Page 17 of Lies Like Love

From the corner of my eye, I watch him wrap his knuckles and his wrists with tape, but his gaze doesn’t leave me. In a room filled with men watching, all I care about is one.

Another step closer, another corner turned.

I tell myself I’m doing this for the money.

I tell myself I’m doing this for my freedom.

But every inch forward right now is for Jude.

Finally reaching his corner, I try to pick up my pace and hurry past, but he catches my wrist in his grip and tugs me toward the ropes the moment I’m within reach. They dig into my hips as he holds me tight against them. Pressing his body close enough for me to breathe him in.

He smells like midnight in the middle of summer, cool and warm all at once. Nerves tickle like the grass on the back of my neck when we’d lay in the backyard under the stars. He smells like heat and sweat when the fight hasn’t even started.

Sweet, spicy, destructive.

His hold on my wrist tightens, his nearness clouding my vision.

He’s close enough to feel his lips brush my ear as they curl upward—in rage, in amusement, in promise. It was always the same when it came to him. A game.

“What are you doing here, Fel?”

“None of your business.”

He breathes out an unamused chuckle. “You made it my business by showing up duringmyfight.”

“Didn’t know it wasyourfight.”

Why is he fighting anyway? He’s a body piercer. This doesn’t make sense.

“You shouldn’t be here.” A growl reverberates from his chest to the air. It shakes the room until the ground beneath my feet is unsteady.

Finally, I dare to face him. I look him in his sharp green eyes and narrow my own. If only it was enough to scare him or make him flinch. Challenge only ever draws his wickedness to the surface.

“What are you going to do about it?” I provoke him against my better judgment. “Kick me out?”

The devilish smirk that climbs his cheeks hardens the lump in my throat. Given an ultimatum, Jude will still manage to have his way every time. Worse, he fights dirty. And the way his gaze sweeps down to my lips as I draw them between my teeth, says everything.

“Of course not.” He pulls back the slightest, reaching his thumb to my lower lip and tugging it out from between my teeth, smearing my lipstick across it as he does. “Stay.Watch. I’m gonna win just for you, Red. Then maybe I’ll give you what you’ve thought about for years.”

My throat tightens.

Sweat and screams knot my insides.

Jude’s trying to get under my skin, thinking he can throw my teenage hormones at me to prove a point. We were young, I was confused. It didn’t help that we lived together, and he was constantly walking around shirtless.

Or that underneath his football captain façade, I saw hints of another side of him.

Like the time I failed a midterm, and Mom spent the entire evening berating me for it. He climbed into my bed and held me when I cried, reminding me failing one test wasn’t enough to limit what I’m capable of. Or how he’d sit and read with me instead of going out with friends when he sensed there was tension brewing between our parents. He said it was because he was tired, but he was my shield in a world that was starting to feel foreign.

He used my sensitivity against me to build trust. Making me believe there was good in him when there wasn’t.

“I didn’t want anything from you then. And I sure as hell don’t now.”

Amusement ghosts his expression. He doesn’t believe me.Idon’t believe me.

I’ll hold this line anyway.

“Save it for later, Jude.” A referee stops beside us, his gaze dropping to where Jude’s fingers grip my arm.

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