going anywhere.

He glanced over at the double doors as Riley walked in. His belly cinched, like a knot being pulled tight, and he damn near tripped over himself.

He kept up his pacing, but he couldn’t rip his gaze off her. She swept in, pure moodiness and art in her studded black jean shorts and combat boots, camera bag slung over her shoulder.

The girl messed him up. Her looks were one thing, but the stuff that came out of her was another. The day he’d met her, he’d pegged her as a challenge. The type of girl he could aim to win over within a day or two, if he worked hard. But once he’d seen the stuff that poured out of her—the heartache and the loss and the inexplicable sense of optimism buried in her haunting images—he’d realized she was in a different category altogether.

Levi wanted her. God, he wanted her. But maybe too much.

He had fantasies galore about how he’d bend her over a chair in front of that creamy white backdrop and fuck her while the camera clicked with automatic shots. Sizzling visions of sex backed up against the gym wall, sweaty after a fight.

Yeah. She more than messed him up. He’d known her less than a week, and the only name in his mind wasRiley.

But he knew how to solve it. The same way all pressure was dealt with.

Fucking, getting into trouble, and moving on.

“Almost time.” Lex jerked his head toward the octagon at the center of the gym. Riley stood off to the side, snapping pictures of the gathering crowd. It was mostly MMA enthusiasts and gym patrons who came to these informal matches. Excitement pulsed in the air; the anticipation of seeing expert punches and mesmerizing footwork. Riley didn’t know what she was getting into—she’d been right about that. But Levi suspected she’d like it. She drifted toward Travis, who was conferring with Cobra about something.

Travis was a good guy. One of the best trainers to cross his path since he’d decided to make fighting his profession at the young age of twenty. Levi needed to make him proud. There weren’t a whole lot of people left in Levi’s inner circle—beyond his little brother, at least. Travis had been hesitant to take him on initially, because Levi had an unpredictable streak, and he didn’t hide it.

He couldn’t hide it, not even if he tried. His arrests and drama always ended up surfacing, whether it was in the police beat or the local newspapers. That was in Chicago, at least. But out here, who knew? He wanted to hit the big-name tabloids. Featured alongside the tired articles about Angelina Jolie secretly reuniting with Brad Pitt in New Orleans, or the “news” about Ariana Grande’s latest love interest. Levi could get there. Hewouldget there. He’d be that name that could conjure interest and gasps.

He just needed to cause a big enough ruckus that heads would turn.

Travis signaled for him to join the others at the octagon. Levi jogged over with a pep in his step, practically skipping like a kid arriving at the sandbox for the day. This was his sandbox. Where he let loose and played.

“You’re going against Cobra first,” Travis informed him once he’d weaved through the first few rows of people gathered around the octagon.

“Poor guy,” Levi said, loud enough for Cobra to hear. Cobra often volunteered himself for these mock matches. The guy fought well, but he wasn’t at competition level. That was according to plan though—it meant Levi could try out his new moves without tipping Cobra off.

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