PRESENT

"Eyes off my sister's ass, Pryce."

My brows go up in amusement at the scowl on Nate's face. You'd think he'd be used to me and Aria dating by now but he still isn't. At least, he pretends not to be. Personally, I think he just enjoys being a dick and having an excuse to deck me in the face every now and then.

After that day I woke up in the hospital, Nate came by again to talk to me. He gave me the classic "if you hurt her, I'll hurt you" speech but our talk went deeper than that. I wasn't just some random dude dating his sister—I was his best friend. He ripped me a new one for going behind his back and not being honest with him and I let him. I deserved it. We also talked about how different shit is probably going to be now that I'm in love with his sister instead of bothering her and pulling on her pigtails. Technically I can still do that when we're in bed but I didn't add that part. I had enough close calls with death to risk another.

Overall he was pretty cool about us but I knew he would be. Nate isn't the kind of guy that holds a grudge or stays mad for too long. Besides, once Ria and I were open with him it was obvious how much I loved her and that gave him a peace of mind too. Didn't stop him from punching my face in when I finally recovered from surgery three weeks later, though. Again, I let him. Now we're completely even.

That's why I like to piss him off by blatantly checking out Ria around him and sucking her face in front of him every chance I get. He may be my best friend but I also happen to be a total asshole.

"I've had more than just my eyes on that ass, Hunter." I smirk over at him.

He growls low in his throat, his fist twitching beside him. "I can't stand you, you know that?"

I sling an arm around his neck in a loose hold and smack his cheek. "You're my brother. You have no choice."

"Fucker thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he almost died." He mumbles but his lips quirk up in silent laughter.

Our friendship has changed since I was shot, too. Nate and I have always been close as hell but something me almost losing my life woke us up and brought us even closer. I'm also a lot more transparent with the rest of the guys now. They're important as fuck to me and I make an effort to spend time with them and get to know them better, letting them get to know me better too. It's not easy because I'm built to push others away but they can tell I'm trying, I think. It's pretty great not having to hide who I am around them anymore.

Their girls all know my story too and have assured me that they don't think any different of me. I think coming clean to Delilah was my biggest turning point. She's my best bud's fiancé and for that reason she deserves to know who I truly am, for her sake and her son's—who I no longer try to stay away from. The kid's cute as fuck and I finally have the kind of relationship with him I've always wanted. Pretty sure I'm biased saying this but I have no doubt I'm his favourite uncle. Turns out I'm pretty good with kids when I'm not paranoid around them about my fucked up past. Go figure.

"You ready for this?" Coach enters the ring and I snap out of it. He grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a confident stare. "You're winning this one, Pryce."

"Damn straight." I grin, clapping him on the back.

He's the one I'm most grateful for. I know I would have died without his help. Him and Mitch sacrificed everything to help me fix my mistakes and because of them, I'm a free man. Life has been amazing now that I'm no longer busy running from it. And with Aria by my side? A fucking dream.

"Take a seat." Coach gestures at the foldable chair in my corner of the ring. I follow his instructions, knowing I'm about to get one of his famous pep talks. I've always wanted one of those after years of hearing him coach the guys. It's finally my turn.

He kneels in front of me, growing serious. "You feeling okay? Your wound isn't giving you any trouble?"

I shake my head. It's been almost three months since I was shot and, other than a wide scar across my abdomen, you can't even tell what happened to me.

"Good." He nods. "You're ready for this, Pryce. You've worked hard as fuck the past couple months to prepare yourself for this match. You're a damn good boxer and I don't want to see you holding anything back against your opponent. You were made to fight. Your greatness was made to be recognized and today this entire arena is going to walk out of here knowing your name. This is the start of your future."

I hang on to his every word, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the image he's painted for me. Of course I'm nervous about my first professional match but Coach's faith in me is giving me a steady head.

"You're an assertive guy. Use that to your advantage. Normally, I tell the guys to stick with defence so they can retain their energy for the duration of the match but you're different. You don't lose your cool when you're backed into a corner. You unleash hell and fight even harder. Pressure does something to you—makes you a beast. I want to see you playing offence through the entire match, only switching to defence when absolutely necessary. I want to see you get so tired out that everyone will think you don't stand a chance, including yourself. Know why? Because that moment of desperation is your greatest weapon. Because when you think you're absolutely done for, that's when you snap. The only thing stronger than your fists is your survival instinct. That's why no one will see it coming."

He's right. My survival instinct is the only thing that's kept me alive. My whole life I've had to fight my way out of tight spots and hopeless endings. My whole life I've had to function under pressure. That's what got me through being a foster kid, that's what got me through getting captured by the Asesinos, and that's what got me through my fight with Christian.

"Win." Coach says simply. "Because there's no way you can't."

"Yes, sir." I bump his outstretched fist.

"And be a good sport. No stunts like last time or I'll be the one kicking your ass."

I snort. That's more like him.

He ducks under the ropes to leave the ring, joining the rest of the guys. I fold up the chair and pass it down to Jaxon who takes it and tips his chin up at me. "Good luck, Pryce."

"Thanks, man."

"Give him hell, Abercombie." Cameron grins. I roll my eyes but don't bother giving him any shit. Between marrying Avery a couple of months ago and the birth of his baby girl last week, he's been riding one hell of a high and I'm not that much of an asshole to burst his bubble.

"If his cheering for me gets too perverted, kick his ass." I instruct Wolfe who tosses Cameron a side-long glance in agreement.

I perch my elbows on the ropes and look over the crowd, noting the few signs that have my name on it and can't help but crack a small smile. Turns out, Coach recorded my exhibition match after all knowing it would be useful one day. When the video got out, I had more spectators asking for me than Coach could handle. It's fucking unreal that I actually have people here to watch me fight. I've waited my whole life for this and yet it feels like all I did was blink and this moment is already here.

When my eyes land on Aria, my heart flips over in my chest. Jesus, she's so fucking beautiful. So fucking mine. She's talking to Lenny, her head thrown back in laughter, and I watch her with a small smile on my face.

Sometimes it's still hard to believe that I finally have her and it's all out in the open. When I got back from the hospital, the first thing I did was knock on the front door of her house. Matt opened it and I wordlessly walked inside and levelled him with a knowing look. After nearly two decades of sneaking into her room, my entry from the front door said all it needed to say. He laughed under his breath, clapped me on the back once, and sent me on my way. Nate's parents know the truth too and although they were a little harder on me for putting their daughter in danger—rightfully so—they eventually came around because they've always known this would happen. They also know it's for life.

I've spent the past couple months taking Aria out and really milking this boyfriend thing. I take her out for traditional dates, picking her up at her door and dropping her off at the end of the night with a goodnight kiss. Then I sneak into her room moments later because that's our tradition and it happens to make things a lot more fun. I've never been so whipped in my life and the guys love giving me shit for it. They say that out of all of them, I might be the biggest pussy for my girl which I have to admit is kind of true. They may love their girls something fierce but I've loved Aria my whole fucking life.

Almost like she can sense my eyes on her, she turns her head to the ring and grins when she sees me. She blows me a kiss and I wink back, watching her with a look that promises exactly what I'm going to be doing to her later. I think our sex life has been the best part of this whole thing but then again that's probably my dick talking.

I'm forced to look away when I feel a glare on me and find Lenny's watchful eyes piercing into mine. I glare back but we both know we're just fucking around. Mostly. Truthfully I think she's one of the coolest chicks I've known but we both like giving each other shit. Aria says we act like siblings. I'm curious about how she'll get along with the rest of our gang when she's formally introduced to them after the match. More importantly, I wonder if any of us will get through the hard walls she has around her. She's a tough one to crack.

"Ready to do this?" My opponent asks me and I turn around. It's the same dude I fought for my exhibition match. Coach said I owed it to him to give him a fair fight and I reluctantly agreed. I guess I was a little hard on the guy last time.

"You plan on fighting for real?" I throw back and face him.

He nods sombrely. "Yeah, I do."

I just barely tip my chin back. "Then I'm ready."

"Okay, ladies." The ref steps between us. "Let's keep this match clean."

I snort. Call me crazy but I think I've earned a reputation already.

The referee blows the whistle to signal the start of the match and then it's on. The crowd that was only buzzing with chatter moments ago now is now a sea of screaming and cheering. Whistles and hoots and encouraging words ring out from all directions, the volume rising to almost obnoxious levels. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand up from goosebumps and I repress a shiver. My heart feels like it's thudding against my ribcage and I can feel my entire body coming alive. I'm high on adrenaline and I almost want to laugh because I can't contain it inside of me. Holy fuck, this is incredible. Is this really how it always feels? I could get used to it.

I'm so amped up that I start bouncing on my toes, circling my opponent leisurely. His fists come up in front of his face and he eyes me warily, probably remembering the last time we fought. If I was a good guy like Cameron or Nate I'd probably tell the guy to stop worrying and give me a fair fight. But I'm not that nice so instead, I waste no time striking first with a punch to his jaw while he's still distracted.

My move kicks off the match and the arena explodes into cheers. All around me the air is charged and I feed on it, letting it fill my body up with the adrenaline I need. My opponent—fuck, I keep forgetting his name—shakes his head and tries to get back in the game. I don't give him that option.

I duck my body low and start drilling straight punches into his gut rapidly. Over and over my fists drive into his abdomen, his ribs, his chest, and he's forced to slide backwards with the force of my offence. I follow him like a predator to its prey and back him into one corner of the ring. I bring my right arm up in an uppercut and his head snaps back against the ropes. My left cross sends him down on the floor and he braces himself on his palms and knees until I deliver one more cross along his temple. Then he falls to the floor with a groan.

"Incredible start for Pryce!" One of the judges screams into the mic and he has to scream because the crowd is cheering so loudly, I can barely hear myself think. My pulse pounds in my ears, my breathing growing harsher, and I back up away from my opponent to catch my breath. "He isn't holding anything back and I have a feeling this is about to be one hell of a fight."

Damn fucking straight it is. Through all the cheering I hear a few people in the crowd screaming my name and it's so surreal, I laugh into the crook of my shoulder. It took me a really fucking long time to get to pros but damn, it was worth it. This is all so fucking worth it.

My opponent is back on his feet and I put my game face in place again. We're just getting started.

***

Eight rounds later my opponent changes tactics completely. He's no longer on defence when he charges at me and then we're both on the offence and I no longer have a game plan. He swings a right hook that I duck away from, hitting him back with a hard left. I go for another body shot, my fists drilling into his ribs again. His hard right knocks me back and I lose my footing long enough for him to turn the tables on me. I brace my arms beside my head to protect myself while his body shots deck me right in the gut like I did to him moments ago. I clench my jaw against the pain when he throws two right jabs and a left right where my bullet wound is. Motherfucker. I'm driven into one corner of the ring and I have no choice but to go back on offence or it could be lights out for me. I jab him in the face, shooting another uppercut to his chin, and two more left jabs to his temple. He retaliates with a hard right to my jaw that snaps my head in the other direction and the following right hook to my upper ribs pushes me back into the ropes. Damn, he's good.

"Come on!" I hear Coach from behind me. "Offence!"

Fuck this. I head straight for him, ducking from his straight left. Two blows to his gut brings his arms down on instinct to protect himself and leaves his face wide open. I throw my arm as hard as I can in a right hook that knocks his teeth in. A string of blood flies out of his mouth from the open gash on his lower lip, letting me know just how much that one must have hurt.

"That's what I'm talking about, Pryce!" Coach bangs the canvas. "Keep it going!"

My opponent isn't anywhere near ready to give up and I admire his fighting strength. I think I just caught him off guard last time and it's clear he knows how to fight. He charges for me again and my arms lock in front of me for protection. One of his arms go around my back to hold me in place, his other hand punching my side with fierce attacks. He jabs the same place over and over with enough force that I can feel the bruising he's causing. I try to turn my body away but he sends a right cross to my eye to stop me before delivering another hard left to my rib. Before I know it, I'm backed into a corner again.

"Get out of there!" Nate demands.

"Body, Pryce! Body shot!" Jaxon adds.

My arm shoots out in a straight punch to his chin and his assault momentarily stops, long enough for me to send a hard left to his body. My punches come hard and fast to his gut, our grunts and the sound of flesh slapping somehow louder than the crowd. All I can hear is the satisfying smack of my glove drilling into his body and it urges me on. My arm uppercuts his jaw and my fist sinks into his eye with a left hook. I punch his eye again, even harder than last time, and again, each time harder and harder. Both of his eyes squeeze shut in surrender and I clock his jaw when he doesn't see it coming. His split lips widens and more blood spurts out of his mouth, flying out and landing on the canvas. I grunt with the force of my next blow, my punches turning lethal. The blood from his mouth coats my glove and drips down his chin.

I'm so occupied by his physical state that I don't see his cross coming, his right fist knocking into my nose. It's a powerful hit and the one after it even more so. My nose explodes with a harsh sting of pain and I feel the warm trickle of my blood trailing down into my mouth. I spit out the blood that got in there just as he decks my jaw in one more punch that rattles my teeth so hard, I bite down on my tongue.

"Turn it around! Let's go!" Cameron calls out.

"Don't let him corner you into defence! Use your offence, Pryce!" Coach sounds as flustered as I feel and I have to shake myself out of it.

My opponent's fist shoots forward and I duck quickly. I throw him another body shot, right on the big purple bruise on his left side and he grunts in pain.

"Time!" The ref calls and round nine is done.

I'm panting hard, my lungs feeling like they'll give up on me any minute. The room spins for a moment and my arm shoots out to tangle with the ropes, steadying me. I use my forearm to wipe the blood from my nose and groan in pain when the stinging flares up again. Fuck. It's definitely broken.

I stagger to the folding chair that Nate opens for me and fall into it, arms braced across my knees and breathing harshly.

"Shit. Let me see this." Coach demands, lifting my face. His eyes are hard as he scans the state of my nose. He presses his thumb onto it, just barely, and I jerk in my seat from the glare of pain it causes. His mouth pinches at the corners. "Broken."

My laugh is more like a wheeze. "Guess we got overconfident, huh?"

"Snap out of it." Coach barks. "You think the other guy is doing any better? Look at him."

I do just that, my eyes scanning him as he talks to his coach. He's just as roughed up I am, probably worse. One of his eyes is swollen shut so badly that it can't open more than just a crack, the reddish purple skin all puffed up and taking over his face. His lip is split open and his coach is holding a towel to it that's more red than white from the bleeding. There's also a gash running above his brow that the team doctor is stapling shut. I wince. He's definitely in worse shape than me.

"Still. I might not win." I try not to sound as disappointed as I feel. I look down at my bare knuckles that are bruised and cracked, stretching out my fingers while Nate hangs on to my gloves. "Not everyone wins their first professional match."

"You're not everyone." Coach grabs the back of my neck, his face inching into mine. "Look at me. Why'd you lose that confidence? What's going through your head right now?"

I shrug, my breaths still coming out choppy and heavy. "I don't know. I'm thinking of how to amp up my plays and what my weak points are and—"

"Stop." He commands. He drops his voice and the intensity on his face grips me. The sound of the crowd cheering and the judges evaluating the match drowns out until all I can focus on is what Coach is saying. "This isn't you sparring in the gym. This isn't an exhibition match. This is the real fucking deal, Pryce, and the real sport is so much more than just a sport. It's pain. It's anguish. It's desperation. It's everything bad that's ever happened to you pushing you past the breaking point until all you can see is redemption. You're not just fighting a person in the ring. You're fighting your demons and you are not about to let those fuckers win. Use everything that's ever hurt you as your power and I promise, that son of a bitch will be sorry he even stepped foot into this ring. Now, are you going to fucking win or are we wasting our time?"

"We're going to win." I murmur, his words instilling the adrenaline in me that I somehow lost along the way. I think about Mike and Nora and their betrayal, I think about the pain Christian caused me, I think about the pain Robbie caused Ria, I think about every fucker that tried to ruin me and my blood almost boils over. I feel the rage coursing through my blood and like instinct, I know I have to use it in the ring.

"Say it like you fucking mean it." Nate shakes my shoulders.

"Who's the champion?" Jaxon yells.

"Me!" I stand up, thumping my chest. "I'm the fucking champion!"

"And what are you going to do?" Cameron screams above the roar of the crowd that are charged up once they see me on my feet.

"I'm going to fucking win!" I put my arm up and the crowd's cheering intensifies. I feel goosebumps all over my body and I know this arena is right there with me.

"Let's go!" Coach claps his hand. "Final round and you give that motherfucker hell!"

The guys cheer, jostling my body and clapping me on the body to get me amped up. I almost feel like a new person as I step into the middle of the ring and wait for the ref to call it.

Let's fucking do this.

He blows the whistle and I don't wait another second. I jab my opponent's jaw so hard he loses his footing completely and crashes into the ropes. The crowd screams in approval and Coach and the guys roar behind me, slapping the canvas and spurring me on. I duck myself and get in his space, hitting him with body shots. My glove noisily smacks against the flesh of his skin, slick with sweat, and the sound of our punches and the painful grunts fades into the background. My arms burn from exertion and scream in protest, my lungs feel like they're on fire, but I don't stop throwing punch after punch into my opponent's body.

This is pain. This is anguish. This is desperation. This is my fucking redemption.

Suddenly I'm not just fighting because of a sport. I'm fighting because everything hurts so much and I need it to stop. I need to rise above my demons and win and I need it so bad, I become an animal to get it.

My left cross snaps my opponent's head to the side and my right cross snaps it back in place. Two straight punches to his eye and the sliver of it that was open is now entirely shut and I know he can't see out of one eye anymore. He's so out of sorts that he panics and desperately starts throwing wild punches, none of which actually hit me. And I see it. I see the finish line. The pressure of the moment cracks me just like Coach said it would and every survival instinct I have kicks in. Almost as if I'm seeing the moment play out in slow motion, with my heart thudding wildly in my chest and my pulse pumping so loud in my ears that it sounds like I'm underwater, I swing my arm out with every bit of strength I have in me and my glove connects with my opponent's temple in the hardest motherfucking right hook. The punch is so hard that his mouth guard loosens and falls out, blood spurting past his lips. He falls to the canvas, bouncing twice, with his arms and legs splayed out and a harsh wheeze leaves him.

I don't know if it's the height of the moment or if the taste of victory is so close, but the countdown seems to drag on forever. It's like I'm savouring this moment—the wild chanting and roar of the crowd, the guys and Coach all riled up as they countdown with the ref, my opponent's coach yelling at him to get up—and it feels like the whole thing stretches out for an eternity.

As soon as the referee gets to ten, the moment crashes and I'm yanked out of the bubble, thrown back into reality so suddenly that I fall to my knees and gape at the canvas.

Holy fucking shit. I just won the match.

An incredulous laugh leaves me just as I'm grabbed by the arms and hoisted back up to my feet. The guys are in my face, grasping it and yelling and shaking me to snap me out of it. Time unfreezes and everything is back to normal speed. With hard pants and a heaving chest, I look around me at the thousand of spectators on their feet and cheering my name. A chill runs down my spine watching them and feeling the electricity in the air, feeling their adrenaline crash into me and charging me up.

"Pryce! Pryce! Pryce!" It's a collective chant and there's isn't a single person in the crowd that's not on their feet, whistling and cheering.

"Jesus." I choke out, watching them like they might disappear at any moment. Is this even real?

"Give them what they want! Go!" Nate laughs, pushing me.

Almost in a daze, I go to one corner of the ring and climb up on the lowest rope. The crowd's cheering intensifies and then it's borderline deafening when my arms pump in victory.

"Fuck yeah!" I scream, laughing wildly. I think I almost cry like a pussy because it hits me in this moment that the one dream I've had, the one fantasy I held on to as a kid to get me through the pain of never being seen, just became my reality. This is fucking real and more importantly, this is mine.

I get down then because as crazy as it is to have the crowd rooting me on, I care more about the people in my life who never gave up on me. I crash into the guys and they're so shocked that I actually hugged them, no one moves for a moment. Then their arms come up and go around me and we're all holding each other, living and breathing this perfect fucking moment.

"Told you you'd win." Coach gloats, ruffling my hair and clapping me on the back.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Coach." I hug him next, arms tightening around him and hoping he can feel the gratitude I'm too pussy to say out loud. Maybe one day I'll be able to tell him that he changed my life and gave me the second chance I thought I'd never get. But for now, he hugs me back and I think he already gets it.

"Let's get out of here before it gets too wild." Jaxon suggests.

I make quick work of shaking hands with my opponent and even apologizing for the way I fought last time. I guess winning a professional match puts you in a good mood or something. Then the six of us make our way down the walkway connecting to the arena that leads to the private rooms for fighters. Flashes go off and reporters thrust their microphones at me while Coach skillfully shoves them away.

We enter the huge private room where our families are waiting for us and Aria is the first to separate from the crowd of people, charging at me. I laugh and catch her around the waist just as she jumps, her legs locking around my torso and her arms going around my neck. She crushes her mouth to mine and I kiss her back heatedly, still feeling the rush of the win. I'm hopped up on adrenaline and my body is buzzing with anticipation to get rid of it somehow. All I can think is I need to sink into Aria's tight heat and spend the whole night fucking her so hard and so long she won't be able to walk the next day. Now I know why the guys are always so eager to get their girls home after a match. The need to fuck is insane right now and I think Aria can feel it, her body responding to mine and melting into me when I slip my tongue inside her mouth and make the kiss way to inappropriate for the crowd around us.

"Break it up." I hear Nate demand. I can feel the steam rolling off of him. "Jesus, you guys make me sick."

I reluctantly pull away from Aria and glare at him over her shoulder. "Don't act like you're not always mauling Blondie in front of us, Hunter. Fuck off."

Everyone snickers when Nate's grin turns stupid and Delilah buries her face into his neck in embarrassment. These two have somehow managed to become even more lovesick after Nate proposed to her.

"We can't stay here long." Coach says and I have no choice but to set Aria back down on her feet. Doesn't stop me from keeping my hand on her firm ass, though. God, I'm so fucking hungry for her right now. "Pryce needs to do the interviews so if you want to celebrate, let's move now."

The group shuffles out and chattering takes over as we walk across the building in a huddle. Everyone takes turns obsessing over Cameron and Avery's daughter, Olivia, and Aria starts introducing Lenny to everyone one by one. The gang takes to her immediately, complimenting her tattooing skills and are highly amused at her no-nonsense personality. Just to be petty I stick my middle finger at her when she tosses me a smug look, declaring that everyone likes her better than me.

I'm in the middle of whispering really inappropriate suggestions in Aria's ear when a commotion breaks out behind us. We turn around and my brows go up when Lenny pushes a drunk guy so hard he crashes into the wall.

"What the hell?" I mutter as we all back up.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Lenny shoves him again. "Think you can just grab my ass and get away with it?"

"Can't blame a guy." The idiot snickers and even reaches for her again.

"Back off!" Aria snaps so vehemently that I gape down at her. She's absolutely seething and even though it's fucked up that the drunk dude made a grab at Lenny, her reaction implies that this is clearly bigger than what's happening right now. Did something happen to Lenny before?

"I'll break your fucking face!" Lenny lunges at him and everyone finally snaps out of it, reaching for her to break it up.

I think we're all just about knocked on our asses when it's Wolfe of all people who wraps an arm around Lenny and pulls her back before she can hit the guy. Lenny fights his hold, arms swinging wildly, but it's no use because he's much bigger than her and she almost looks like an angry pixie in his firm grasp.

"What...is happening?" Emily whispers, definitely voicing what we're all thinking.

Just when I thought I couldn't be taken more off guard, everyone balks when Wolfe sets Lenny down and casually—almost protectively—moves her behind him before swinging at the guy's jaw so hard, that he crumples to the floor like he's made of nothing. And stays there. Completely knocked out. He kicks the asshole for good measure and glares down at him in disdain.

It's almost comical how we've all gone completely quiet, eyes wide and mouths parted. I don't think anyone has see this much emotion out of Wolfe before. The guy's a total machine. He doesn't get angry or protective or whatever the hell this sure was and he never gets involved in fights. Aside from boxing, the dude wouldn't touch a fly. So what the fuck was that?

"Baby." Cameron whispers to Avery. "Pinch me so I know this is actually happening."

Avery wordlessly pinches his nipple without taking her eyes away and Cameron winces, rubbing his pec. "Okay. This is real."

"I didn't ask for your help." Lenny growls at Wolfe, breathing hard and pushing her hair away from her face. She glares up at him with her arms crossed almost defensively.

He doesn't seem offended, though. Instead, his eyes gradually roam down her body and back up before he tilts his head slightly, eyes sharp with curiosity. Is he...checking her out? I've never seen the big guy even spare a glance at another girl before. This is fucking bizarre.

"Lenny." Aria warns when she continues to watch Wolfe like she's shooting him with laser eyes or some shit. "He was just trying to help."

Lenny looks to her, then to us, and finally realizes that we're all openly gaping at them. That seems to snap her out of it and she clears her throat in clear embarrassment before reluctantly mumbling, "Thanks, I guess. You didn't have to do that."

A few tense seconds tick by where they just stare at each other until Wolfe finally shrugs, breaking the moment. Then he starts walking again like he didn't just go all he-man to defend Lenny and we have no choice but to follow him because the show is clearly over. All of us curiously glance between the two of them but when Lenny scowls and asks what our problem is, we put on a big show of trying to act casual—trying being the key word.

"That was interesting." I finally find it in me to say. I glance at Ria and drop my voice. "Lenny...I don't know her as well as you but that was clearly a freak out. Did something happen with her?"

Aria's pained expression is all the confirmation I need. "I can't say anything, Asher. She trusted me to keep it to myself."

"Hey, don't worry. I get it." I wrap an arm around her. "It's her story to tell."

"Thanks, babe." She sighs and rises up on her toes to kiss my cheek. "And congratulations on being the champion. How does it feel?"

I smile down at her, at the beautiful girl that was made to be mine, and grasp her chin so I can kiss her. When I pull away, I know I'm fucking beaming. "I've had my prize all along, Princess."

__________________________

A/N

As some of you may have already guessed...WOLFE AND LENNY ARE NEXT! You guys are finally getting a story on the big guy after four years of asking me! I'm so nervous because literally every single reader wants his story so the pressure is SO ON! Wish me luck lol I need it!

Also, how epic was Asher's match! I really felt the energy and passion and I had goosebumps writing it! I wanted it to be special since his story was so complicated I didn't even have room to incorporate boxing! So I hoped to end his one and only match with a bang.

WOW, this chapter is so much longer than I intended it to be but wrapping up a book is hard! We only have the epilogue left now...ONE MORE CHAPTER. THAT'S IT. HOW?

Please VOTE, comment and share if you liked this chapter!

Happy Reading :)