Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(64)

“You don’t know what you could have done. My life right now is so precarious.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, sadness in her eyes. “If he decides to slap out at me because he’s insulted you got involved? What then? It’s a delicate balance, and I’m terrified you upset it.”

“I did it because I love you. Because I hate that you feel dependent on that * for money to live. And because I want you to depend on me instead.”

That made her turn around fully. Her face was flushed. With anger? With shock? “What?”

“You heard me.” He took her hands, ignoring that they trembled. “I love you. I know this is fast. I know you haven’t said it yourself yet. I tell myself you love me, too, and you’re just cautious because you’ve got so much on your plate to worry about. But I know, without a doubt, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and she bit it before looking away. He caught her chin in one hand and forced her eyes back to his.

“I want to marry you. I want you and Zach to live here. I want you to keep teaching yoga if you want, or quit and run the blog and help other allergy moms advocate for their kids. I want you to know you never have to worry about that scumbag again for money. Because I have you, and you’re precious to me. You both are. And what’s precious to me, I protect.”

“God,” she croaked out, taking a step back. “Now? Right now? You’re getting on a plane in, like, eight hours.”

“I won’t, if you ask me not to.” He meant it. If she asked him to stay, he would. Boxing was his hobby, and competing at this level was a dream. But Kara was his future. Her needs, her wants, her everything came first.

That made her gasp a little. “I would never do that. Stop,” she said with more bite to her tone when he took a step toward her. “I can’t do this right now. You . . . you need to get on that plane and go to Texas and have your space and figure . . .” She waved at the space between them. “Figure this out more concretely with space between us. It’s too hard when we’re still high from the pheromones and I have your body wash on my skin and . . .”

She was near tears now. He’d made her cry, and he couldn’t figure out how so he could stop doing it and never do it again. “Baby, please don’t.”

“No. This is going to stop for tonight. You need distance and I need clarity.” She backed away toward the door, as if not wanting to turn her back on him. “I want you to kick some ass in Texas, okay?”

She wiped away a tear, and it broke his heart. “I’ll call you when I land.”

Kara nodded, but didn’t say good-bye as she closed the door behind her.

He’d royally f*cked that up. Something about the best intentions made him a total sucker.

She wanted him to have distance? It was the last thing he wanted. The last thing he believed either of them needed. But fine. He’d compete. He’d go to Texas and kick ass, as she’d requested.

But when he returned, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.





CHAPTER


19

“If we were real ballers,” Tressler said, settling down in the seat in front of Graham, “we would be flying private.”

“We’re not ballers,” Brad said, sounding disgusted. “And the day the military has the money to fly us private anywhere is the day we know something has gone very, very wrong in Congress.”

“Isn’t something always wrong in Congress?” Greg asked.

“Stop talking politics,” Graham muttered. He just wanted to wait for takeoff, take his motion sickness medication and pass the f*ck out and not listen to these idiots anymore.

“Grumpy.” Tressler, He of Little Sense, leaned over the back of his seat. “What crawled up your ass and died? We’re finally going. It’s our time, baby.”

“Did you get more stupid in the last week, or am I just that much more annoyed with you?” Graham wondered out loud.

“Both,” Greg and Brad said together.

Tressler flopped back down with a huff, grumbling about old men who couldn’t take a damn joke.

“Okay, but really, what crawled up your ass and died?” Brad asked across the aisle, leaning back for someone to pass through. “You said you hate flying, and you’re clutching that packet of Dramamine like it’s a gold nugget. But that’s not all, is it?”

“Maybe I had a rough day off yesterday. Maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe,” he said through his teeth, “I want everyone to mind their business.”

Greg snorted. “Bullshit. The day we mind our own business is the day we stop caring. And we love you, man.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

Greg settled against the window of their two-seat row. “Did you have a fight with Kara?”

“Drop it.”

“You both had so much to say when I was doing battle with Cook, and now you can’t take the heat yourself.” Brad’s self-satisfied smirk made Graham want to reach across the aisle and choke him. His teammate’s saving grace was the numerous people filing through, preventing him from doing so. Also, he’d have to let go of his Dramamine, and that wasn’t happening.

Greg reached in his bag under the seat in front of him and pulled out a thick book. Brad reached in front of Graham—which made him want to slam his hand down on the tray and lock it upright—and asked, “Did you take my book?”