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“Why did you look at me like that?” I ask. “Why did you seem so shocked when I touched you?”
His lips form a thin line. “A story for another day.”
“Oscar,” I plead. Time’s running out, and Johnny could be coming back any moment, but this is too important not to talk about right now. “Tell me.”
I reach up to cup his cheek, and he holds my palm there. His skin is hot, burning up. He turns his face to kiss the inside of my palm. “Let’s just say I’ve been with a lot of selfish women.” He squeezes my hand and then drops it, striding toward the other side of the room where he unlocks the door, ending the conversation.
I turn back toward the mirror and replace the skirt of my dress back down my legs. It isn’t long, but it certainly won’t bode well for Oscar and I if it remains around my hips. “I’ll take that answer for now,” I tell him, holding his gaze. I make quick work of my makeup as Oscar watches. The hairs on the back of my neck stand the whole time. I do a halfway decent job of blow drying my hair—yes, whoever set this up for me has thought of everything—but I leave it somewhat wet, touch up the powder on my face, and then coat my lips with a fun shade of red.
When I turn, Oscar’s pants are still bulged in front of him. Johnny hasn’t returned even though I’m sure the fifteen minutes is up. Neither Johnny nor his father is ever very good at telling people how long things will take.
“You’re by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
My skin sprouts with goosebumps. The urge to thank him for saying that overwhelms me. I want to thank him for pleasuring me by getting down on my knees and taking him into my mouth, but I don’t even need to list all the ways that’s a bad idea.
A knock sounds on the door, and Oscar closes his eyes briefly.
“It’s Johnny.”
Oscar mouths something to me. I can’t be sure what he’s said, but I read the word everything.It’severything?You’reeverything? I can’t ask him because he’s already opened the door, revealing a waiting Johnny.
Johnny’s lip quirks up. Oscar studies us as he moves forward. His hand curls to the small of my back as he looks me over appreciatively. “Ready?”
I nod, fighting the urge to look at Oscar.
We walk from the room. “You too, Bat,” Johnny says, calling for Oscar to follow us. “We’re all celebrating.”
I search the main area for Brawler and find him talking with a few people with cleaning supplies in their hands. When he sees me, his gaze zeroes in. “Nice fight, Kyla.”
Johnny hugs me tighter, beaming. Brawler nods at Oscar, and Oscar returns it. At least in that they’re on the same side. They can put aside their differences when they’re worried about me. Though, they shouldn’t be. Johnny’s not going to let anything happen to me, even if it is more about his own ego than his love for me.
When we’re seated in the car for the short drive to Candy’s, Johnny makes sure I’m plastered to his side. There are a few other bodyguards in the back with us, including Magnum. “Nice fight,” he says, echoing what Brawler just said.
“Did you catch it?” I ask.
He nods. “I was up in the box.”
I grin at him, letting everyone’s praise flow through me. This is the first time I’ve had people around me whose praise and encouragement I wanted. My aunt and uncle never used to come to my fights. Hell, they didn’t even know about them. I’ve been in the underground circuit a long time. Just not here. They’d see me come home with black eyes, and I’d make up excuse after excuse. Bullying at school. Accidents. You name it, I used it just to get out of the inevitable conversation.
Sanctioned fights were never really my thing, but that could be because it’s difficult as fuck to get fights in the normal competition circuits. There aren’t a lot of female fighters, and I couldn’t make a splash out in the real world where someone could easily trace me when I made my move to the Heights. I had to keep under the radar as much as I could. I cut my teeth on fighting back home though it was nowhere near what it’s like here. Even when I fought Cherry, that was the biggest fight I’d had to date.
For Johnny’s part, he’s playing the doting, proud boyfriend well. Except, it’s not an act for him. I know how proud he is of me. But it also sucks that he’s got something to gain from my fighting, too. It makes his reactions not as genuine as the others, even though they very well might be.
The night at Candy’s consists of rounds and rounds of alcohol being delivered to our table. The waitress keeps announcing who’s bought me the next drink, but they are all names I don’t recognize. Except for Joe Dunnegan. I recognize his. He lifts a glass to me, and I do the same, taking a sip of the dark amber liquid before turning toward Mag and whispering, “Told you I could drink.”
“I know. Fuck the rules,” he whispers back.
Tonight at Candy’s isn’t a normal night though. Sure, there are women dancing on the stage, but there are more bodies in here than ever, all of them writhing against one another, dancing with each other instead of focusing on the stage. Johnny was the only reason we could score a booth to sit in. The regular customers don’t seem to mind all the newcomers because scantily clad women accompanied all the bloodthirsty men from the warehouses, and those ladies aren’t as untouchable as the ones on stage. Tonight is more like a nightclub with naked entertainment than a chill place to sit back and get your rocks off while watching women dance.
“Look what you did,” I tell Johnny, gesturing toward the bodies in the room. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”
Even Dunnegan himself couldn’t look more pleased. He’s already returned to our table a few times, telling Johnny that Candy’s should always host my after parties. Johnny looks to me as if I have a say in the matter, but I agree anyway. It just makes good business sense.
Why I’m worrying about making the Heights Crew money is beyond me. I tell myself it’s not for them at all. It’s for Johnny. Just like he watched me kick that girl’s ass, pride beaming from him, I feel the same as I watch everyone in this room have a great time because of him. I bet this place has their best week yet. Not that it’s not always a moneymaker. Sex sells. I’m not naïve about that. But tonight, Johnny dropped the cover charge, and the liquor is flowing like nature’s waterfalls.
An hour into our celebration, the crowd is pushed back as more of the Crew’s guys filter into our space. I almost stop breathing when a familiar face follows a horde of black-clad bodyguards. Johnny nudges me so we can slip out the side of the half moon table. Johnny lifts his hand to greet his father with a handshake while K inspects the room. “Good job, my boy,” he says, his other hand landing solidly on his son’s shoulder.
“Kyla,” he says, addressing me with a short nod and smile. “You fought very well tonight.” He slides his gaze down my body. It’s only cursory, but it slips a wedge of unease through me. No one wants to be ogled by their boyfriend’s father unless their boyfriend’s father is Jensen Ackles. Let’s get real.