Page 15 of Lies Like Love

“What guys—” But then it hits me. Brea’s worried I’ll get handsy with one of the fighters. “I’m not here for a date.”

“I know that.” Maren laughs, and I’m not sure why it stings that she thinks it’s so ridiculous. “But the other girls don’t. And some of them get attached, whether the guys like it or not. Just do your thing, stick by me, and you’ll be good.”

With a pat on my shoulder, she walks past me and drops into a folding chair against the wall. She pulls out her phone and starts flipping through social media, leaving me no choice but to drop the conversation and sit down beside her.

It shouldn’t matter anyway. I’m not here looking for a guy to take me home, I’m here for quick cash. Brea’s worried about nothing.

On the other side of the dressing room door, screams pulse in waves. Every so often the crowd goes wild, and I suspect it means another round has finished.

One of the girls walks back in with blood smeared across her chest. I’m not sure if this underground fighting ring is legal given the location and the apparent lack of rules.

At the start of each fight, a man with a clipboard walks in and chooses a different girl. And as the night continues, Maren assures me it’s a good thing we haven’t been picked yet because they save the best for last.

Something that feels like a relief until I’m finally called.

“Redhead, you’re up.”

I look over my shoulder at the guy pointing at me from the doorway.

“Your turn, girl.” Maren stands with me, gripping my shoulders. “Remember, it’s just you and the numbers up there. Stay out of your head. You’ve got this.”

If only I had her confidence.

“I’ve got this.” Somehow the words sounded surer from her lips.

“Oops.” Brea knocks past me, her leopard bathing suit spotted in blood from the fight that just ended. Giggles bubble around the room at her not-so-accidental run-in. “Enjoy the kiss, new girl.”

She swipes the smeared lipstick on her bottom lip and shoots me a wicked grin, before disappearing across the room and dropping into a chair to rehash the fight she just witnessed with her friends.

“Wait.” My stomach jumps to my throat. “What kiss?”

“Okay, so please don’t hate me…” Maren grits her teeth.

Screams well up from the other side of the door. Wails knocking around my insides.

“Don’t hate you for what, exactly?”

“It’s customary for the ring girl to give the winning fighter a little prize for his troubles. Notrequiredper se, but common enough that they’d be disappointed.”

“What kind of prize?”Please don’t say it, please don’t say it.

“Nothing much. Just a kiss.”

Now the comment about girls getting territorial makes more sense.

“Don’t worry about it.” She tries to brush it off, knowing it’s exactly what I’ll do.

Kissing random men—especially for money—crosses the line from a moral blip to dirty.

“What do you mean, don’t worry about it?” I’m shaking my head as she spins me around and pushes me toward the door.

“It’s just a kiss.” Her lips are by my ear. “Remember, five hundred bucks.”

Smacking me on the ass, she nudges me out the door, and it’s closed before I can question what I’ve gotten myself into.

The guy with the clipboard leads me down a long hall. With each step my heart hammers harder against my ribs.

I consider turning and running in the other direction. But no matter how much I want to walk away before this gets any worse, I need the money. Besides, I’m an adult. A kiss is a kiss. It doesn’t have to mean anything if I don’t let it.

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