Sweet Victory: BTU Alumni Series Book #3

by Ciz, Alley

  The look he sent his friend would have most men pissing themselves, but no, he had to go and become best friends with a guy who was one of the toughest enforcers in the National Hockey League. He growled in frustration.

  “Look,” Jase said, finally relinquishing his hold on him. “I’m not saying the situation doesn’t suck major Yoshi balls, because it does. But what I am saying is…did you ever stop brooding long enough to note who else is missing right now?”

  “Brooding?” Sarcasm dripped from the word. “You need to lay off the romance novels, bro.”

  “Fuck you, asshole, you read the same amount as me, so don’t even start.” Jase looked almost bored at his attempt to insult him. “Now stop being a dick and open. Your. Eyes.” He waved an arm around the room. “Who isn’t here? Rocky maybe? You know, your sister. Also known as the person who wraps your hands for every fight.”

  “Fuck. You.” One long stride had them toe-to-toe, his fingers doing their best impression of jazz hands to rid himself of the irritation coursing through his body while he reminded himself not to punch him. “Now who’s the one being a dick?” Vince arched a brow. “I may not be as superstitious as some of the wonky Major League-type shit you guys get into—”

  “Bro.” Jase chuckled, cutting him off. “Do not use a baseball movie as your reference point.” He facepalmed.

  He gave in to the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway…like I was saying…I have one tradition.” He held a finger up for emphasis. “And that is to have Rock wrap my hands before every fight. So can you please refrain from pointing out how she is not here right now?”

  “But that’s my point.” Jase’s hands slapped his thighs.

  It was a toss-up who was more annoyed with the other.

  “You know,” Deck cut in while buffing his nails on his shirt like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I’m a little disappointed you haven’t picked up what Jase is throwing down. You both were the ones to name The Coven. Don’t you think it’s a little weird that none of them are here right now?”

  Was that true?

  Another inspection of the room and sure enough, there wasn’t a female in sight. All the guys from the gym were there: Nick and Damon yucking it up in the corner, Griff most likely texting his girlfriend, Simone, while talking to Ray, and Gage was sitting on the same treatment table he would use when his hands were wrapped under the watchful eyes of the officials soon.

  “Where’s your wife?” he snapped at his brother-in-law. The dude looked way too calm for his pregnant wife to not be at his side.

  “Your sister”—he cocked a brow sarcastically, not at all intimidated by Vince's harsh tone—“told me they had ‘Coven business’ to take care of, but she promised to be back in time to wrap your hands. So can you please untwist the panties that are currently bunched in your vagina a take a chill pill, man?”

  He flipped him off, but couldn’t work up a good mad over the comment. He'd said pretty much the same thing to Gage when he was mooning over Rocky.

  “Thank you!” Jase threw his hands in the air, holding them up and looking to the ceiling as if praying for patience. “This is what I’ve been trying to get you to realize for fifteen minutes. JD and Skye have never missed an important event for any of us. If they aren’t here now, well…” He let his words trail off for them to fill in the blanks.

  Vince dug his knuckles into his brow ridge. The maelstrom of emotions churning inside left him feeling unmoored, like a buoy at sea in the middle of a hurricane. He could never admit it out loud, but he was counting down the seconds until his fight, but not so he had his shot at the title. No, the sooner the fight got started, the sooner it would be over and he could go after Holly.

  Holly.

  Holly.

  Holly.

  Her name was a staccato pulse in his brain with every beat of his heart.

  Fucking hell, falling in love was the toughest fight he’d ever faced. Though his heart felt like it had already gone four rounds inside the cage, it was smacking gloves, ready for the final five minutes left to win. His record was unblemished, not one defeat on it. His Cupcake would not be the first.

  He’d do what his sister told him. He’d win the fight, then go and win the girl.

  Maddey had better prepare herself to take notes, because this was going to be the sweetest victory of all.

  The tinkling sounds of feminine laughter trickled in, and heads snapped toward the open door as the girls stepped through. His eyes raked over the faces of the most important women in his life, aside from his mother, looking for the one vital to his existence. His heart sank when he didn’t see the flash of purple hair.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Holly worried the edge of the bandage wrapped around her wrist as she followed the girls through the tunnels of Madison Square Garden. No matter how many times they tried to reassure her Vince would be happy to see her, she couldn’t rid herself of the anxiety the thought of facing him again brought on.

  There was so much she'd done wrong in how she handled things.

  For starters, she left.

  She told him she loved him and left. She didn't even want to think about the fact that the first time she told him she loved him was in a video message while she dumped him. There was not one thing she'd done right in that entire scenario.

  “Relax.” Rocky linked their arms. “He’s going to be beyond happy to see you.”

  “He’s got to be pissed.”

  “Not at you,” Rocky said with confidence. “Actually…if he is pissed, it’s going to be at me.”

  She snorted. “Why would he be pissed at you? You’re not the one who told him you loved him and then broke up with him in the same breath…over voicemail.”

  Rocky placed a hand over the swell of her belly as she laughed. “Whatever. He should be happy someone as awesome as you even wants to put up with his punk ass. But I’m the one to wrap his hands before a fight, and”—she pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time—“I’m cutting it a little close to when that needs to happen for him not to be freaking out. I’m sure he’ll forgive me when he realizes I’m late because I brought him you.”

  Rocky’s words washed over her, a soothing balm on each of her frayed edges.

  As each of the girls disappeared inside the room—the room where Vince was—she unlooped her arm from Rocky’s for her to go on. She needed a moment to compose herself.

  The man she loved was in there.

  The same man she loved and dumped.

  She left to protect him. Now she just needed to explain and beg for forgiveness.

  She could do this.

  She hoped.

  With a fortifying breath, she straightened the hem of her shirt and went to get her man.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Like a vision, there she was.

  Not giving one fuck about their audience, Vince strode across the room, wrapped an arm around Holly’s body, lifted her into his arms, pinned her to the wall, and crushed his mouth to hers.

  Mine.

  Vanilla and sugar filled his lungs and danced across his tastebuds as he devoured her mouth. In four days, he'd missed her taste more than the treats he denied himself during the three months spent in training camp.

  Everything in the room faded into the background, the hyperfocus he fought with taking over as he reacquainted himself with the flavor, the smell, the feel of his girlfriend.

  Four days.

  Four long, torturous days he was without her. Never again.

  She was his, and he was hers. And as soon as he could ask without worrying he’d scare her off, he was asking her to marry him. He needed her tied to him in every way.

  “Vincent.”

  The use of his full name spoken in his father's gruff voice was the only thing capable of penetrating. Not willing to part from Holly for a second, he maintained their position against the wall and turned his head to lock eyes with Papa Steele.

  “It’s time to get your hands wrap
ped.” He nodded toward the official from the UFC and his opponent's chief second standing inside the room.

  Arms crossed under her ass, he shifted them from the wall and carried Holly with him to the treatment table, setting her down in the spot Gage vacated, needing her close now that he had gotten her back.

  Automatically he held his hand out to his sister, keeping his focus on Holly, having done the hand wrap dance so many times it was muscle memory. “Nice of you to show up,” he said to his sister, eyes still on Holly.

  The thin, soft gauze of the base wrap circled his hand and wrapped around his wrist.

  “Yeah, well, I knew you needed to have your Cupcake”—clearly she meant his nickname for Holly and not the actual treat—“before the fight, so I went and got it.”

  He loved his sister something fierce.

  His fingers spread as she threaded the gauze between them, then he clenched them into a fist to keep it from getting too tight and affecting his circulation.

  “Good lookin’ out, sis,” he relented, unable to hold on to his anger now that his other half was back with him.

  The gauze layer was signed off by the official, and Rocky set to work with ten feet of surgical tape on top. She completed one hand fully before moving onto the next.

  Once both hands were signed with black Sharpie, he was able to slip on his black fingerless gloves, then the UFC official and O'Doyle's chief second left the room. After they were gone, he hooked an arm around Holly’s middle and pulled her over to straddle his lap where he sat on the table. Her gasp of shock filled his ears, causing his lips to tip up.

  His grin turned into a full-fledged smile when he saw how wide her whiskey-colored eyes were. Male pride filled him at the swelling in her berry-hued lips, no doubt thanks to him claiming them. He yearned for more.

  His heart skipped a beat, and he barked out a laugh as he read the writing on her v-neck t-shirt. Written in the blue, yellow, and red color scheme of Superman were the words, 'I’m just a Cupcake looking for her Stud Muffin.' The wrapper on the cupcake had little Superman emblems on them, and the muffins had Steele printed over and over.

  “You know I fucking love this, right?” He ran a finger around the muffin printed near her belly button. “Almost as much as I love you.”

  “I love you too, Muffin.” Her mouth quirked the way it always did when she used the nickname. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it soo—”

  He cut off her apology with a kiss.

  The last thing he wanted was for the first time he got to hear those three magical words spoken in person to be tainted with an apology. Just hearing them uttered in her soft voice had his heart swelling three sizes like the Grinch.

  Her hands came up and fisted in his Superman-inspired shirt. His own hands trailed down the silky skin of her arms, over the bump of her elbow before coming to rest over her slender wrists. The crinkle of bandages wrapped at the base of each hand had him pulling back.

  Cradling her wrists, he lifted them for inspection, his heart straight up stopping at the sight of the harsh white bandages wrapped and taped all the way around her wrists—both wrists. The implications had bile churning in his gut, and he had to choke it back.

  What the fuck had his girl gone through while she was gone?

  HOLLY TREMBLED IN Vince’s arms, the look of devastation on his face as he looked at her wrists rocked her to her core.

  Does he know what I did? Is he mad?

  She swallowed thickly, barely managing it around the elf-sized lump in her throat.

  “Holly.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was the use of her actual name or the almost broken way he said it that sent a shiver of pain skirting down her spine. He sounded nothing like the cocky fighter she had grown to love.

  “Vin? What’s wrong?” The words whipped out of her.

  “It—what—how?” He spoke in a staccato, his eyes not once leaving the bandages.

  “Vin?” She tried again, attempting to lift her hands to cup his face, but his hold was too firm. “Do they really upset you that much?” She choked back a sob, unsure what she was supposed to do if he answered yes.

  “Upset?” His voice rose as his agitation escalated, and thunderclouds swirled in his gray eyes when they snapped to hers. “Upset? You’re damn fucking right I’m upset. Wait… No.” He shook his head. “Upset is too tame of a word for what I’m feeling right now, Holly.”

  Shit. Way to go, Hol. It’s not like it’s permanent or anything.

  “I can’t believe you can even ask me that right now.” His thumbs ghosted over the inside of her wrists.

  “I didn’t think you’d be so bothered by it.”

  He reared back in shock. The thunderclouds rolled as they locked back on her.

  “Bothered?” The look he gave her was so savage it was no wonder he never lost a fight. Having that look turned on her when she knew he loved her, she could only imagine what his opponents felt like having it trained their way. “Well, aren’t we the queen of the understatement right now.” His knuckles went white as they tugged at the longer hair on top of his head.

  “I mean—” she tried again, only to be cut off.

  “If this is what they fucking did to you, why would you go back to them?”

  Wait? What?

  “What are you talking about?”

  He continued on like she hadn’t spoken.

  “Fuck, Holly.” Another tug on his hair. “It was bad enough having you leave, knowing you wanted me to wait to come after you. But what the fuck?” His gaze was probing. “How the fuck do you think I would have felt when I finally was able to come get you and you were wearing bruises from them?”

  Her brain scrambled to put the puzzle pieces together.

  “Vin.”

  He ignored her to stare at her hands.

  “Vin.”

  Now he wasn’t even looking at her.

  “VINCENT!”

  His eyes finally snapped to hers.

  She yanked until he relented his hold on her wrists. She went to work loosening the tape securing the bandages, her movements jerky as she unraveled the adhesive.

  “No one hurt me. That’s not what these are from.” She peeled back both bandages. “Look.”

  He stubbornly refused to look down at her wrists. A growl of frustration escaped her throat at his obstinance.

  She shoved her wrists in his face, so close he wouldn’t be able to focus on what she was trying to show him, but hoping it was enough to get him to pay attention.

  “I’m. Not. Injured. I’m inked.”

  Her friends giggled in the background, not even trying to pretend they weren’t listening to every word. Good. She might need them to knock some sense into her boyfriend if he was determined to act like an idiot.

  “W-What?”

  There he is. Nice of you to pay attention.

  “They didn’t hurt me. They never got the chance. You made sure of that.” The conviction rang out with each word she spoke. He might literally be the fighter in their relationship, but she was no shrinking violet. It may have taken her twenty-three years to stand up for herself, but now that she had, she was never stopping. Even though she did leave, it was always her plan to make it back to him.

  His calloused thumb stroked along the outline of the small black witch’s hat she had tattooed on her right wrist like the other Covenettes.

  “You know what this means, right?” Awe-filled eyes bounced between the tattoo and her face. “It’s official. You’re stuck with us for life now. Tattoos are permanent, you know?”

  Yeah, she had been well aware of that fact as the needles went to work marking her forever. She had to bite her tongue to keep from quoting Rachel Green when she and Phoebe got tattoos and said they were licked on by kittens.

  “Are you saying you don’t like it?”

  “Are you crazy?” His head shook frantically. “I fucking love it.”

  “Good.”

  Now for the part that might make her seem crazy.


  “Well…I hope you still feel that way when you see the other one I had done.”

  She brought his attention to her left wrist, the skin still pink around where she had Muffin’s inked in black script across it. She'd taken the personalization a step further and had the possessive "s" shaped into a mini Superman emblem.

  It was his turn for his eyes to go wide like a cartoon character.

  “Marry me.”

  Okay, so he wanted to be the insane one in the relationship obviously.

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Marry me.”

  “Oh my god. This is totally going in one of my books.” Maddey’s attempt at whispering failed.

  “Not now, Madz,” Vince called out before returning his steely gaze to her. “I’m serious, Cupcake. Marry me.”

  “And I’m serious, Muffin. No, I will not marry you. It’s way too soon.”

  “But it wasn’t too soon to get my name tattooed on you?” One of his black brows lifted with the admittedly perfect counter-argument. Damn him.

  “Fine.” She relented with an attempt to scowl. “Think of it as a promise ring of sorts.”

  “Promise ring.” Jase snorted.

  “How high school virgin of them,” Deck added and the room lost it in big, leg-slapping guffaws.

  “You need romance, man,” Gage choked out through his laughter.

  “Says the guy who proposed inside the cage after a fight,” Vince grumbled.

  “Hey.” She turned to find Gage grinning like a schoolgirl as he stood with his arms wrapped around Rocky. “She said yes, so clearly I have more game than you.”

  Vince’s gloves creaked as he flipped off his brother-in-law, and she couldn’t stop her own laugh from breaking free.

  “You find this amusing, do you?” Her nipples puckered and her clit throbbed at the dark promise she heard lurking in his words.

  “A little.” She held her fingers about an inch apart.

  “Well, you know what this means now?”

  She shook her head, not at all sure how far he would take things in front of an audience.