Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(69)

I don’t stay in the apartment for long. I can’t stand being cooped up by myself anymore. If Oscar or Brawler were with me, I’d be fine, but not by myself. Not now, anyway.

I send Johnny a text, telling him I’m going to the school football game and that I’m alone for the moment. I do it to cover Brawler’s ass. He doesn’t need to get in trouble because I left without him. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to see me right now anyway.

A response pings through immediately after. I’ll send Magnum.

I stop in the stairwell of the building to type out: You don’t have to. I kind of want to do this by myself. Plus, Oscar will be there.

My phone rings in my hand as I’m slipping it into my pocket after sending the last text. Johnny sounds agitated. “I don’t want you to be alone right now. It’s dangerous.”

I bite back a groan and lower my voice as I cross the street away from my building. “Hey, I’ll be okay,” I say. “I mean, I’m tough enough to fight, right?”

“Fists don’t stop bullets, babe.”

His term of endearment makes a short smile flicker across my lips. “I don’t want to be cooped up in my apartment forever, Johnny. You can see that, right?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” he says. “What do you think about moving into the tower with me?”

I swallow. “The tower?”

“You know, my place.”

The back of my neck bristles. I can’t move in with him. Even if that will put me in a prime place to see K. Actually, fuck that. I can move in with him, can’t I? My mind wanders to Oscar and Brawler. If I can kill Big Daddy K sooner rather than later, would they come with me?

Jesus. What the hell am I thinking? They both have lives here. I’m the only one who doesn’t.

“My dad will probably want us to wait until after the fight at least. I don’t know. It’s just a thought.”

“What would that change for me?” I ask, biting my lip. Johnny wants me to live with him. It’s so stupid but tears come to my eyes. This is the first time someone’s expressed it like that to me. I settle my beating heart and return to the conversation. “If I move in, I’ll just have to stay in your place instead of mine.”

“I’ll get you your own bodyguard.”

“No,” I say right away. That has done nothing but make things more fucking difficult for me. I don’t need another guy I’ll be staying with, trust me. I don’t want to keep my hands to myself on the two I have.

“Kyla…”

“So, I am really fighting, right?”

“Yes,” he says, his tone clipped. He still doesn’t sound very happy about it, but it’s his father’s decision, and he knows it. “I’m sending Magnum. Bye, Kyla.”

He ends the call. I pull the cell phone away from my ear and stare at the screen before shoving it into my back pocket as I approach the school. Whatever. I don’t know why I thought he would let me get away with this.

There are fewer cars in the parking lot than normal. I follow the sparse crowd to the back of the school as a sharp whistle pierces the air.

The field is small, and the crowd doesn’t even fill the few seats the bleachers have. I guess there’s way more important things for people to do than go to a football game on Friday night. Hell, there are more people crowded in the old, abandoned warehouse when the fights are taking place than there are here right now.

This whole fucking city is backwards.

I walk right up to the chain-link fence that separates the crowd from the players. Scanning the uniformed athletes, I look for someone who looks like he’s as important as the quarterback should be. I’ve missed a little of the game. A quick check of the scoreboard tells me it’s the second quarter. In front of me, the Rawley Heights players are just coming off the field. I’ve never been a big sports person unless it’s fighting, so I don’t even know if it’s the offense or the defense coming off until a guy takes his helmet off, and I clearly see Oscar.

My heart skips a beat. I stick my hand in the air and wave. I catch his attention, and his eyes round. He searches my vicinity, and when he doesn’t see anyone, he jogs up to the fence. Behind him, his coach is calling his name, but he ignores him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. Sweat beads over his upper lip. His usual pristine hair is matted to his head.

“I told you I wanted to come.”

“Where’s Brawler?” Then, his eyes round in understanding. “He’s pissed at you.”

My stomach dips. I’m pretty sure he is pissed at me and who knows if he’ll ever get over it.

As if reading my thoughts, Oscar says, “He’ll get over it.”

I shake my head. “I just wanted to see you play.”

His already reddened cheeks seem to glow like I’ve just given him the best compliment in the world. “No one’s with you though,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Johnny’s sending Magnum to meet me.”

Oscar groans, his lips tipping up at the corners. “He’s a lively one. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun.”

He moves in closer. My body remembers what it felt like earlier, and every nerve comes to attention. He’d be stupid to do anything here, but sometimes I think Oscar’s brazen enough to do just that. He’s reckless, and damnit if I don’t want to be reckless with him.