Page 112 of Surrender
He called it.
And Brawlers exploded.
Nate leaped into the ring, embracing Rafe tightly, the two grinning at each other. They may have only been brothers in the club sense, but there was a bond between them that transcended that, and my face felt as though it was splitting in half as I smiled up at them.
Moments later, the kid was surfing through the crowd, but Nate was jumping down from the ring and wrapping me up in his arms and kissing me, hard and urgently.
I melted into him, my fingers curling around his cut and pulling him closer.
The deafening noise around us became just a haze in the background.
Whenever Nate kissed me, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were alive with the thrill and energy that only came on fight night. The music started up a moment later, bass thumping through the floor while Tank’s team worked hard to get him sitting upright—his eyes open, but no lights on just yet.
“You see him?” Nate said, his voice rough with excitement. “Fuck. He did it.”
“I saw.” I laughed, shaking my head. “But someone had to teach him to swing like that… hmm?”
Nate smirked, his eyes still tracking Rafe as the kid got swallowed by people. “Rafe was born scrappy. He just needed those edges sharpened.”
I rolled my eyes, tiptoeing up to press a kiss to his lips. “Yeah, and you sharpened him into a damn weapon.”
“What can I say?” he muttered, his lips brushing against mine. “I have a certain set of skills.”
I barked out a laugh, pushing at his chest, but he tugged me back in, wrapping his arms around me. Nate’s grip tightened like he wasn’t just holding me, he was anchoring me.
I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”
Nate smirked, pulling me closer. “Yeah, but I’m yours.”
***
The roar of the crowd at Brawlers was still ringing in my ears by the time Nate and I stepped back into the clubhouse. The celebration had moved back here and out onto the patio, the jukebox tilted toward the open doors, but the music was on low.
The air was different tonight.
The build-up to Rafe’s fight had been intense—both he and Nate spending hours and hours at Brawlers—and now he’d won, everything was lighter. Everyone was on a high, and both Nate and Rafe would be riding it for days.
They deserved it.
We’d barely made it through the door when a voice called from across the room.
“I’ve got your little monster right here!” Kadey grinned from the couch in the corner, holding a wriggling bundle of fur in her arms.
Archibald, Archie, let out the cutest damn bark the second he spotted Nate.
Archie was acutely aware of who his dad was, and while Nate would bitch and moan in the mornings about having to get up to let him out to pee and picking up his poo, all that fun stuff, I didn’t miss the smirk on his face when Archie learned a new command or just did something freaking cute.
It was much like the relationship he had with Roxie. The kind where Nate loved to pretend he didn’t care, but the way he protected the people he considered family, it was what gave him away every single time.
Archie leaped from Kadey’s arms, and Nate flinched as if he was about to dive forward and catch the little brat, instantly proving my point and making me chuckle.
“Don’t even start,” he growled, trying not to smile as Archie came stumbling, then rolling and skidding across the wooden floor, struggling to find his feet.
Not surprisingly because they were huge.
Definitely not the right size for his body—at least we didn’t think so.
