Page 56 of Filthy and the Beast

“Not what I expected from the Sledgehammer. Reggie gets a kick out of the guy, too.” He shrugs. “Guess I should know not to trust the headlines.” On top of managing a few hit bands, Fox has been plagued by his own scandals in the past, so he knows what he’s talking about.

“Exactly,” I say.

Nico tilts his head to the side. “What did happen with that match? The one in Vegas. Did you ever ask Enzo about it?”

“No.” I adjust my glasses. “He’s a very private person, and I don’t need him to justify his past to me.”

I feel defensive, maybe because I just moved in to his house and raised the stakes again.

Shadow winces. “It is a hell of a fight, though.”

“You watched it?” I ask.

“You didn’t?” Nico asks back, surprised.

I squirm. “I don’t know. I considered. But it felt like a violation or something.”

Fox throws back the rest of his drink. “Never seen a fight like that, and I’ll watch a boxing match from time to time. All match, Enzo goes at the other guy like an animal. He gets knocked out eventually, but the second the count is finished, he’s up and on the other boxer again, pounding him. Takes four men to pull him off.”

I swallow. “You’ve seen it, too?”

Owen clears his throat. “I watched it when you first considered moving in with Enzo. I showed it to Fox, and we were both ready to advise you against taking the job. You remember—I shared some of those concerns. But then Fox called Reggie, and Reggie assured us it would be fine.”

Damn. The fight must be really bad.

I know it is, of course. I’ve stumbled onto enough descriptions online. But I generally try not to think about that, just like I generally try not to think about Enzo boxing again.

Imagining him all sweaty and grunting, bruised but still swinging, is undeniably sexy. I’m not sure where that surge of desire comes from. I’m not wired to associate violent men in pain with hot and horny fun.

I am, however, firmly wired to associate danger with danger and violence with violence.

So after I get beyond the first flutter of twitterpation, concern takes hold.

I need Enzo to be safe. I need him to be the guy I know, not the Sledgehammer from the famous Vegas Thrashing.

“He might have been a different person then,” I say, “but even if he was, he’s not that person now.”

Fox holds his hands up, palms out. “Hey. I believe you. Hell, I wouldn’t want anyone to define me by mistakes I made twenty years ago. You wouldn’t either.”

I grin. “Twenty years ago, I was learning to tie my shoes and write my name.”

“Exactly,” Shadow deadpans.

I glance between the two happy couples, both sitting close together, hip-to-hip.

Again, I wish Enzo were here sitting next to me.

I sigh. “Fuck. I really like him,” I admit for the millionth time. “Luckily, I don’t need him to be a perfect person. Although he is kind of perfect for me.”

“Oh?” Owen raises his eyebrows.

“Perfect for me right now.” I don't want to give the wrong idea. “When I lost my old apartment and job, I considered dating someone and having a traditional relationship because I was craving stability. But really, I’ve never been arelationshipkind of guy, right? So actually, this situation with Enzo is ideal. He’s so respectful. I can rely on him. And I’m getting all my needs met, so I’m not distracting myself looking for hookups. The sex is incredibly hot, too. Like, steamy, multiple-orgasm, hands-everywhere hot.” I sip my cocktail. “That’s the kind of stability I really need.”

Nico nods. “There’s a lot of pleasure in stability.”

Shadow bumps his shoulder against his boyfriend. “And a lot of pleasure in rocking the boat.”

Laughing, Nico kisses Shadow. “Yes. Both are important.”

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