Page 104 of Under the Lights

My insides went cold and then heated with fury as I clenched my jaw. This wasn’t just about money. They werethreateningher now.

And she hadn’t said a word.Of courseshe hadn’t. She carried everything alone, like she always did.

She told me not to catch feelings. Said I’d get bored. That whatever we had was temporary, not real.

Like I didn’t already have her burned into every goddamn part of me.

Like the thong I’d stolen from her weeks ago wasn’t still in my drawer, tucked away like a prize. A reminder that I’d picked a side the moment I laid eyes on her. And even if she didn’t want me fighting her battles, I’d still go to war for her.

Let them lie. Let them bury the truth.

I’d dig it up with my bare fucking hands if it meant she didn’t have to stand alone.

Thirty One

Sierra

“Oof!” The air whooshed out of my lungs as I rounded the corner and slammed straight into a wall.

A moving wall. A moving, tattooed wall, grinning like it was a good thing to be alive on a Monday morning.

Disgusting.

Behind us, weights clinked and shoes squeaked on polished floors, the usual low buzz of the athletic center humming in the background.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised.” I sighed.

Dom winked at me and sucked his teeth. “I’ve been looking for you, Darlin’.”

I gave my head a slight shake before pushing past him, only for him to fall into step beside me, an easy grin playing around his lips.

“Of course you have.”

He was always there, lingering, watching me, glowering at any guy in my vicinity … making me scream at night. The worst part?

Instead of finding it creepy, it turned me on.Ugh. He was so fucking possessive, it did weird things to my insides … and my lady parts.Highlyinconvenient.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it.” He chuckled, burying his hands in his pockets.

“How do you always manage to pop up like I said your name three times in a mirror?” I glanced at him sideways, watching him snort with laughter. Damn. He made eventhatlook attractive.

“Probably because you did.” He bumped his shoulder into mine carefully. “Come on, I know you’re writing’Sierra Kincaid’in your diary allllll the time. With hearts around it and everything.”

I scoffed. “You’re delusional.”

“You’re right. I should totally take your last name. Johansson makes me sound like a Viking. Do you think there were ginger Vikings?”

“What?”

“My people have been persecuted in history way too often.” He shrugged.

“Yourpeople?”

“Yes. The gingers. The redheads. Ye with the locks of flame.”

“Why the fuck would I know?” I stared at him in disbelief, then muttered under my breath, “And why am I even surprised about any of this?”

“No idea,” he said happily. “I thought maybe you’ve done some light reading, considering the chances our kids end up being red-headed are at least 50%.”

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