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I squeeze his hand, the one still holding mine. “Come on.”

He follows me as I pull him through the little store that now seems even smaller with him in it and grab the same brown leather bound book.

I look up at him, and he sighs. Then I shake my head in response. “Now we can put that back in the display.”

He nods and starts to let go of my hand. It takes me a minute to release his, and when I do, I look at it, expecting something to have changed.

Fiction. Grrr...

Once he pays for the book, he hands it to me as we walk out of the store. “Should work just like the other.”

I smile as I shake my head. “I love this one—it’s beautiful—but I still need the other one, too.”

He shakes his head in a definite no, then puts his massive hand on the small of my back, pushing me slightly forward as we walk along the riverbank toward the hotel.

He seems... lighter and less off putting, until someone approaches again. I don’t like it. I know it’s a wall, one created by the lie he holds in his head about himself.

I reach over and link my arm through his, which causes his steps to falter. I almost feel like I shouldn’t have done it, but it feels right. Then I think better of it and start to pull back, but he holds his elbow closer to his body, keeping it there.

Once at the entrance, he opens the door.

“Will you come up?” I ask as we continue to walk through the lobby.

He looks down at me as he slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket, releasing my arm, and nods.

“Should we take the stairs?”

He shakes his head. “You ride the elevator.”

“I can go with—”

I stop as soon as he gently takes my face. Then he leans in and says, “Take the elevator,” before he kisses me.

His kiss is gentle and soft, not hungry and controlling like they normally are.

When the bell chimes, signaling the elevator door is opening, he breaks the kiss then strokes his thumb across my lower lip. “Your ride’s here.”

I don’t even bother opening my eyes as he again settles his hand on my lower back and guides me inside.

When I open my eyes, he is standing on the other side of the doorway, looking at me with an almost sadness in his eyes, as the doors close in front of me.

Chapter Fourteen

As I stood with her outside the hotel elevator, I knew I wasn’t going to take the stairs to meet her up on the eighteenth floor. Instead, I walked out of the hotel, my stomach in knots. More than anything, I wanted to do exactly what she asked, but I can’t.

Her life had been spared, and as illogical as it may seem to most, I don’t want to become something that destroys her. My hell need not touch her beauty.

I force myself to walk out of the hotel, knowing damn well that the woman—Tatum—is the first person, who didn’t know me before I took his life, who didn’t judge me. She is the first person in all the madness that I have been surrounded in who cares about me. For that, I am returning the favor by walking the fuck away from something I damn sure want.

It isn’t fucking easy.

I jog back to the gym, hoping for a trainee to come in, one who isn’t scheduled, so I can escape this new kind of pain.

Tatum. Fucking legs for miles, and dammit, I want her like I have never wanted anyone. I want her so fucking badly that the mere thought of her has me hardening. I want her so badly that I know damn well I need to walk, jog, run the fuck away.

The gym is busy with Tatiana’s girl group, and Jagger is fucking around with Buck in the cage.

I tape up my hands then climb in.

“I got this.”

He smirks like he knows something. As much as I would like to tell him he doesn’t know shit, I refrain.

I pull off my sweatshirt and toss it over the ropes, stretch my neck, and then my arms.

Buck smirks. “Your head in the game, or on pussy?”

“What do you know about pussy?” I ask as we tap fists.

“I get laid plenty,” he says, jabbing at me. “Would be a fuck of a lot more if you and Jagger would let me take my fight to the street like I been saying.”

“You want to train here, you keep it legal,” I reply, blocking his attempts.

“This coming from an ex-con?” He swings again.

I sweep his legs, and he falls flat on his ass.

“What the fuck, man?” he snaps as he jumps up and swings.

“They’d eat your ass alive out there,” I tell him. Then I show him by tapping the left, then right side of his face.


Tags: Chelsea Camaron Romance