1 Last Shot (The Fight Game, #4)

by Nikki Castle

I suck in a breath at the sight of his sweaty, tattoo-covered body. A bolt of heat flashes through my body at the same time that my lungs demand more oxygen. There are no words for a man that looks like this.

He has no smile lines. None. Not only is the skin around his eyes smooth, the wrinkles that should be starting to show around his mouth are turned down, in the opposite direction of where they should be going. If Kane's seen any happiness in his life, there isn't a hint of it on his face.

She bites her lip after a moment, which I've noticed she does when she's thinking hard about something. It just makes me want to bite her myself.

Another laugh sounds from her lips, and I ingest it like it's air I need to breathe.

"I got tired of always having to fight,” I add. “I needed to get away from it all." "Or maybe you were tired of surviving," she says absentmindedly, her gaze on where she's twirling her empty mug. "Maybe you wanted to learn how to live, instead."

You could be the greatest dancer that ever lived, and I'd still think the rest of you was more valuable.

I've been stuck for so long in the now, focused so much on just surviving today, that it never occurred to me to look at tomorrow. Didn't think I even could.

This isn’t your 1 last shot to get it right, this is us trying, every day. And some days will be good, and some will be bad, but every day, we keep fighting. Together. Because I would rather live in your world, with your arms around me and your heart against my palm, than anywhere else. I want you, Kane. Never doubt that."

And as I shut my front door, I can’t help feeling like I’m closing the door on my past. I’m ready to lean into a future I never thought I could have, but will be thankful for every second of the rest of my life.