deserves it, though,” Collins chuckles.
I nod and force a smile as he leads me to where said smug prick stands tall in the middle of a squared ring, his large arms crossed against his broad chest. He watches me kick off my wedges and shake off my jacket before climbing into the ring.
I confidently stride over to Brenner and lift my chin, and smile. His eyebrows pinch together as he tries to figure out what I’m thinking.
“What?” he asks, shifting uncomfortably.
I flick a long fingernail under his chin.
“I want to fight you,” I shrug.
Just as Collins had before, Brenner erupts into laughter. When he registers that I’m not fucking joking, he too sobers. Typical men thinking pussy is weak. Typical me, getting wet thinking about how I’m going to prove them wrong.
“Wait, you’re serious,” Brenner says incredulously.