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Laughter surrounds me, Jason’s antics getting a rise out of everyone at the table. He’s going on about how he’s been messing with the guys in the locker room, hiding their stuff, watching them lose their minds. Adam Morris is choking on his drink, trying to keep it together while Max Albright wipes tears from his eyes, howling. It’s stupid, but it’s exactly what we need after the show. We’re all loose, the weight of the nights matches finally off our shoulders, knowing we’ve got 72 hours to ourselves before the next one.

I sip my whiskey, savoring the sharp burn as it slides down my throat. No room for extras—no mixers, no unnecessary calories. Discipline. It’s the backbone of everything I do, and it doesn’t stop even on nights like this. I limit myself to one drink, I don’t like to be out of control, but I do enjoy the taste of fine whiskey. The glass is cool in my hand, condensation running down the sides, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

Then I see her.

Natalie.

When I spot her it’s like the entire bar shifts. The noise fades, the people blur, and all I see is her . That dress—black, tight, hugging every curve of her body like it was made just for her. Her blonde hair spills over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the low lights of the bar. She’s a vision, pure and simple. Stunning. My chest tightens, that primal feeling stirring deep inside me.

But I’m not the only one who notices her.

Kyle’s eyes are on her too, his gaze trailing over her in a way that makes my blood boil. I see him stand, his hulking form moving toward her, and without thinking, I rise from my seat, my focus locked on her. My body reacts before my mind does, instinct driving me forward.

She’s talking to Stephen, laughing at something he said, her lips parting in a smile that sends a wave of heat rushing through me. The pull toward her is undeniable, like a current dragging me under, and I’m not fighting it anymore. I’m going to take whats mine.

Just as I reach her, I feel a tug on my arm.

Chrissy.

Her tiny hand grips my forearm, and I glance down to see her wide, drunken smile, her hair wild around her face. Her drink sloshes in her other hand, spilling onto the floor.

“Dance with me, Ryan,” she purrs, her eyes glinting with something she thinks is seductive.

I grit my teeth, fighting back the irritation. “Not now, Chrissy. You’re drunk. Go have fun.”

She tries again, tugging harder, but I sidestep her, my focus snapping back to where Natalie was standing.

Except she’s gone.

I curse under my breath, scanning the room, my heart hammering in my chest. I need to find her. Now. My eyes dart through the crowd, and then I see him—Kyle, standing over her, his massive frame leaning into hers, one of his arms resting on her shoulder like he has some claim on her. Her body language is tense, her smile strained. She’s trying to be nice, but I can see the discomfort in the way she shifts.

A surge of possessiveness crashes through me, raw and primal. She’s not his. She shouldn’t be anywhere near him. I told her that already. I told her he wasn’t safe. I told her not to be alone with him.

I stalk across the room, my jaw clenched, my eyes narrowed. The music pounds, but all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears. When I reach them, I don’t waste time. I don’t ask questions.

“I need to talk to you,” I say, my voice sharp, cutting through the noise.

Kyle glares at me, but I don’t even give him a second glance. My eyes are on Natalie, on the way she blinks up at me, her cheeks flushing as she stammers, “Oh, okay.”

She looks so damn cute, her eyes wide, unsure. But that’s not why I’m here. There’s something deeper—something that goes beyond cute. It’s that pull again, dragging me straight to her. And Kyle? He’s a problem I don’t have time for. I’ll deal with him another time, in the ring. We’ll get it all out on the mat, once and for all.

He mutters something under his breath, but I ignore him. He’s lucky I’m not in the mood to deal with him right now. I grab Natalie by the wrist, gently but firmly, pulling her close as I steer us toward the far end of the bar. It’s quieter here, more private, the rowdy UXW crowd still in the background but muted by the distance.

We stop in a shadowed corner, the dim lighting casting soft lines across her face. My heart’s pounding, my body thrumming with energy I can barely contain. Her back hits the wall, and I step in close, my body just inches from hers.

I can feel the heat rolling off her skin. I can hear the quickened rhythm of her breath. She’s waiting, eyes wide and searching, and I can’t wait any longer.

My hands move on their own, cupping her face, my thumbs brushing against her soft skin. Her lips part, and before she can say anything, I close the distance. “Tell me I’m not the only one who feels it.” My voice is scratchy, my eyes searing into her.

“It’s all I can think about,” she admits softly.

I move in closer, and I kiss her, like I’ve been holding back for far too long. It’s hard and demanding, full of passion and heat, like I’ve been waiting for this moment forever.

She melts into me, her lips soft against mine, her breath mingling with mine as my tongue slides over hers. She tastes sweet, like the margarita she was drinking earlier, mixed with something that’s all her. It’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and I can’t get enough.

Her hands are in my hair, fingers threading through the strands, pulling me closer, and I groan into her mouth, pressing her back harder against the wall. Her body fits against mine perfectly, her curves molding into my muscles, and I feel the tension that’s been building between us crack open, raw and electric.

I kiss her deeper, my hands tangling in her hair, feeling the silky strands slip through my fingers. She’s kissing me back with the same urgency, her body leaning into mine, her chest pressed against me, her heart racing just as fast as mine.

We’re lost in it, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. There’s only her, only this moment. I don’t care about the noise, the people, or the fact that we’re in a crowded bar. All that matters is the way her lips move against mine, the way her body responds to every touch, every breath.

The kiss lasts longer than it should, but when we finally pull apart, her eyes are soft and wide, her chest heaving with every shaky breath. She looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time, and maybe she is. Maybe I’m seeing her for the first time too. And fuck, she is so beautiful.

My forehead rests against hers, both of us trying to catch our breath. I feel the weight of everything—everything we’ve been holding back, everything that’s been building between us since the moment we met—settle between us.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper, my voice rough, breathless.

She doesn’t hesitate. She nods, her hand sliding into mine, and I lead her out of the bar, the noise and the crowd fading behind us.