She freezes mid chew but starts up again and swallows. “Nine months. Give or take.”

“How did you end up with a girl like Trix for a roomie?” It seems like an odd pairing. Trix has been around, trolling the bars Ataxia plays at for as long as we’ve been playing. Trolling doesn’t seem like Mac’s style.

“When I moved here, I got a job as a bartender at Zeus’s.” She picks a string of cheese from her pizza and pops it in her mouth, and my eyes get stuck on how her full lips wrap around her fingertips.

I suppress a groan and give a non-committal “Mm-hm” for her to go on.

“I came to Vegas looking for something. Thought I’d find it at Zeus’s, but I was too late.” She shrugs and takes a bite, casual for someone who just dropped the kind of verbal mindbender she did.

“What were you looking for?” I have to know. I mean this girl doesn’t seem like the type with exotic-dancing wishes and showgirl dreams.

Swiveling in her barstool, she faces me head on. “You.”

My stomach hums with a flash of adrenaline. “Excuse me?”

Her body crumbles in on itself, and the light ringing sound of her laughter fills the air. What the hell? She puts her hand on her chest and blows a long breath from her lips, her eyes still dancing with humor. “I’m sorry. You should’ve seen your face.” Shaking her head, she turns back to her pizza.

“Comedian. Hilarious.” I grin through my sarcasm. The girl’s a little strange, funny, but definitely off.

“No, I came to Vegas to find peace.”

“In Vegas? This place is the definition of uncontrolled chaos.”

She opens her water and leans back in her chair, eyes forward, quiet. “Yeah, makes my search harder.”

“I take it you haven’t found it?”

It’s then her eyes find mine; a small smile tilts her lips. “Not yet.”

If it were only that easy to find peace, you could take up stakes and move somewhere new, leaving behind the shit you don’t feel like carrying. Too bad all baggage isn’t carry on. Some of it latches on whether you want to bring it or not. I’m living proof of that, but I keep my mouth shut, leaving Mac to discover that on her own. Although, if her nightmares are any indication, my guess is she’s already learned it.

“Where’d you move from?” I take a swig of my shake.

She puts down her pizza and looks at me. “You’re not having any?”

“Nope. Dropping weight. Fight this weekend.”

Her face pales. “Fight?”

“Yeah. UFL ninety-four. I’m on the ticket with Blake.”

Her hand moves to cup her neck. She swallows hard. “Do you um . . . do you have to?”

Is she kidding? “Yeah, Mac, I have to. It’s my job, not to mention a great opportunity and smart career move.” I laugh, shaking my head. Why does she look so nervous? “You should come.”

Eyes wide, she gapes at me. “Yes, er . . . no?”

Leaning in, I rest my elbow on the counter. “Yes and no?”

Nervous laughter bubbles from her throat. “No, I don’t want you to fight, but yes, I’ll go.”

“Don’t want me to fight?”

“I, uh”—she studies her knees—“hate watching you get hurt.”

She must’ve seen my fights in the past, but the last fight I had on live TV was over a year ago before she moved to Vegas. Which reminds me, she never answered my question.

“Where did you live before Vegas, Mac?” I can’t place the feeling, but something feels off. My therapist would probably tell me that having a person in my home for a prolonged period of time is bound to make me a little paranoid.

Paranoia is something I’m used to, the feeling that eyes are on me even in my own place. Mac said she’s been watching me, but damn, for how long?

“Nothing,” she whispers.

“Huh?”

She turns to face me completely. “Before here, I lived in Nothing, Arizona.”

No fucking way? That’s the last place I lived before Vegas. It’s nothing more than a town you drive through between Kingman and Vegas. What are the chances that Mac lived there too?

I shrug, acting casual, and finish off my shake. “That town as boring as its name?” I can’t tell her that I lived there too. She’ll ask questions, and the only answers I have are not anything I want to share with anyone. Ever.

“You’ve never been there?” It’s a question, but something about the way she asks makes it seem like something else.

“Why would I ever need to visit a place called Nothing, Arizona?”

“Yeah, um.” She shakes her head, picks up her pizza and brings it to her lips. “I guess you wouldn’t.”

After Mac finishes another piece of pizza, I clean up the kitchen. She offers to help, but I need to do it on my own to alleviate the anxiety that hums below the surface.

She sits at the island. We talk about The Blackout and exchange crazy stories about Trix. I make sure to stick to subjects of the present and don’t probe too far in the past. By the time I’m drying my hands, Mac’s doubled over laughing and I’m leaning back enjoying the view.

“She walked out buck naked and asked for a smoke?” The wide mouth grin she’s wearing is contagious.

“Yep, didn’t even seem fazed.” God, I can’t take my eyes off her.

“Wow, that’s upsetting, but strangely not at all surprising.” She must sense me staring as her laughter dies and our eyes meet.

“I had fun with you today.” It’s not a lie. I did. It’s been so long since I had a day that wasn’t focused on the band, fighting, or all the other shit that rolls around in my head. Not to mention the victory I’m feeling at going out with Mac and having her over in the same day. Guess Darren was right. I am capable of more than I think.

“Me too.”

She’s so beautiful and even more so now that I’ve gotten to know her better. In the few moments that we’ve flirted and I’ve purposely on accident put my hands on her, I’ve felt good. Even now, I want to do it again. The impulse to drag my knuckles down the side of her face, sift my fingers into her hair, and take her lips is overwhelming, not disgusting.

“It’s getting late.” She pushes back from the island and stands from her barstool. “I better go.”

No! “Yeah.” I check the clock. Ten p.m. Damn. “I’ve got to be at the training center early.”

She moves from the kitchen toward the living space, and I grab my keys. I tell myself that letting her go tonight is okay because I’ll get to see her in a couple days. She not only agreed to go to my fight but she even said she’d be fine in the UFL wife-seating area. They’re close to my corner, and as nervous as she seems, it’ll be good to have her sandwiched between Raven and Layla.

Clicking off the TV, I watch her move toward the front door. The visual of her in my condo reminds me of everything I’ve overcome in the short span since watching baseball at Jonah’s. The usual weight that lives in my chest is still there, but only a fraction of what it was before. I take a deep breath and relax into the new freedom.

Damn it feels good. I’m greedy for more.

She’s at the door, bending forward to get her shoes, and I’m ready to push myself one step further.

My body responds before my brain registers it. In three quick strides, I’m at her back. She straightens, not knowing I’m right behind her, and the sweet island smell of her hair wafts beneath my nose.

I do the only thing I can.

I lunge.

~*~

Mac

“Oh my . . . shit!” I’m pressed face forward against the closed door of Rex’s condo. The cool wood seeps through my thin cotton tank while the heat of his body is at my back. A small prickle of fear crawls over my skin before I feel his lips at my neck.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He growls his apology against the tender flesh below my ear. “I had to touch you.”

I hold off a moan and concentrate on not falling limp in his arms. His hands find mine splayed against the door. He interweaves our fingers, fisting my smaller ones in his, and pushes them up above my head. I’m helpless. Incapacitated by his strength and the position he’s put me in.

“Rex . . .”

He flexes his hips against my ass as a reprimand of some kind, but it feels like a reward. A groan of pleasure falls from my lips, and my head drops back against his shoulder.

“You okay?” He runs his lips up and down the side of my neck, dragging that damn piece of metal along in strokes of pure torture.

“Yeah, just . . . more.”

The low grumble of his laugh rolls against my back, sending shivers of ecstasy and anticipation down my spine. I arch my back, requesting his touch.

“Aw, fuuuck.” He slams his hips into me, and the feeling of pure steel at my lower back robs me of breath.

He hasn’t even touched me, and we’re fully clothed, but a few more of those and I’ll fall apart in a blistering orgasm that’ll knock my legs out from under me.

“Here’s the way it’s gonna be, baby.” He drops a lingering kiss at my neck. “I need to be in control.” Another slow kiss at my jawline. “Nod if you understand.”

I nod quickly. Anything, whatever, just please don’t stop.

His hands holding mine flex. “These stay here at all times.” He nuzzles the nape of my neck. “You smell fucking amazing.”

“Rex—”

“No talking.” He growls against my skin, but this time there’s more than hunger laced in his response. It sounds like pain.

I nod again and roll both my lips between my teeth, biting down to keep from talking. This needs to be perfect for him. Whatever is about to happen, I owe it to him to put my own desires aside to make this easy on him.

“It’s not about taking pleasure from your body; I’m not alone in this.” He runs his nose from my temple to my ear. “You let me know if I’m doing something you don’t want. Then you speak.”