Page 4 of Wanting the Fight

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It was only a four-and-a-half-hour drive from Vegas to my place in LA, but I ended up booking a quick flight so I wouldn’t have to rent a car. One thing was for sure, I couldn’t lie to Reagan. She could always tell when I lied.

“Flying,” I confessed.

She gasped. “It’s not safe for you to fly alone, Peyton. What if someone recognizes you and you get bombarded? You don’t have anyone to protect you.”

Groaning, I went over to her and squeezed her arms. “I’ll be fine, Reagan. I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me.” I walked away from her and picked up the hair tie I’d left on the coffee table. “Do me a favor and don’t tell my brother. He’ll call our mother, and I’ll end up having a stuffy old bodyguard at my door within thirty minutes.”

Reagan snickered. “Yeah, that’s something she’d do for sure.” When my mom traveled with me, she would stand in as my bodyguard. One time, a man tried to touch me, and she knocked him on his ass. The paparazzi caught it all on camera, and no one has attempted to approach me ever since.

“I just want to head back to California for some relaxation,” I said, pulling my hair back into a ponytail.

Reagan’s blue gaze averted to my neck, and she gasped. “What the hell is on your skin?”

I slapped a hand to my neck, thinking there was a bug on me. “Oh my God, what is it?”

Reagan grabbed my chin, moving my face to the side. “It looks like a giant freaking hickey.”

“What?” I shouted, rushing to the mirror on the wall. Surely I would’ve noticed if I had a hickey on my neck when I got in the shower this morning. But, then again, I don’t remember ever looking in the mirror. My mind had been in a million different places when I got to my room.

When I stopped at the mirror, I could see the telltale signs of a reddish-purple mark just above my hoodie. I jerked the fabric down, and lo and behold, there was an inch-sized hickey there for all the world to see.

“Son of a bitch.”

Reagan snickered behind me; her eyes lit with humor as she watched me through the mirror. “Someone must’ve had some fun last night after the wedding. Care to tell me who it was with? There were only a handful of guys around us last night.” Before I could speak, she held up a hand. “Wait, don’t tell me.” She bit her lip and smiled. “It had to be one of the guys from Vegas. My guess would be Kase. Because I know it sure as hell wasn’t with my brother or Ripp.” My eyes met hers in the mirror, and then hers widened, clearly picking up on my hesitation. “Seriously, Peyton? Ripp?”

Ripp Jameson was also an MMA fighter who happened to be Ethan’s cousin. He had a twin brother named Brooks, who was away working with the FBI. Ripp was sexy in that rugged fighter type of way, but Ethan always had a way of turning my eyes to him.

Swinging around, I faced Reagan. She was my best friend, and we never kept secrets from each other; I couldn’t start now. “It wasn’t with Ripp, Reagan.”

Tilting her head to the side, she studied me and then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Holy shit, I can’t believe this. You had sex with my brother, didn’t you?”

Clearing my throat, I adjusted my hoodie to cover the mark on my neck. “Let’s just say I had a little too much to drink.”

Reagan snorted. “Yeah, I bet that’s all it was. What happens now?”

“Nothing,” I answered quickly. “It was a one-night stand. That’s it.”

By the look on Reagan’s face, she didn’t believe me. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. It’s never going to happen again.”

I can’t afford to be reckless like that . . . even if it did feel amazing.

CHAPTER3

ETHAN

Peyton Emerson.

Now that was a girl I never imagined would want a guy like me. There was something about her, something different I’d never noticed before. It wasn’t just that she was sexy-as-fucking-hell with her midnight-colored hair and alluring green eyes that could make any man fall to their knees. Or even her honeysuckle scent that drove me crazy. Maybe it’s just the thought that she wanted me when she could have any man she desired.

Whatever was going on between us, there was one thing I did know. I didn’t get enough last night. I loved a good one-night stand now and again and was more than happy to break free the morning after, but I didn’t want to let Peyton go. She had a fire inside her, an energy pulling me toward her. It was something I’d never felt before. I knew she felt it too.

Once out of the shower, I dried off and ran a towel through my hair before dressing in a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt. Ripp and I were going to meet Kase for lunch before our fights tonight at the Labyrinth. I was addicted to fighting. I enjoyed the adrenaline rush and hearing people scream my name. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as excited about the festivities tonight. A certain dark-haired beauty wouldn’t be in the crowd watching me.

It was probably for the best, anyway. I wouldn’t have to watch as all the guys made moves on her. Several times I’ve had to restrain myself, or there would’ve been an outright brawl inside the club. I didn’t want to do that to Kase. Plus, there was another reason why I didn’t want Peyton, my sister, or Braden around tonight. Someone was going to be at the club, someone I didn’t want them asking questions about.

Grabbing my dirty clothes from last night off the floor, I tossed them onto the pile in the corner. I reached for a sock that was half underneath the bed, and when I picked it up, something lacy and pink came with it.


Tags: L.P. Dover Erotic