Page 20 of Stone's Promise

Chapter Six

CODY

Istepped outside the next morning after my dinner date with Emily. The spring air washed cool over me as I opened the door to my truck, my pre-workout drink in one hand and my gym bag slung over my shoulder. Max padded along beside me, his nails clicking against the pavement. The world was still asleep at five AM. I usually liked this quiet time of day to get in the right headspace to train.

I should’ve been thinking about my upcoming fight. Instead, my thoughts circled to Em and the way she felt in my arms as she kissed me back. Her lips had been soft, warm. She tasted a little sweet, and her scent, that soft floral hint that always clung to her, reminded me of sunshine after a long, brutal storm.

Fuck.

The boys at the gym would have my ass if they knew how pressed I was over her. But I didn’t care. Not one damn bit.

I took a long drink and letting the bitterness of the pre-workout snap me back to reality. This thing between us was supposed to be for show. We were putting on a damn good one, if the headlines were anything to go by. But those kisses didn’t feel like an act.

I glanced down at Max. “I really hope she talks to me after this whole Family Day thing is over.”

Max wagged his tail like he had an opinion on the matter. Maybe he did. The dog was smarter than most people I knew.

Shoving my gym bag into the truck, I let out a breath and leaned against the open door. The truth was, I liked Emily. Not just the way she looked in that dress last night, or how soft her lips were. I liked the way she listened and how she made it easy to talk. I could count on a few fingers how many people I shared stories about my life to, the dog included. Even Ryder and Liam didn’t know all the details about my relationship with my uncle. Only Emily did.

I sighed before releasing a quiet laugh. If anyone else knew just how tangled up I was over her, they’d call me a simp. Maybe they’d be right.

I wasn’t a smooth talker or the type to run game on women. My life and how I handled people was pretty simple. I was a fighter, a coach, a man who stuck to what he knew.

But I wanted Emily, a woman completely out of my league. How the hell was I supposed to make that happen?

The second I pulled into the lot, I spotted it. A black Lamborghini parked right in my spot. Sunlight gleamed off its polished hood like it belonged in a showroom. I knew exactly whose car it was. I gritted my teeth when the owner opened the door.

Trey got out and leaned against the car, arms folded across his long-sleeve Spandex shirt. He wore tight leggings to match. What social media influencer was missing their gym fits today? “No wonder he’s got that big vein popping out of his neck. Nowhere else for his pulse to go.”

Max let out a snort from the passenger seat.

“Easy, boy,” I muttered, giving him a scratch behind the ears. I let Trey hear me as I got out of my truck. “It’s just one of Fury Combat’s fans.”

I didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed at me. This guy hated being seen as just another face in the crowd.

"Actually," he said, pushing off the Lambo, "I'm here for our training."

“Our training?” It was my turn to squint at him.

Trey looked so happy he got a reaction from me I thought he would jump up and down. "I just dropped a couple Gs to get some pointers on my uppercut."

Max and I exchanged glances. An uppercut? This guy?

I shook my head at Trey. "I'm busy training for the fight. You'll have to find someone else to teach you how to make a fist."

Boy, he did not like me saying that. His jaw tightened. He tried to play it off, like he hadn’t just been brushed aside. "My family’s office is now a corporate sponsor for the Battle Royale. Your league says you’ll be happy to train with me."

And there it was. The real reason he was here. He wasn’t looking for training. He wanted to piss on my territory.

I exhaled, reigning in my temper. This was the part of business politics I hated. The lawyers and accountants over at Fury Combat’s corporate office cared about the bottom line. They had no idea why I wanted to put this guy through a wall.

But I wasn’t about to let his games mess up my day.

I nodded toward the gym entrance. "Meet you inside."

Trey followed me into the gym, running his mouth the entire way. “My personal trainer when I go to New York for business says my endurance is elite-level. I’m thinking about doing the Boston Marathon next year. Might even try for a triathlon.”

“Uh-huh,” I responded, already tuning him out.

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