Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“Nothing.” She shrugs, then sighs. “Magic is a mega-douche. All the headlines are about your win. But he’s already doing interviews about how he wants a rematch because he wasn’t at ‘his best’ and he’s still a better fighter than you.”
Laughter bubbles and rushes out of me. “He can’t even lose with dignity, huh? Fuck him. Everyone saw that KO.”
A little smile twitches at the corners of her mouth. She scoops her phone off the bed and flicks it on. “This is one of the photos they’re running with the story about his whining.”
She turns the phone my way. The screen’s filled with a stunning image of my fist smashing into Magic’s jaw. His head tilted to the side, eyes already rolling back in his head, sweat flying. Pure, vicious fury stretching my face into something I barely recognize. “God damn. That’s an impressive photo.”
“There are dozens of them like it. But that’s probably my favorite one of the fight.” She wrinkles her nose. “There’s one of you smashing your knee in his face, but it’s a little bloody.”
I definitely need to see that one.
I pat the bed next to me and, for the next hour or so, we scroll through all the different write-ups about the fight together. More than half of the articles also feature an image of me lifting Molly in the air in the middle of the cage.
The caption reads: Biggest Night of His Life and Girlfriend is Still the Prize. “This is my favorite.” I turn the screen toward her.
She sighs and stares at the image. “Mine too.”
“The caption’s true, you know. Whoever this Brynn Banner is who wrote it, is a fucking genius.”
She stares at the picture for a few more seconds, then rolls her eyes. “Remy’s so mad about that one.” She taps the screen where her dress got pulled up a little and my arms are the only thing stopping the camera from capturing a much racier picture.
“Tell him to unclench. I got you.” I glance at the photo again. “You’re hot as hell.”
“A bunch of creeps in the comment section would agree. That’s what Remy’s annoyed about.”
“What? Where?” I scroll farther down.
Molly’s hand closes around my phone and she pulls it from my grasp. “That’s enough.”
I don’t have the energy to argue. “Come here.”
She squeezes in close, and I pull her against my side. She rests her head on my chest and one leg over mine.
“I love you, Muffin.”
“I love you too.” She carefully rests her arm over my chest and hugs me.
The thoughts that have been swirling around in my head since I arrived in Vegas spill out of my mouth. “Let’s get married. This week. Before we go home.”
Molly slowly lifts her head and blinks at me. Excitement and confusion play over her face. “But this week is supposed to be about you. You won your first professional fight.”
I trace my finger over her cheek. “Marrying you would be the biggest win of my life.”
She lets out a happy sigh and leans into my touch. “Mine too.”
Then anxious Molly checks into the conversation. “But where would we live? I don’t want to go back to New York and live in the dorms while you’re all the way in Johnsonville. That’s not how we should start our marriage.”
“You have to finish school.”
“I don’t want to live in the dorms anymore, anyway.”
I nod quickly. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.”
“You have?”
“When we get home, I want to look for an apartment or a house to rent near campus.”
“What do you mean?” She frowns. “Why would we waste money on an apartment when we can live at home and I’ll commute—”
“No.” I cut her off quickly. “You need to be near school. And I want to be with you. It’s not that long of a commute for me. There are all those nice houses with apartments for rent around the college. We’ll look for one of those.”
“You’d do that?”
“I’d do anything for you.” I squeeze her leg.
“But then you’ll be an hour away from everything important to you—The Castle, your job, the gym you work out at, all your friends…”
“You’re the most important thing to me. The Castle isn’t going anywhere. Jerry pretty much lets me come in when I want, I can find a new gym or just go there after work, and our friends can make the drive to visit us.”
“You really have been thinking about this,” she says.
“Yup. This way you can roll out of bed, walk to class, come home for lunch if you want, stay at the library as late as you need to. You can still have your full college experience. Without all the noise on the weekends.”
“I can take classes online, you know,” she insists.
Why is she being so stubborn when what I’m proposing is the best solution? “But you say you prefer going in person. It helps you learn better.”