He didn’t, and he won’t. When are you going to learn?

“I believe given a few more weeks, he would’ve opened up to you. As far as him storming in here, Amery warned him if he showed his face she’d call the cops. And Deacon knows she doesn’t bluff.”

Her head snapped up. “Amery threatened him? Did you tell her . . . ?”

“No. She doesn’t know anything about his past and nothing about what happened between you two, just that he fucked something up big-time and you’re a mess.” Ronin leaned forward. “That’s all she needed to know to rally behind you, girl.”

“See?” She sniffled. “I’ve got all these great friends who stand up for me and I can’t talk to any of them about this. They don’t understand why I won’t tell them what happened.”

“It’s hard, but I admire your loyalty to Deacon.”

That brought up something she hadn’t considered. “Is he worried that in a fit of anger I’ll blab his most closely guarded secret to my friends?”

“Lots of women would have.” He leaned forward. “Deacon put his rage about the situation into play the next morning by beating the hell out of Micah Courey.”

“What?” she said with gasp.

“Deacon nearly sent him to the hospital.” Ronin’s eyes gleamed. “It was fucking beautiful to watch. Ever since he came back from Nebraska, he’s not been training at the level he needs to be. So when he faced Courey in full-fight mode? It was like a switch flipped inside him. Every aspect of Deacon’s training throughout the last five years coalesced. He was a fighting machine. I swear Maddox was so proud he even shed a tear or two. Needham is toast. It’ll be a huge win for him and Black Arts since now he’ll be able to retain that focus.”

Realization slammed into her. Even their fledgling relationship had been a distraction to Con Man’s career. Maddox had understood that and tried to derail this very thing months ago, when he’d enlisted Ronin’s help to keep Molly and Deacon apart. But this time Deacon’s stubbornness had won out—he wanted her, everything and everyone else be damned. Including his fight career? He’d blown off a full training session to spend time with her on Sunday. And their vigorous, frequent sex had to take a toll on him physically by sapping his extra energy.

So Molly had handed Black Arts the golden opportunity to prove to Deacon that without a girlfriend, and the rage about that driving him, Con Man would become the fighter he needed to be.

She might be sick.

No wonder Ronin had felt the need to come here personally to explain and soften the blow.

“Molly?”

Ronin’s ninja senses were unparalleled, so she couldn’t let on that she knew it was over between her and Deacon. “Sorry.”

His golden-eyed gaze sharpened. “About?”

“All of this drama. I hate that Amery is in the middle of it. She’s got a business to run. And with me being on autopilot the past few days, I haven’t pulled my weight.” She snatched another tissue. “Amery deserves better. So I’ll do as my grams advised. Pull myself up by my bootstraps and do what needs done. Move on.”

“But that’s not—”

“It’s fine.” Molly stood and offered Ronin a watery smile. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“Molly, wait—”

She didn’t hear anything else after she shut herself in the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, she gave herself the mother of all silent pep talks.

This too shall pass.

You can’t miss what you never really had.

Don’t let a broken heart break your spirit.

Just keep swimming.

When all else fails, make a list.

The first thing on that list would be to find a new gym.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

FOCUSING on Fee’s birthday party for Katie Saturday night provided Molly with a much-needed distraction. She’d hauled booze, set up seating areas, spooned out dip and hummus, loaded platters of crackers and chips.

So when Katie started micromanaging the placement of the bowls of gourmet olives, Fee banished Katie to her bedroom and put Molly on babysitting duty, warning her to get ready.

“Get ready” was girl code for—you deal with the crazy bitch when she starts strutting around in just her hot rollers.

It sucked to be the modest one in a sea of nymphs.

Sure, in the dojo locker room Molly could strip down to her bra and panties. But strolling around buck-assed naked in front of her friends? No way. Not even if she had a killer birthday suit like the birthday girl did.

Rather than sit on the counter in the bathroom, Molly parked herself in the bedroom, barring the door, keeping Katie in, rather than keeping others out.