After they settled in, Deacon threaded his fingers through hers. “Explain how this is played, because it doesn’t look like what I’ve seen in the movies or on TV.”

“This is a flat track. It’s used more commonly than the elevated track. Presley told me that when the team first started, they didn’t have a dedicated training place, so they had to practice in a parking lot.”

Deacon winced. “Sounds painful. I did my time training under less-than-ideal conditions.”

“I guess sweeping the area off with industrial brooms cut down on road rash. Everyone who started with the team has scars.”

“What’d they do in the winter?”

“They only played in a summer league.”

A commotion broke out on the floor, and Bloody Mary shoved an opposing team member.

Deacon stiffened beside her.

“She looks a lot different as Bloody Mary, doesn’t she?”

“Jesus. Marisol is a roller derby queen now?”

“I don’t know about being the queen. She’s the jammer. I’m surprised you recognized her with her clothes on.”

A heavy pause. Then, “Look at me.”

Dammit. She felt his pull and turned her head.

“I thought we were done with the strip-club fallout.”

“We are.”

“Then you don’t get to throw shit like that in my face.” Deacon lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “One hour.”

“Deacon—”

“We became this one hour ago. I had a life before that. So did you. What—and who—came before doesn’t matter.”

“Ignoring things that happened in the past only means they’ll be harder to discuss down the road.”

“I’m not a big discusser, babe.”

“Well, I guess that’s about to change—isn’t it, babe?”

Deacon’s eyes narrowed.

Molly offered him a sunny smile. “We will have a detailed discussion about our expectations—both social and sexual.” She patted his thigh. “Chin up, buddy. It’ll give you something to look forward to during dinner.”

He stared at her.

She didn’t crack—but, lord, perky and determined was hard to maintain when faced with those calculating blue eyes.

Then Deacon smiled. A smile she hadn’t seen before. A smile that shot straight to the heart of her.

“Killing me, babe.” He kissed her decisively. “Now explain roller derby to me.”

The bout started, and the noise level in the gymnasium increased dramatically. Molly did her best to explain what a jam was, what rules a player violated to get a penalty, the difference between a jammer and a blocker. She admitted the scoring never made much sense to her.

When Presley went sailing across the floor and ended up dog piled by the opposing team, Molly stood and booed along with the rest of the Divas fans. Then she booed louder when Presley, who had a bloody nose and a gash on the outside of her calf, was penalized for tripping.

“You suck, ref! Pull your head out!” Molly shouted.

Deacon looked at her strangely when she plopped back down next to him.

“What?”

“You’re a vocal fan.”

“Embarrassed you, did I?”

“Surprised me is all.” He ran his knuckles down the side of her face. “You’ll yell and scream at my opponent when you come to watch me fight?”

She couldn’t tell him the thought of seeing him bloodied turned her stomach. “Would that make you happy?”

“It’d make me very happy to see you sitting in my corner, babe. Never had my woman cheering me on.”

My woman. The growly way he said that just . . . got to her.

Another loud cry arose from the crowd.

Molly looked down on the floor. The players were in a massive fight. Punching, pushing, elbows flying, and more pushing. Even the secondary players skated into the fray.

“What just happened?” Deacon asked.

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen this before. Usually it’s a lot more sedate.”

Deacon hissed in a breath. “The chick from the other team just clocked Marisol.”

Blood Mary roared. She grabbed her attacker and knocked her down. Before Bloody Mary lived up to her name, whistles blew.

That garnered attention. The coaches separated the players and sent them back to their respective benches.

The ref skated over to the penalty box to confer with someone.

“Is there medical personnel at these bouts?” Deacon asked.

“Not officially. But the Divas’ coach’s wife is a nurse.” She paused. “Speaking of medical personnel, what do you think of Riggins?” Riggins was one of the new jujitsu instructors, who also served as medical adviser for the athletes in the MMA program and took care of injuries in the dojo. Big Rig was intimidating—partially because of his massive size, but also because he was majorly hot. Molly suspected some of the female students faked injuries just to have Riggins put his big hands on them.