Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Her gaze dips to my torso, before she blushes and looks away. “Did he have a chance before?”
“Nah.”
She laughs.
And I almost propose.
It’s the purest, sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It belongs far, far from this life of mine. This gritty, grinding, day-to-day struggle that I’ve known since birth. Yet I find myself taking one last look at her and striding toward the ring, determined to win the best prize I’ve ever been offered. Grace’s phone number.
Cheers start going up around me, men laying bets and throwing money around. Shouting encouragement. Slapping me on the back.
Before I reach the ring, I nod at one of my boys. “Make sure no one goes near her.”
“On it, North.”
Possessiveness toward Grace is already running wild inside of me, no hope of being penned in. That’s a bad sign. She might be sweet and innocent, but she’s still a rich girl looking for a thrill on her way to marrying an even richer man. I have to keep that in mind. I can’t forget or start getting my hopes up that we could be together in the real world.
Whatever she is offering me, I’ll take it. Even if it’s just a phone call.
Even if it’s just a stroke of that soft shoulder.
She’s not for you. Not for keeps. I know that—but I don’t have to like it. Hell, for the next few punches, I’m going to let that unfairness fester, let it stub my humanity out like a cigarette. I’m going to hate that I can’t have her for good. That I don’t have the money or stability or pedigree to win her—but this smug fucker does?
Once his hands are taped, Collier ducks beneath the ropes, shadowboxing, dancing in a circle. Waving to his fancy friends. When he turns to me, whatever he sees on my face makes the blood drain from his.
The bell dings.
I smile.
He’s flat on his back in one punch.
The referee, who is basically there just to check pulses and declare winners, lifts my hand up into the air. But I’m not really interested in celebrating—I want that phone number. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. With the chump groaning and curling into himself on the mat, I exit the ring, nodding absently at the people calling my name, thanking me for their winnings. I cut through the crowd in the direction I left Grace, eager to see her again. To hear that voice. And finally I reach her, stopping a foot away, caught off guard once again by how fucking beautiful she is. What the hell was Collier thinking bringing a girl like her to this place? I could climb back into the ring and knock him out all over again.
“I don’t see your phone…anywhere.” Her gaze skates over my chest, a blush erupting on her face. “How am I going to give you my number?”
“Are you kidding me? Your number, beauty?” I duck my head to bring us eye level. “Tell me once and I’ll remember it until my dying day.”
She breathes a laugh. “You have an impressive memory.”
“A man who’d forget a single thing about you isn’t worth a damn.”
A beat passes wherein we gravitate closer, our fingertips brushing together, the noise muffling around us. “Do you talk like this to other girls?”
I shake my head slowly. “What other girls?”
We’re so close now, there’s no air. I can’t breathe for being so close to all of her perfection up close. I’m sweaty and bloody and she’s a fucking angel. How is this happening?
She goes up on her toes and I brace for a kiss, positive I’m dreaming. No way this flawless masterpiece is putting that mouth on mine. And I’m right. At the last second, she goes past my mouth and whispers her phone number in my ear. Her breath on that sensitive part of my body turns my dick to stone and I have to clench my hands until they shake to keep from touching her. Take what you can get.
Suddenly I’m jerked back by the shoulder. Away from her.
Whoever is accosting me? That was their first mistake. Because taking me away from this girl is like waving a red flag in front of my face. I turn just in time to see Collier rear back with his fist—and I block it with a bellow, using the momentary opening to head butt him square in the nose, once again knocking him flat on his back. I don’t stop there. I pounce on top of him and lock a hand around his throat. “You could have hit her.” I tighten my grip until he starts to turn purple. “If your fist came any closer to her, you’d already be dead. Do you understand me? I should end your miserable life for bringing her here in the first place.”
“Stop talking about her like she’s yours,” he spits, blood oozing from his nose, eyes blazing. “She’s not.”