by Anna Todd
Rat Dog, who was curled up in Nick’s hands, looked over his shoulder at you and licked the air. You locked eyes with Nick again and realized he’d been checking you out. The thick tension between the two of you was magnetic and dangerous and drew your eyes to parts of his body that you’d seen exposed in magazines. Letting Nick into your apartment would take a lot of trust on your part. Trust that you weren’t too sure he deserved yet. But your gut was telling you that Nick was a good guy. Deep, deep—like Grand Canyon deep—you felt something for him that was more than just attraction, and if you turned him down now, you would regret not hearing him out for the rest of your life.
“May I speak freely?” you asked softly, stepping to the side and swinging the door open wider for him to walk in. He towered over you and stopped when he was just past the door. He set Rat Dog down, and Rat Dog became uninterested in either of you and raced toward a pillow on the floor next to your bed.
“Of course,” Nick said.
“I still don’t like you. I just didn’t want to eat alone.”
“Translation: don’t try and get in my pants because I have pepper spray.” A smile twitched on his lips.
Your eyes went slightly wide. How the fuck did he know?
“I can see the outline of the bottle. And I understand. But I want you to know I’m not that type of guy.”
“Translation: I’m perfectly fine with your preferences, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying. Or slap your ass with my bo staff to make you feel like a lesser person.”
He ran a hand over his jaw. “I can’t apologize enough for that.”
“It’s all right, I’ll just have to get you back.” Had you seriously just said that out loud?
Now he was chuckling. “You really are something else, you know that?” He pulled a chair out from your small kitchen table, spun it around, and straddled it. For the first time ever, you were jealous of a chair. “It’s late. We’re just having a quick, friendly conversation. We’ll start off with that shiner on your face courtesy of Cesspool.”
He nodded to the chair next to him, and eventually you sat down and smacked the paper bag onto the table. Busted.
“Why?” he asked when you didn’t say anything. “Why would you go and fight at Cesspool? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“I can handle myself. I’m one of the best fighters there—”
“Your injuries say otherwise. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You just met me.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to care about your safety. I’ve heard some fucked-up stories about Cesspool.”
You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Listen, just because I’m a woman—”
“That has nothing to do with this. I trust you. I trust your skill and your capabilities, regardless of your gender, or I wouldn’t be here right now. I don’t trust the scum at Cesspool. I don’t want you in that ring because there’s a chance that some psychopath will go a little too far and kill you.”
Instantly, your mind went to Rhett. Then you thought of your father. Someone had gone too far and actually killed him.
“Well,” you say, “it’s a good thing this isn’t medieval times and you don’t own me. We live in a world where shit happens, Nick. People die in the most random and unexpected ways.”
“And people make stupid decisions when they don’t have anyone to remind them how important they are. Your life is important to me. It’s important to Max too.”
You stared at each other for a long time.
“What were you doing at Cesspool, anyway?” You pushed away from the kitchen table, found some aspirin over the sink, and searched the freezer for an icepack. Seconds later you swallowed a pill, downed half a glass of water, and held an icepack against your cheek. “Trying to pick up one of the trashy girls that the fighters sometimes drag along with them?”
“I’d heard about the arena from a friend and wanted to check it out. I won’t be going again.”
You sat in one of your kitchen chairs, pulled out a bagel from the bag. “Can’t afford to lose any more money?”
“No, the smell was horrible,” he said, ignoring your bitterness. “I didn’t bet anything. I just observed.”
“I know,” you admitted. “I saw you.”
“You did?”
“Yep.”
“Well.” He took his bagel out of the white paper bag. “I’ve seen you fight, and you fight hard. That wasn’t you out there tonight.” His smile was slow, almost devilish, as he came to some realization. “Wait a minute. . . . I fucked up your mojo tonight, didn’t I? I was probably the last person you wanted to see. . . .”
“Still are.”
He leaned forward on the table and lowered his voice. “That must be why you keep flirting with me.”
“You were doing so well.” You leaned toward him. “Then you got cocky. Aren’t you supposed to be winning me back for the center, or something?”
He chuckled. “I feel like you’re fighting real hard not to like me.”
“Eat your bagel.”
Nick blew out a frustrated breath and leaned back in his seat. You mimicked his position, too irritated to eat. From an outsider’s perspective, it appeared you were about to make a business deal. “All right, what’s it going to take?” Nick asked.
“What’s what going to take?”
“What’s it going to take to get you to come back? I need someone like you at the center. You’re passionate, tough, and you tell it how it is.” He raked a hand through his hair. “This whole situation is making me feel like shit. I know I really hurt your feelings. I’m sorry, I really am.”
You sipped your iced tea, wondering why you had ever been nervous in front of this man to begin with. The ball was in your court. He wanted you back. And it was starting to be clear that he cared about your opinion of him. If anything, he should have been nervous. He needed you. And you didn’t want to be the shy girl who let men—like Nick—push you around. Deep down, you knew you got a little more nervous around men than most women did because of Rhett and the way he treated you during your relationship. You couldn’t let that fear define you as a person and suppress your true self. Rhett was the past. Right now, in the present, it was time to show Nick who was really in charge.
“I want a rematch,” you finally said. “And this time, you have to be blindfolded. I also get to chain you to the ceiling like a piñata and whack at your dick with a bo staff.” You started to laugh loudly.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. Silence. Your expression remained calm, but your heart was smashing into your ribs. You couldn’t believe your own boldness, but it was too late to stop now.
“Tell me, Nicholas, are you frustrated that you’re not getting what you want?” You began to braid your wet hair to the side. “Because it seems to me that you want me back for another reason.” You fluttered your eyelashes. “Don’t give up yet. I bet you’d have any other girl’s legs up over your shoulders by now.”
“Nicholas?”
“That’s right.” You turned in your seat so that you were facing him. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I knew exactly what this was from the moment you walked in here.”
“And what exactly is this?”
“You’re trying to get in my pants!”
He burst out laughing. “You’re wrong, princess.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Now he was grinning again. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. Right now, this is all business.” He pushed your bagel closer to you. “Now why don’t you eat something? I can practically hear your stomach growling.”
You pushed the bagel back. “Call me princess again, and I’ll mix business with pleasure and knock your pretty teeth out,” you said pleasantly.
“You could try,” he challenged. “But we both know any attempts at knocking my pretty teeth out would end with your pretty ass pinned to the floor.”
Leaning in, you lowered your voice. “Would you like to test that?”
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He leaned in as well, putting your faces inches apart. “I don’t fight crippled women,” he whispered.
You looked at his lips. He looked at yours. Then you both looked up and locked eyes again. Thus began the most intense staring contest of your life. Cue The Good, the Bad and the Ugly showdown music.
Something snapped in you, and you pounced on Nick like a cat with its claws out, knocking him and his chair backward. You both toppled to the ground and wrestled like two wild animals. Eventually, you got him in a headlock and squeezed, trying to suffocate the laughter out of him. He was laughing. Instead of fighting your hold, Nick reached back and pinched your side, making you squeal with sudden laughter. He grabbed on to you and twisted his muscular body, bringing you with him and flipping you over onto your back. That knocked the wind out of you, and while you were stunned, he straddled your body and pinned your arms and legs. His breathing had accelerated, and when you looked up into his striking eyes, his pupils were expanded from arousal. Jesus Marie Christ. Your body reacted to him and you felt a steady need for him.
“Is that a nunchuck in your pants, or are you just happy to see—”
Nick kissed you hard on the mouth and ended your thoughts. Then he kissed you again and again. His tongue parted your lips and brushed up against yours, teasing and tasting. Nick’s fingers slid away from your wrists and gripped your lower back. His stubble deliciously scratched your skin as he moved his mouth from your lips to your jaw, and then finally, your neck.
Talk about a sweet spot. The secret was out. You loved neck kisses.
Shit, you abruptly thought. He didn’t know the truth about Rat Dog or how you were a massive fan of his. He didn’t know any of that, and it felt wrong to be intimate without laying everything on the table.
“I’m just happy to see you,” Nick finally replied, once he pulled back from your mouth. When you met his gaze, you thought of that time you touched yourself to his image. You cringed internally. You had to tell him, or the flashbacks would never end. “I usually don’t do this,” he was saying. “I mean, we barely know each other. Are you sure you want to—?”
“Yes, but I have to tell you something first that might complicate things,” you blurted out, breathing hard with adrenaline. You couldn’t keep it in any longer. You had to tell him everything. Everything. And it all came out in one big explosion of words: “I knew who you were before I met you. I follow you on Instagram. I knew you had a dog that looked like Joey. Hell, I knew in my gut it was Joey. But I was too afraid to tell you. You kept making me angry and I kept postponing asking you if you’d lost your dog. I mean, can you blame me, though? If I’d asked if you’d lost your dog, there’s a chance you would have known I was a fan, and that would have been really uncomfortable because we kinda hate each other. And what made it even more uncomfortable was that I have definitely looked at pictures of you while . . . you know.”
Throughout your confession, you’d watched Nick’s expression get more and more puzzled. He hovered over you, bracing himself on his hands, taking everything in. You were certain he was about to call the whole thing off, file a restraining order against you, and never speak to you again.
“So that’s why you ran from me when I met you? Because you were embarrassed?”
“Yes,” you said.
He sat back on his heels, expression flat. “I don’t know what to say.”
You wiped your hands over your burning face. “Me neither.”
Nick beamed and leaned toward you again, so that his mouth was at your ear. “I knew you were a fan the moment you called me a model. It was written all over your face. And as for keeping Joey from me, you took care of him. That’s all that matters to me.”
You were so relieved by this that you laughed. “I thought you were going to get so mad.”
“You thought wrong—”
“Wait, you knew I was a fan of you?”
“Yes.” His mischievous eyes grazed over your body, and then he kissed your neck again, biting at the skin a little. His voice dropped to something lower, huskier. “Now what was that about you . . . fucking yourself to an image of me?”
“You’re going to have to fight me for it,” you joked.
Nick stood up and offered you his hand. You took it and stood. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “You should be resting. I have no problem talking with you a little more and leaving. Or, I can just sleep over. I’m an A-plus cuddler. . . .”
“Are you serious?”
“What?”
“That felt like something out of a Hallmark movie. I want you. Take me. Not everyone has to take it slow. Sometimes a girl just wants to get laid. For example, me.”
He started toward you, but you stopped him with your hand. “And if you have a sudden change of heart and say you want to take things slower, when I’m as horny as I am right now, then I’m kicking you out of my apartment and taking matters into my own hands.” You smirked naughtily. “If you know what I mean.”
WITH RHETT, you’d eventually gotten used to being naked with him, but you could never recall feeling this nervous with him. Nick was special to you. You rarely trusted men. What made Nick an exception was that you mattered to him. He gave a shit, and that was hard to come by for you. Nick pulled out of you and wedged himself next to you on the small bed. “So much for mixing business with pleasure,” his deep voice rumbled at your ear, making you laugh.
You turned your face and held both sides of his jaw in your hands. “Nick.”
He kissed your collarbone. “Yes?”
“A rematch,” you said, drawing his attention back to you. “A rematch without you smacking my ass. If I win, I get to co-run the center with you. We can discuss my salary after I win.”
He moved up the bed, grinning over you. “You’re crazy.”
“What’s wrong, afraid you’ll lose?”
“You wish.” He brushed your hair with his fingertips. “I’m basically Savage, except cuter.” You started to playfully smack his shoulder, and his eyes narrowed as he snickered. “Say we do have this rematch and you win. I can’t just promote you like that. It’s immoral.”
“Bock, bock, bock, bock, bock—”
“What are you—?”
“Bock, bock, bock, bock—”
“Hey—”
“Bock, bock, bock—”
“Fuck, okay!” He pinched your lips together and you shook silently with laughter. “What do I get if I win this rematch of yours?”
You pulled his hand away from your mouth. “Name your price, lover boy. I’ve named mine.”
He raked your naked body and arched an eyebrow. “Dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“I get to take you to dinner. Anywhere I want. And I get to pick out your dress.”
You groaned. “A dress?”
“You don’t own dresses, do you?”
“I don’t even own heels.”
He snickered. “Well, boohoo, princess. If I win, you have to wear a dress. And heels.”
“So all you want is dinner?” you asked skeptically.
“Dinner, and then I get to ravish you at my apartment until the sun comes up. So technically, you won’t be wearing the dress or heels for long.” He stuck his hand out. “And you have to take your regular job back if I win. Deal?”
“Deal.”
THAT MORNING, you devoured your scrumptious everything bagel with vegetable cream cheese and took a shower. Or at least, you tried to take a shower, until Nick climbed in with you and insisted on cleaning you himself. Quickly though, you both had to settle down and take a miserable cold shower because the plumbing in your building sucked ass.
After getting dressed, you took a taxi to Nick’s apartment so he could get a fresh change of clothes and crate Rat Dog. Apparently, Rat Dog tended to act out when he was spoiled and carried around every day. Oops.
“Maybe Joey just likes me better,” you teased. “He never acted out with me.”
“That’s just beca
use Joey’s smart and loves being around gorgeous women.”
You smacked Nick’s arms as he snickered. His apartment smelled like his cologne and was filled with high-end leather furniture and dozens of boxes that were still unpacked. He led you by the hand to his bedroom, and your mouth fell open. His bed resembled a cloud of masculine blankets, raised up on a huge platform.
You catapulted onto the bed, lying across it starfish style. Nick disappeared into his closet and reappeared in a fresh gray sweatshirt and another pair of joggers. He laughed when he saw you.
“Comfortable, princess?”
You closed your eyes and pretended to snore.
Fifteen minutes later, you and Nick strolled side by side into the fitness center, like the king and queen arriving at their palace. Well, if a cold gym with sticky men and decor that was strictly limited to paint peeling off the walls could even be considered a palace.
You still didn’t work at the center anymore, but since Nick and you had agreed to a rematch, you’d arrived at the place early to fight. Other employees were there early, warming up, getting a quick workout in, and stretching. None of them were paying attention to you, but it would be rather awkward to start fighting in front of all of them. Still, you were giddy with excitement and couldn’t remember the last time you were so pumped to kick someone’s ass. Nick was done for.
Suddenly, you became aware of the bell that went off at the front of the center whenever someone entered the building. You turned to look over your shoulder to see who it was, and your smile fell.
Auburn hair. Green eyes. Disfigured nose. Bulky build.
You have to be fucking kidding me.
Emotions hit you at full force as you watched the man saunter farther into the center and look around. He met your gaze and your breath caught in your throat. A cruel smile curved his lips.
Rhett. Your psycho, abusive ex-boyfriend was in the center. Your center. He was in the same room with you, instead of rotting away in a jail cell like he should have been. You thought you would have a heart attack or a panic attack right then and there. Panic attack seemed more logical. Blood pulsed in your ears and your chest tightened with each quick breath you inhaled. One moment you’d been smiling and perfectly fine, and the next moment you were on the verge of breaking down.