Fighting for Everything: A Warrior Fight Club Novel

by Laura Kaye

  Her heels clicked against the floor.

  Noah chanced a glance. Back on her feet again. “Grab your ice and let’s go. Fucking sub shop.” He left out the door before he changed his mind.

  Out on the street, the sun still shined over the summer evening. Kristina sighed and started back the way they came.

  “Where are you going?” Noah asked.

  “Oh,” Kristina said, turning. “Um, I figured home?”

  Home had privacy. Home had a bed. Home seemed…very, very bad right now. “Ice cream’s this way,” he said, pointing in the other direction. “Unless your hand hurts too much?”

  “Pfft,” she said, rolling her eyes. “On my death bed, I will want chocolate in any and every form. Remember that.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Don’t joke about that right now. So, you still game or what?” he asked, her attempt at humor not helping him unwind. Not one bit.

  “I guess,” she said, eyeballing him like she could see all the things he thought but didn’t say. “Just didn’t think you would be.”

  Noah came close, and leaned down so he could meet her eye to eye. “You want chocolate. I want to give you what you want. Simple as.”

  The words hung there, and Kristina blinked up at him as innocently as she could. Because she definitely had wants. And, right or wrong, they didn’t involve anyone named Ben or Jerry. “Anything I wan—”

  “I swear to God, Kristina, if you finish that sentence…” He planted his hands on his hips and glared.

  She was pretty sure she was supposed to be intimidated right now. Except, all his aggressiveness was doing funny things to her. She’d never seen Noah like this before, and it was making her want to challenge him. Making her want him to lose control. Making her yearn for him to come at her with all that pent-up angst.

  Friends. Friends. We’re just friends.

  Yeah. Friends whose kisses alone made her wet. Crap.

  “Fine, get me ice cream,” she finally said, trying not to pout as she adjusted the ice against the back of her hand. Kristina couldn’t believe she’d been hit by that idiot. If Noah hadn’t been there…if he hadn’t seen what was happening and pulled her out of the way… She shook her head and peered under the ice. Around the bandages, her puffy skin was turning purple.

  They started walking. “How’s it feeling?” Noah asked, his tone less intense than it’d been a minute ago.

  “Probably a lot like yours did after you punched the wall,” she said. She peered up at him, eyebrow arched. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone there, but damnit, just how many things between them were going to be off the table? “Except you didn’t have me to take care of you after.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t there,” he said, but then he took the sharp edge off the words by taking her good hand in his.

  “I want to take care of you too, you know. That’s what friends do for each other,” she said, realizing she had her own pent-up frustration that needed venting. Not just of the sexual kind, either, though that was definitely there. Because, holy hell, the way Noah had claimed her in that office had been one of the most incredible moments of her life. Even now, her lips still tingled from his rough, demanding kisses. Kristina had been so lust-drunk that she would’ve welcomed Noah between her thighs right there on sweet Mr. Johnson’s desk.

  But there was also her pent-up worry for Noah. Pent-up disappointment in all the times she’d been sure he was avoiding her. Pent-up concern that, even now, he was still holding her at a distance. Despite the fact that he was holding her hand.

  Noah didn’t answer her, and they fell quiet as they walked down the hill to the bottom of King Street. The warmth of his big hand around hers offered a nice distraction from the throb of her other hand. The ice had helped, as would some Ibuprofen when she got home, though she was pretty sure the best pain reliever would be the one she couldn’t have—Noah finishing what he’d started. Twice, now. Because she hadn’t even been able to feel the pain in her hand when he’d been kissing her.

  Kristina paused when they finally reached the Ben & Jerry’s store. “This bag is starting to leak everywhere. I’m gonna chuck it. I can put more on later if I need to.”

  “I’ll take it,” Noah said. He retreated down the sidewalk to the nearest trash can, and Kristina tried really hard not to stare at his ass as he went. But the guy did all kinds of justice to a pair of jeans. And she was horny as hell after her second make-out session of the week with him. And even more confused.

  Why did this keep happening? And would it really be such a problem if they let it go even further? Because it was clear there was something between them. Something more than what had ever been there before.

  Inside, they got in line and stared up at the board of flavors. “What are you getting?” she asked.

  “Cookie dough,” he said.

  Kristina smiled up at him. “I think you’ve gotten that every time we’ve ever been here.”

  He cocked a playful eyebrow, and it eased the strange tension between them. “Then why did you ask?”

  She bumped into him and rolled her eyes. “Because maybe at some point you’ll want to try something new. Smart ass.”

  The line moved, and Kristina moved with it. Standing right behind her, Noah said, “But what if I tried something new and didn’t like it as much? What if I tried something new and it messed up my old favorite? Because I couldn’t live without my old favorite.”

  Kristina’s heart suddenly slammed against her breastbone.

  There was no way Noah was talking about chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream right now. Was there? It sure as hell didn’t feel that way. She went to turn, but Noah planted his hands on her shoulders, keeping her facing forward. Facing away.

  “Um,” she said, struggling to respond with all his muscled heat pressed against her back. “But trying something new doesn’t mean you have to give up your old favorite, does it? It would just give you something new to have in addition.”

  What exactly was she advocating here? That they should explore the crazy sexual tension pinging between them and see where it led? That they should give in, just once, just to get it out of their system? Or that they give friends with benefits a try? This was all so unexpected that she honestly wasn’t sure.

  “Can I help you?” the girl behind the counter asked, smiling at Kristina.

  “Oh. Uh. Yes.” Kristina scanned the tubs of ice cream displayed in the case. “Can I please have a sugar cone with Chocolate Therapy and Hazed and Confused?” She gave a rueful chuckle as the girl worked on her cone. Those two ice creams summed up her state of mind pretty good just then.

  “What’s so funny?” Noah asked.

  “I think the ice cream’s talking to me,” Kristina said, finally peering over her shoulder to look at him. And Noah’s expression made her laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s a temporary condition.”

  Noah ordered his cone, and then they were out on the street again. The sun hung lower in the sky now, stretching the shadows across the ground.

  “I haven’t been down here in a long time,” Noah said. “Years.”

  “Wanna walk over to the waterfront?” she asked. He nodded, and they crossed the street to the brick-paved promenade that fronted the Potomac River. The breeze off the water kicked up runaway strands of her hair. “For the record, holding an ice cream cone in my left hand is very weird. It’s throwing off my ice cream mojo.”

  “You have ice cream mojo?”

  Kristina chuckled. “Not right now I don’t.” She shifted the cone to her right hand, but trying to curl her fingers around it was awkward with the bandages and felt a little like someone had taken a hammer to the back of her hand. She stuck out her bottom lip.

  Noah almost managed a small smile, but the effort made his expression look sad. “I’m sorry you got hurt. Wish it had been me instead.”

  The fury that lanced through Kristina took her by surprise. She whirled on him. “Don’t ever say something like that again, Noah. You’ve bee
n hurt enough for a lifetime. Imagine what it was like knowing my best friend had been blown up and lay all alone fighting for his life in a hospital half a world away. I would’ve given anything for that not to have happened to you. Even now that you’re doing better, I would still give anything to be able to take it all back for you. So don’t think for a minute that I’d ever want you to get hurt in my place. I would give you my eye and my ear if I could.”

  Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, but she was so overwhelmed with emotion for him that she couldn’t hold all this in. Not anymore. Damn, she hadn’t even realized just how much she’d been bottling up all these months.

  Peering down at her, Noah’s brown eyes blazed. “Kristina,” he said, voice strained.

  She blew out a long breath, suddenly afraid of what he might say. Because she wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to fight for their friendship, or fight for something more. “Forget it. I’m just upset over my hand. And my messed-up ice cream mojo.”

  Noah shook his head. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, and then he finally spoke. “You’re…you’re a good friend. The best. I’m sorry I said that.”

  His words unleashed a sinking feeling in Kristina’s belly, revealing more about what she hoped he might want than she was maybe ready to admit. But she forced a happy face and said, “I feel the same way about you. No matter what.”

  Chapter Six

  Noah’s weight pressed Kristina into the soft bedding, and she loved the feeling of him on top of her. His kisses were feverish and rough, his tongue plundering her mouth until she could barely breathe, his stubble rasping against her chin and cheeks and neck. She wouldn’t have changed a thing about any of it.

  He worked kisses down her throat to her chest, shedding her clothing piece by piece as he moved. A hot thrill shot through her when his chin scratched against the soft skin of her belly, soothing, wet kisses following close behind. She spread her thighs to make way for his big shoulders, her whole body trembling at the promise of what Noah was about to do.

  He stared up her body, dark eyes hot with intensity. “I will always take care of you,” he bit out.

  “I know,” Kristina whispered, her hand stroking his hair.

  Noah lowered his mouth to her core, and Kristina lifted her hips, dying for that first touch, for his mouth to devour her.

  Oh, please please please…

  Kristina whimpered. Her eyes blinked open. And she almost cried.

  Despite the very real arousal flooding through her, Kristina was alone in her bedroom. No Noah. No about-to-be-amazing orgasm. No fantasy come true.

  Breathing harder than normal, she curled onto her side and drew up her knees. The LED screen of her alarm clock read 6:05. So much for sleeping in on a Saturday morning.

  Now she was awake and horny over a man she wasn’t supposed to want. If she didn’t live in an apartment building with close neighbors on every side, Kristina would’ve been tempted to scream in frustration.

  Part of her almost wished Noah had never kissed her last Monday night, because then maybe she wouldn’t be feeling this constant, impossible yearning for him now. No other man had ever driven her to such great distraction, and no man had ever invaded her dreams this way. It made her wonder if any other man ever would.

  Or ever had before.

  She thought back over her past relationships. About six months after Noah had left for the Marines during her junior year of college, there’d been Brent, who was a year older and had already been accepted for graduate school at Cambridge University in the UK. Kristina had always known she had no intentions of following him out of the country, but they’d had a lot of sex that spring semester. Because she’d known it was inevitable, her sadness at his departure hadn’t lasted that long.

  Half-way through her senior year, she’d had what she’d then thought was a hot fling with a guy named Carter, a sophomore frat brother with a penchant for making out and having sex in places where they might get caught—a classroom after hours, the student newspaper offices, a bathroom during a party, his Jeep up at the lake. He’d been fun and she’d felt kinda daring being with him, but it had never gone deeper than that. And with all those quickies, she’d faked more than a few orgasms to keep him from feeling bad when she couldn’t get there fast enough.

  Then there’d been John, who she’d met at a bar while out with some work friends one Friday night. John had been…nice. A few years older. Steady job as a patent officer. Handsome enough. And they’d both enjoyed trying out new restaurants. But his kisses had left her…underwhelmed. There was nothing wrong with him, but then he’d said he thought they should just be friends because he didn’t see them going anywhere. Her ego had been a little bruised, but truth be told, she hadn’t been upset. Not really.

  There’d been other dates with other guys—some she’d met on her own, some her friend Kate had set her up with—but nothing she’d ever thought had the potential to turn into something more, something lasting, something like…the kind of connection she had with Noah.

  Even before they ever kissed.

  Kristina pushed the covers off and sat up in her bed as a sinking feeling curled into her stomach.

  All this time, she thought she’d really been out there. Dating. Searching. Giving happily ever after a genuine, honest try. But looking back now, all of those relationships seemed pale and shallow compared to what she had with Noah—in general and just this past week.

  Was it possible that…she’d been the problem in all those relationships? The reason they hadn’t been deeper, more fulfilling, longer lasting? Was it possible…could it be…that she’d been holding back? Or holding everyone else up to the same relationship standards she had with her best friend? The deep, long-time knowledge, including some of the most private, hurtful parts of herself and her family. The unconditional acceptance. The inherent trust. The natural way they clicked, no special effort required.

  Kristina’s gaze scanned over her dresser, jam-packed with some of her favorite framed photographs. There was one with her father holding her when she’d been an infant. It was her favorite picture of him because his eyes were clear, open, and free of the shadows cast by the mental illness that would get worse as she got older. There was one of her posing with her mom in front of her very first car, a small, red Saturn. There was another with her high school besties at graduation, all of them in their caps and gowns. And there was a dual frame with her and Kate in it—on one side, a picture in their dorm room freshman year; on the other, a picture from their senior week vacation at the beach.

  But most of the rest were with or of Noah Cortez.

  Kristina pushed out of bed and crossed to the dresser. Morning sunlight from the nearby window fell on the portrait of him in his Marine dress blues. So freaking handsome. There was one of them together in front of the Cortez Christmas tree when he’d been home on leave the year before he’d been discharged. Another was of his high school graduation, him in his gown, her in his cap. She’d been so crushed that she wouldn’t see him in school anymore as she had for so many years. Another was from before the high school Homecoming dance her freshman and his junior year, posing in the Cortez backyard before they caught up with the big group of friends with whom they were going.

  Kristina picked up a frame from the Magic Kingdom at Disneyworld. She’d gone with Noah and his family for a vacation in Florida when she’d been in eighth grade. It had all been sudden and unexpected, and Kristina later learned her mother had made it happen to protect her from knowing that her dad had hurt himself.

  Vacations. Dances. Holidays. Pictures of hanging out and goofing off.

  Noah. Noah. Noah. Noah.

  Would any other man ever measure up to him?

  Why had she never before asked this question?

  And did either of those even matter if he—they—thought they should remain just friends? Because she got his concerns about messing up the incredible thing they had. She really did.

  Retu
rning the frame to the dresser, Kristina sighed. These were not questions that could be answered without some serious caffeine on board.

  She flicked through social media while she drank her coffee and ate a blueberry yogurt, her mind circling around this whole situation. She opened up her text messages and began typing.

  I need girl time. You around this weekend? She shot the text to Kate.

  A few minutes later, Kristina got back, Absolutely! Tomorrow night work?

  Kristina smiled as she typed her reply. Yes. Dinner at The Grill?

  Yes. Cya soon!

  Feeling a little better, Kristina finished her breakfast, showered, and dressed. Popping some Ibuprofen, she decided to skip the bandages on her hand. She opened and closed her fist a few times and found that she was able to do so much more easily today. Aside from a dull ache beneath her knuckles, her hand seemed okayish. At this point, it looked worse than it felt.

  Noah would be over in the afternoon to get her desk and take her shopping, so she wanted to use the morning to pick up a housewarming gift for him. She hadn’t been sure what to get until they’d teased about spatulas, and now she had a fun idea that would hopefully make him laugh. Because Noah needed more laughter in his life right now.

  The truth of that unleashed an uncomfortable pressure inside her chest.

  As Kristina retrieved her purse from the kitchen counter, a packet of blue papers fluttered to the floor—the informational flyer she’d grabbed last night when she’d stopped into the Art Factory to fill out employment forms. She hadn’t known they offered a whole program of therapeutic classes specifically for veterans—in pretty much every form of creative expression, but given the large veteran community in Northern Virginia, she wasn’t surprised.

  On impulse, she’d grabbed the packet for Noah. No doubt he was going to laugh his ass off at her for even suggesting he consider taking an art class, of all things, but her gut told her he needed some sort of outlet for everything he was dealing with.

  The hole in the wall of his shower seemed to prove that.