Page 47 of 1 Last Shot

I'm punching a dummy on the mat the next time I see Isabella.

"Well, this looks familiar," I hear her say in a dry tone.

I straighten from the bag and wipe my face with the bottom of my shirt, smirking in satisfaction when I see her eyes go black at the sight of my abs.

"What can I say, I’m a simple man," I tell her. “Whether I’m working or playing, I’m hitting things.”

Shocked out of her teasing, she focuses on my answer and cocks her head. "I don't think I ever asked. What do you do? Like for work?"

"Three guesses," I deadpan. And almost chuckle when a slow grin spreads across her face.

"Bouncing?"

"Bingo. At a strip club."

She laughs. "I should've known. I bet you're a nightmare for bar patrons. Do they ever get in fights with you?"

I shrug. "Sometimes. First night I ever worked the club, this cocky realtor got in my face and I had to throw him down the stairs."

Isabella gapes at me. "Youhadto?"

Another shrug. "It was my first night. I had to prove my worth."

Isabella lets out a disbelieving giggle at that. “Do you ever run into them on the street and think,Oh look, that’s the guy I threw out last night?”

My lip twitches with a smug grin. “Actually, that first guy? The one I threw down the stairs? His face is on a huge billboard on 95. I see him every day.”

"Oh myGod, are you talking about Jack Bueregard? The guy with that outrageous real estate billboard coming down from Northeast Philly?"

Isabella and I turn to find a slack-jawed Aiden, his eyes wide as saucers. I didn't even hear him come into the room.

Which is surprising, because that fucker is obnoxious.

"Is that the guy you're talking about?" he presses. "Because I've always wondered if he's as much of a tool as he looks."

"He is," I confirm dryly.

Aiden lets out a loud cackle. "That's amazing. And you threw him down a flight of stairs? God, I can't wait to tell Max. We're always laughing about how douchey he looks on that damn billboard when we drive back from the boxing gym."

I only grunt in response. I don't admit that I do the same.

I don’t realize that Isabella and I were chatting like old friends—and that I wasenjoyingit—until Aiden glances between us with a look of bewilderment. "Why are we talking about Angry Man’s bouncing mishaps?"

I quirk an eyebrow before I can stop it. "Angry Man?"

He shrugs, looking completely unapologetic. "If the shoe fits."

"You're an idiot," I grumble.

"So people tell me," he says with a sigh.

"Why are we calling Aiden an idiot today?" Jax asks, appearing from the office behind Isabella. Hailey trails behind him, almost entirely hidden from view behind her boyfriend's massive stature.

"He admitted to Kane that he calls him Angry Man," comes Hailey’s sister’s tired voice as she emerges from the locker room. She also smacks Aiden in the back of the head as she passes him on her way to the mat, almost as an afterthought.

"Ow," he mutters, rubbing his head and glaring at Remy. "I was just making small talk. He's been here for weeks, and none of us have ever talked to him. I was trying to break the ice." He turns his attention to Isabella. "I didn't know he even cared to exchange words. Apparently, I'm just not histype."

Isabella blushes as everyone's attention zeroes in on her. She trips over an answer, hurrying to downplay the situation.

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