Her brown eyes stay locked on mine for a few long seconds before she expels an exhale and takes the money from me. As soon as the money leaves my fingertips, weight is lifted from my shoulders.

“I knew you’d come through for me…eventually. You always do.”

I nod. “No more silence between us. I want you to know that you can contact me whenever you want and not get pushed to the side.”

I feel her head nod against me as she pats my back. I notice her brown eyes are swimming with tears when she pulls back and she stubbornly wipes them away. It’s nice. I like helping my little sister—when I’m not being a total dick and ignoring her, that is.

“You wanna go get something to eat? There’s a good pizza place a few corners away from here.”

I rake my fingers through my hair and glance at the clock. Three minutes is all I have until I return to Olivia and I need to explain everything to her. I don’t want her waiting a second longer than she has to.

“I have to get back upstairs…”

Maddi’s pretty face contorts into a cringe, like I’ve given her too much information. “Sorry, I should’ve known you’d have company.”

“It’s not that kind of company.”

She smirks, pulling a final grape from the bunch and peeling it between her long nails. “It’s always that kind of company when it comes to you.”

“Not this time,” I reply and I even smile a little. “She’s different.”

She cocks her head to the side, like an adorable puppy. “Is my big bro finally settling down? I want to meet her!” She drops the remnants of her grape, bounces past me and toward the stairs, but I snag her tiny arm and pull her back before she makes any real progress. Olivia is unaware of Maddi. She knows her as the stripper I flipped out over and having that same girl sprinting up the stairs to say ‘hi’ isn’t going to help anyone.

“You can meet her when I’m not in the doghouse for trying to pull a stripper off a stage.”

Maddi frowns. “She doesn’t know I’m your sister?”

“Not yet, but I’m going to tell her in—” I glance at the clock. “Forty seconds.”

She flashes her palms at me, stepping backwards. “Then don’t let me hold you back.” Her lips curl into an adoring smile. “I’m glad you ran into me tonight. It’s nice to clear the air.”

I smile at her and she steps past me.

“Where are you going?” I ask. “It’s late, crash on the couch for the night.”

She shakes her head, not slowing her pace to the door.

“Can’t,” Maddi calls over her shoulder as she opens the door. “I have to meet Kye at three a.m. Love you, bro.”

She steps out and closes it behind her, leaving me with seven seconds to spare. Without a second thought, I rip my shirt over my head and bolt for the stairs. I clear them one, two—no—three steps at a time and slam to a halt before I reach the door. I take a second for myself, swallowing hard and dropping my shirt to the floor. In my back pocket, I feel my phone vibrate. It’s been vibrating all night. Darryl knows better than to show up here tonight. He knows Olivia is the only person I want to be around right now and when I sleep, my phone going unanswered, he’ll know that I’m okay because I’m with her.

The door creaks a little as I open it and slip through, locking us in a pitch black room.

“O?” I whisper, almost tripping over a bunch of random clothes as I make my way over to the bed. “You awake?”

“I…I think so.” She yawns and I hear the bed sheets ruffle before a choked yelp and finally a relieved exhale. “Shit.” She breathes. “I almost fell off the bed.”

I chuckle under my breath. “Hold on, I’m coming.”

I lean forward, my arms extended, searching for the gigantic bed. My fingertips brush against the mattress and I push forward until the palms of my hands are planted firmly. I straighten my posture and fidget with my buttons, unable to get my jeans off quick enough. When they pool at my feet, I kick them—somewhere—and slide onto the bed. On my side, the fabric remains cool and untouched, but when I slip under the blankets and shuffle toward Olivia, it’s warm and inviting. I reach out and touch the bare skin of her stomach. She’s taken her dress off and the thought of her lying next to me in her underwear has me hard and ready. My blood pools in the only place it knows how when she’s around and the pressure hurts. I pull her against me, hooking a leg over the blanket and hiding my hard cock from her. She squirms forward, pushing her head right into the gap between my neck and shoulder, oblivious to how hard I’m trying to keep a rather eager part of my anatomy away from her.

“You said you were going to tell me everything.”

I nod, kissing her ear. “I did.”

“Then please start…you’re the only one who can take away the sick feeling in my stomach…or make it worse.”

My poor girl. She’s been so worried this whole time. I need to make her feel better. She needs to know she’s the only girl I love, the only girl I’ve ever loved and the only girl I’ll ever love.

“I really wish tonight didn’t happen…I wanted you to have fun.”

“And I did have fun,” she counters. “Until we got to the strip club—I think I’m going to stay away from them from now on. They only seem to ruin my night, not enhance it.”

I see there’s no point in warming up, straight to it then. “The girl was my sister.”

“At the strip club?” The disbelief is clear in her voice. “Your sister?”

“Yeah. Maddi…it turns out she’s a stripper at The Spearmint Rhino.” I exhale. “She just left here…I gave her money, so here’s hoping she never takes her clothes off for cash ever again.”

Olivia pulls back from me and I can feel her trying to decipher my expression in the dark. When she realizes it’s too dark to see anything, her hands fly to my waist and she presses herself into me. “I thought you—”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought,” I tell her. I don’t want to hear how little she thinks of my loyalty to her and I don’t think I can handle hearing such doubtful words from her—at any stage in our relationship. Olivia’s trust levels are naturally low and I guess I don’t blame her. We all know Blade was a douchebag, with a douchebag name to boot, and if I have to spend the rest of my life gaining her trust because of him, then bring it on. I like a challenge and I’ll love the look on her face when I’m on my deathbed and she sees that I’ve been faithful to her every single second of our relationship. “What matters is that it’s sorted out now and I’m here with you.”

“Will I meet her?” O asks, her voice slightly hesitant. I want to tell her how close she came to meeting her, but decide against it.

I shrug. “Sooner or later.”

“Is she anything like you?”

Is Maddi anything like me? She’s tough with too much attitude for her own good. She’s over-confident to the point of being crazily egotistical and she— “She’s a hell of a lot like me.” I laugh, realizing how similar we are.

“Then I think we’ll get on just fine.”

I smile at the thought of Maddi and Olivia having ‘girl time,’ doing girly things like shopping and whatever else it is that women do when they hang out together. Knowing Maddi, it’ll be mimosas and a baseball game—or whatever hippie music festival is on. Olivia will have her work cut out for her when she’s tries to keep up with my sister. She’s full of life, never turning down an opportunity and never taking a breather. I think Olivia will appreciate my lifestyle a lot more after experiencing Maddi’s.

I shift my body weight forward, resting against Olivia. “Sorry for scaring you…and for not talking to you.” I twist the tip of my index finger in her hair, causing the ends to wrap around me. “I’m not used to expressing myself…you make it easier for me, but sometimes I can’t.” I don’t know why. I don’t have a reason for being the way I am…not everyone has a horrible back story. Do I need one? Do I need to have a dark, horrifying past to be the way I am? Why am I this way if I grew up okay? I don’t fucking know, but what I do know is, breaking things, swearing, fucking, punching—all of it—it helps me. It helps me when I’m mad, sad, anxious, and depressed. Does that make me psycho because I’m not reliving some twisted past? Shit. I have no idea.

“It’s not okay,” she mumbles. “It’s unhealthy and it leaves too much room for miscommunication. If I’d have left tonight—”

I flinch inwardly at the thought.

“—because you weren’t talking to me…what would’ve happened between us? Don’t you think a situation like that would inflict too much damage on our relationship?”

“But you didn’t leave,” I tell her, my voice takes a cold, dark edge, on purpose, to make a point. She can’t leave me, I won’t let her. “Why?”

“It’s simple, I love you, but that doesn’t mean I’m invincible to the hurtful things you do. And it’s because I love you these things hurt me more than they should.”

I untangle my finger from her hair and drag it down her spine to the small of her warm back.

“The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, but there are certain ways I handle things,” I confess. “When I’m mad, I need time and space. I need to work it out of my system.”

“So work it out another way—by, I don’t know, kissing me or something—anything other than what you’re doing now.”

“Kissing you isn’t going to work,” I say. “I need something fast, to work the anxiety and anger out of my system.”

Olivia pulls back from me. “Kissing me won’t work?”

“No.” And I truly don’t think it will. I’m so used to doing it my way, it’s too late to try anything new.

Her warm, feminine hands slide up my bare stomach and my muscles clench as her delicate fingers rest on my chest. “But when I touch you, you feel better?”

A cool, calming buzz melts through my hot veins under her touch. “Yeah, but that’s when I’m feeling anxious, not exceptionally pissed off.”

“Let’s try it.”

“Olivia, it’s not going to—”

“Seth,” she replies, mimicking my tone. “Do it.”

“But it’s not going to wo—”

“Do it.”

She’s pricking at my frustration levels and I know she’s doing it on purpose. It’s awfully cocky of her to think her lips are the answer to everything, but if she wants me to kiss her, then fine, I’ll kiss her with everything I have. My fingers fall from her back before they bury themselves in her hair. I tighten my grip and she gasps against the pain as I tug her head backwards and roll my body on top of her, making sure she feels me everywhere. I press her hard into the mattress, one of my thighs resting firmly between her legs and against her sweet, warm spot. My mouth lingers less than an inch from hers and her breath hits my face in a quick, anxious pant. “You think your lips can help me?” I ask.

Her pouty, marshmallow-like lips curl. “I know they can.”

I crush my lips to hers and her mouth opens willingly underneath mine. As soon as her tongue glides against mine and she wraps her hands around my neck, I’m lost. Adrift from my original intent…which I’m sure was to prove her wrong, yet here I am, completely captivated by the taste and feel of her. Maybe she’s right. I shouldn’t push her away when I’m mad. I should pull her closer and let her calm me. I trace the curve of her soft little body with my hand before gripping her thigh and hooking it over my hip. Forgetting the fact I was previously hiding my erection from her, I shamelessly press it into her, letting her know exactly how bad I want it.

“Easy…” Olivia giggles against my mouth, pressing her hands firmly against my chest. I rake my teeth over her bottom lip and release it. “We have a dinner to go to tonight and sleep is a more viable option than sex.”

She’s right. It’s the morning and I’m beyond tired…I want to sleep, but I want her more. “I can assure you we’ll be finished by tomorrow night.” I drop my mouth to her neck, licking her flesh and eliciting a half moan-half giggle from her.

She pushes against me, forcing me away from her body. Olivia laughs once under her breath. “I’m telling you to get off me and go to sleep, not asking.”

I pull back. I’m unable to see her face in the dark, but I’m certain I hear her smile. Cheeky little minx. I roll off her and onto my back. Instantly, she melts into my side, wrapping an arm over my waist. I pull her closer, but it still feels like she’s too far away.

“How does your own medicine taste?” she chuckles, ending it with a quick, sleepy yawn.

“Bitter, like that gross cherry shit you’re force fed as a kid.”

She laughs and it vibrates my ribcage—it also makes me smile. Olivia has the funniest, cutest, strangest laugh I’ve ever heard. It’s halfway between a giggle and an actual laugh—and most times, it sounds kind of nervous. I love it; the sound of it is addicting.

Soon, the room falls silent and I feel her arm become heavier as she falls deep into sleep. My eyes grow heavier as I follow quickly behind her. Tonight, we’ll attend a formal dinner downstairs in the function room. There’s no purpose to it other than to shake hands and meet other fighters, but I’m excited (and a little nervous) to officially be welcomed into the professional community. Tonight’s dinner isn’t just about me, either. It’s about Darryl and Jackson. After tonight they’ll formally be recognized as legitimate trainers and team members of the MMAC, something I know they’ve both been looking forward to. They deserve it. Olivia’s heavy breathing filters through my ears and eradicates my thoughts. It lulls me nearer to sleep and I shift closer to her, absorbing the warmth of her soft skin. I will never ignore Olivia again. I’m going to try my hardest to share my emotions with her, I tell myself before I fall over the edge into sleep. I’ve already told her I loved her, how hard can the rest be?