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The soft glow of morning filters through the curtains as I wake up. Natalie’s still asleep beside me, her blonde hair spread across the pillow, her face peaceful. I study her for a moment, taking in the sight of her in the quiet stillness.

I’ve never felt like this before—so damn protective of someone, like I’d burn the world down to keep her safe. It’s a dangerous feeling, one that’s been brewing deep inside of me since she came into my life. Like an unstoppable force, impossible to fight.

I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, careful not to wake her. But even as I pull back, my fingers twitch with the urge to touch her again. To run my hands through her hair, to feel the rise and fall of her breath beneath my palm.

She’s mine.

I don’t even try to deny it anymore.

I leave a note on the nightstand, telling her I’m meeting Travis down at the gym. It’s routine. I thrive on it, always have. Keeps me focused, grounded. But lately, ever since Natalie, I’ve been slipping out of that structure. A part of me doesn’t mind—it’s impossible to resist being with her—but another part feels that little edge dulling. And that edge is what makes me dangerous in the ring. That edge is what makes me, me.

I shrug off the thought, closing the door behind me and heading downstairs to the gym. The empty hallways of the hotel are a stark contrast to the crowded arenas I’m used to. I like the quiet, the solitude. The gym’s empty, as usual. Perfect. I start my warm-up, pushing the thoughts of the championship, of my career, to the back of my mind. But they’re always there, gnawing at me.

About ten minutes into my workout, Travis walks in. I knew he’d show up eventually.

“Yo, champ,” he calls out, his voice echoing in the empty gym. “What’s up, man? I thought you’d be taking the day off after last night.”

I grunt, not looking up as I finish my set. “Gotta stay sharp. You know that.”

Travis leans against the weight rack, eyes glinting with mischief. “So, how’s Natalie?” he asks, smirking.

I stiffen, my grip tightening on the dumbbell. I should’ve known he’d bring her up. Travis has been itching to get details ever since he saw us together. I’m not about to give him anything, though. I want to keep her to myself for a little while longer.

“She’s good,” I say flatly, setting the weight down and moving to the next station. I’m hoping he’ll drop it, but of course, Travis being Travis, he doesn’t.

“Come on, man,” he presses. “You've got to give me something. You’re not the type to get all soft over a girl. What’s she got on you?” he grins.

I stop; fists clenched at my sides. I turn to face him, my jaw tight. “Watch your fucking mouth, Travis. Don’t talk about her like that.”

He holds up his hands, laughing it off. “Alright, alright. I didn’t realize things were that serious between you two.”

“They are,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “And if you want to keep talking about her, you better show some respect.”

Travis chuckles again, though there’s a hint of something else in his eyes. Maybe he’s finally getting the picture. “Okay, man. Chill. I’m happy for you, really. Just don’t let it mess with your head. You’ve got the biggest match of your career coming up, and you need to be on your game.”

I roll my eyes, a little offended by his assumption. “Don’t worry about me. I’m always on my game. Nothing’s going to come between me and that belt.”

We continue the workout, but my head’s buzzing with thoughts. Travis’s words keep echoing in my mind. Am I letting Natalie distract me? I don’t want to think that way, but it’s hard not to when I’m so close to my shot at the championship. I can’t afford any mistakes. Not now.

When I finally get back to the hotel room, the bed’s empty, the white sheets crumpled from where Natalie had been. The sound of the shower fills the room, and a sense of relief washes over me. She’s still here.

I push open the bathroom door, steam billowing out around me. I strip down quickly and step inside, the hot water hitting my skin.

Natalie turns, her eyes lighting up in surprise. “Hey,” she says, a soft smile spreading across her lips. “How was your workout?”

I don’t respond, just take in the sight of her—her body glistening under the water, soap suds sliding down her curves.

She’s everything.

I cup her face and kiss her, slow and deep, like I’m trying to memorize the taste of her. My hands roam over her wet skin, my fingers tracing every dip and curve, like I’m mapping out what already belongs to me. She lets out a soft moan against my lips, and just like that, everything I was worried about fades away.

This is where I’m supposed to be. Right here with her.

But then I hear Travis’s voice in my head again. “Don’t let this mess with your head.” Is she a distraction? Am I sabotaging myself?

I push the thoughts away again, kissing her deeper, harder, like I need to drown them out. It’s not working, though. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m letting something slip. But as her hands slide over my chest, her fingers tracing the lines of my muscles, I decide I don’t care. Not right now.

“Ryan,” she whispers against my lips, her voice filled with longing, and all my doubts vanish in an instant.

I grip her waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us. I need to feel her, to be with her, like it’s the only thing that matters.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her ear. “I swear, baby, I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”

Her hands tighten against my shoulders, her nails digging in slightly, and it drives me wild. She places a small kiss on the lock tattooed above my heart.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I confess, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, feeling her pulse hammer against my lips. “All I know is that I need you. I'm not a man who needs anyone, but fuck, baby you bring me to my knees.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her fingers tangling in my wet hair. “Ryan…”

“Tell me you feel it too,” I demand, my voice rough. “Tell me you’re mine, tell me that this is real. I need to hear you say it.”

Her eyes meet mine, blue and full of something deep and real. “I’m yours,” she whispers, no hesitation, no doubt. “This is real. I need you too.”

A growl rumbles low in my throat, and I crash my lips to hers again, drowning in her, in us.

The doubts, the championship, the world outside this shower—it’s all irrelevant.

All that exists is Natalie, her soft skin, the feel of her against me.

And for the first time in my life, I realize something terrifying.

Nothing— nothing —has ever mattered to me the way she does.

And that? That changes everything.