Page 108 of College-Virgin & Dark Bully Next-Door

I sniff and cover my face with my hands. “Yes. I miss him so much. I’m so stupid.”

She wraps her arms around me and lets me cry, lets me whimper, then pats my back. “Okay, wallowing … wallowing is good for feelings, not good for fixing. Don’t you want to fix it?”

“I do,” I agree softly. “But I don’t know if it’s fixable.”

We both look up as a knock sounds on my door. A second later, my father comes in. He stares at me for a long moment. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Just the lingering dilemma,” I sigh.

“You know what to do. Don’t doubt yourself,” he assures. “But be home by sunrise so I can pretend I have some kind of control.”

He walks away, and Bonnie gapes at me. “I am so out of the loop.”

“Mom came home for a while. Her visit just opened everything. We had a really long talk.”

“If you can fix that, you can fix things with Ash … if you want to. Do you want to?”

I try to think of how to verbalize it. How I crave his touch, how I miss his smell, want to talk to him and sass him and all of that, but I don’t see us working in the long term. We’re just too different, and he pushes me so hard, even when he’s not around. But … but I miss it. I felt like I was becoming better somehow.

“I don’t know. I miss him. I miss him so much, but what if we’re not compatible? He’s … him.”

She thumps my shoulder with her fist. “That is what you get from this conversation?”

“I don’t know. I like who he is with me and around his real friends. But he pushes me all the time to talk and say things and go out and things like that, and it’s so not me.”

“Do you dislike it?”

“Not always. Talking isn’t great. Going out wasn’t bad. I liked seeing him with his friends,” I whisper. “And being invited to dinner at one of his friends’ houses.”

“That’s huge! That’s a guy version of … well … the same emotional level of giving up virginity. He wants people to know you chose him!”

“Well, that was then.”

“Show up. We have to go tonight. You gotta get the pictures, and you get to do the pushing,” she insists.

Which means I clearly have to look hot. Meaning I pull on the sexy lingerie, low-slung jeans and a black tank top that doesn’t hide a thing. I pull on a black jacket to hide some of it, and then we head out with my camera and phone and a good dose of Bonbon’s fucking positive ‘bad bitch’ talk.

By the time we get to the gym, I’m not ready to move.

“I just gave you my best pump up jams and damn good advice. Get out of the car,” she orders, pointing to the ground.

“But … he’ll be there, and he’llhearwhat I have to say.” It sounds so fucking stupid when I say it out loud.

“That’s the point of talking. Go,” she insists. “Now.”

A few more threats get me out of the car, then I find myself in the audience. I take a few deep breaths. I should talk to him before the fight, right? Or would that be worse because of the whole fighter’s mentality thing?

Or I should at least let him know so he doesn’t justseeme in the audience and lose his shit. Something to stop the shock if there is a shock. Or he won’t react at all, which may be better, right?

But I can’t move. The locker room is just too far away, and then I see Mrs. Warren. She waves to me politely, then sits in the front row with Peter. I sink lower. “This is a shit show. Let’s go. Now.”

“Funny.”

The announcer seems to agree because he gets started, talking about the two competitors. He reads off Ash’s stats, and the man himself steps into the ring, hands held high, determination etched into the tight muscle of his body.

Ugh, his body. Ash is so fucking hot that it’s not fair. I feel like I’m drooling. Someone else does a wolf whistle, and I nod emphatically. He’s gorgeous, of course, he’s gorgeous, and, on top of that, he’s driven and ambitious, and why the hell did I break up with him again?

The fight is intense, and when the other dude gets a cheap shot close to Ash’s balls, I stand up. I start shouting at the ref and demanding some actual rules. Bonnie shouts next to me. In the middle of the silence, I yell for him to use his left.

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