Page 133 of Clinch'd

Now that he’s here, I wonder who else knows? Fuck, am I going to have to leave and start over again? If Beast found me, how hard would it be for Castinetti?

I push away the tiny thought in the back of my head that points out, it didn’t take much for Beast to find me, so where’s fucking Cooper?

“I’m not going anywhere,” Beast says, grabbing my arm.

Spinning on my heel, I poke him which he conveniently ignores as I growl, “Get the fuck out, Beast.”

“No.”

“No?” I shriek, slamming my fist into his chest. He backs up rubbing his skin but it’s all fake because the only thing that hurts are my knuckles after punching his fucking rock-hard muscle.

“You wanna send Jackson on a wild goose chase, be my guest but I’m here and I’m not going,” he says, leaning into my face.

“Why?”

The game is over, so why is he fucking here?

“Because, when Cooper comes to his fucking senses, he’ll be here. I’m not leaving until then.”

“He’s not coming here,” I whisper and his jaw tics before he says, “Yeah he is.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because he’d be a fool not to.”

And so, I find myself doing the unthinkable. I came here to avoid possible death but apparently the appeal of seeing Cooper has overridden my good sense.

Dressed in a flowy red dress that conceals my little baby bump but accentuates my ever-growing boobs, I slide into the vehicle at the curb and say, “You better be right about this.”

Beast smirks and shakes his head as the car pulls into traffic.

Meanwhile my tummy is a roiling mass of nerves. I’m going to see Cooper. I’m going to see Cooper fight in a charity event.

I don’t know if he cares that I’ve been gone. Did he look for me? Did what we have resonate with him as it did me?

Am I about to humiliate myself?

“If he has a bunch of groupies around him, I might lose my mind,” I mutter, crossing my arms.

“Relax. If he does, we can pretend to be fucking again.” He waggles his brows and I stare at him wide eyed for a second before smacking his arm.

“Funny.” Truthfully, I’m trying to figure out who this version of Beast is. Up until now, he’s been a broody bastard with a rather ridiculous attitude.

Now? Did he just joke with me? Gah.

We settle into our normal silence, and I fidget with the hem of my dress as my mind continues to circle the drain of what ifs.

“Beast?”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you working for Castinetti?”

His brows furrow and he glances at me. I raise my own brow and he sighs. “Dick had something on me.”

“What?” I turn toward him because now I’m definitely curious, but he just shakes his head.

Instead of answering, he pulls out a flask and takes a swig. When I only stare, he winks. Winks!

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