Page 1 of Breaking the Habit

Chapter 1

Riley waited until the last possible second to turn on the air conditioning.

The machine roared to life, sputtering out a cool, musty breeze. She’d been sweating in her little studio for damn near an hour but couldn’t afford to turn on the air until she really needed it.

And with clients on their way over within a half hour, this was the threshold to make sure the entire studio cooled down before their arrival

She stood in front of the cool stream of air, sighing with closed eyes as she relished the breeze. Being cash strapped sucked. She was coming up on a year with the photography studio, and each month got worse. That wasn’t how businesses were supposed to work—not unless they were on their way to closing.

But it was make-or-break in Los Angeles. Everybody and their stepbrother knew a fancy photographer or had some connection to what’s-his-name from Milan or could get a discount on artistic portraits from somebody’s sister’s best friend.

She was an idiot for thinking she could ever make a career out of her passion. Yet, she still plodded forward, some sort of optimistic masochist, hoping against all hope that things would turn around. That something would start working. That business would begin suddenly multiplying, like every artist in LA had promised, and she’d be consistently making enough money for rent on the studioandrent for her shared house.

Riley shook her head into the musty breeze. Maybe it was time to give up. Here she was, hanging on by a thread, and the only work she could snag anymore was a bunch of glamour shots for some bodybuilders.

That’s mean.She frowned down at her off-the-shoulder T-shirt that said TRENDY AF. It was ironic. She wasn’tthattrendy. But it should have read BITTER AF. Because she was thinking poorly of the only work to come her way for over a week.

Holt Body Fitness had been her sanctuary over the past year, and she’d grown close with the owner Travis and his girlfriend Amara. Not to mention that his entire staff felt like some fun, extended family she’d never realized she was missing.

This was more than glamour shots. This was a legitimate portrait session that Travis and his trainers needed for promotional purposes.

Except it fell so far from where she’d imagined her career going. She wanted deeply felt, poetic assignments, the type of projects that blurred surrealism and hyperrealism, things which haunted, faces that made someone feel uncomfortable.

She never imagined her portfolio would include the perfectly defined pectorals of a certified MMA fighter.

Really, she needed to sink to her knees and thank Travis for booking this with her. Even if it didn’t line up with her vision, he was saving her ass. At least now she could afford the majority of her rent. If they tipped, all of the rent.

If she really wanted to hit rock bottom, she’d start offering senior portrait sessions.

The front doorbell sounded—a smooth vocal recording of John Stamos saying “Oh hi!”—and Riley yanked herself away from the cool breeze.

Although she hadn’t envisioned her career leading her to MMA fighters, it wasn’t all bad. She couldn’t help but grin as the four men sauntered in. Travis Holt and his flock of fighters. That was the technical name for a group of MMA fighters—a flock. At least in her mind.

And damn, this flock was fine. Travis beamed as he entered, tipping his head back to look around the studio. Lex was on his heels, as well as Cobra and another man she didn’t recognize.

It was the unknown guy who caught her attention. No—he didn’t catch it, because that implied she was willing to part with it. This man came right up and robbed her attention. Stole it out from underneath her and ran away like a street urchin in a Charles Dickens novel.

Riley’s gaze soldered onto him, like he was the last thing she’d ever look at. He had long, wavy, chestnut hair, just past his chin, and playful honey-brown eyes that immediately returned her gaze. They’d already exchanged a day’s worth of conversation in the milliseconds of locking eyes, and she knew this type of connection was trouble.

She ripped her eyes off him, searching for her voice, wherever it had disappeared inside her esophagus. “Travis! Welcome, guys! Here it is!”

She wanted to sound playful and light. Not braindead from the unexpected appearance of this Gucci-grade guy who sauntered closer as if he could read every single thought scorching through her head.

“Place is cute,” Travis said, dropping his duffel bag on a hairy white arm chair by the door. Riley tended toward unique and artistic pieces—it was why not a single plate or bowl matched in her kitchen, instead all sourced from funky pottery shops and thrift stores—and seeing these classically handsome men against the backdrop of her weird space was oddly satisfying.

“I feel like I’m in Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” Lex said.

“What the fuck is Pee-wee’s Playhouse?” Cobra asked. The four of them had come in matching black track suits which said HOLT across the front. They were living, breathing ads for the gym.

“Riley, let me introduce you to the newest member of the training camp,” Travis said to her while Lex schooled Cobra about the ins and outs of the cultish kids’ show from the nineties. He jerked his chin toward the unnamed fourth guy, the Adonis with the honey gaze. “This is Levi. He’s my newest mentee. We’re getting him ready for a full schedule of fights starting this month.”

Levi started a slow swagger toward her. If he was an alien space ship, she was caught irrevocably in his tractor beam.

“Pleasure to meet you, Riley,” Levi said, bowing forward slightly as he offered his hand. His voice was silk and bass. She didn’t know if she should run or take off her clothes. Men that looked like him, with flyaway tresses and broad, masculine shoulders, could never be trusted. They were too hot for their own good. She knew where looks like that led.

Straight to the back alley of Cheaterville.

Riley hesitantly took his hand. He squeezed it gently but didn’t bring it to his lips for a kiss as she feared.Phew. “Nice to meet you, Levi. You picked a good trainer.”

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