1 Last Shot (The Fight Game, #4)

by Nikki Castle

And God, if I thought he was hot at the gym, all sweat-drenched and with his tattoos on display, it’s nothing compared to the sight of him straddling a bike.

“You have no idea how annoying it is to know that you can do that without even trying.” I let out a bark of startled laughter. Fuck, when was the last time someone made me laugh?

"Such a furious little ballerina," he murmurs, his lip curling into a smirk. He reaches to attach the strap for me.

"You're the first girl to ride bitch. Is that what you're asking?" I glare at the back of his head, even though the admission makes the butterflies in my stomach take off. "Has anyone ever told you that you're shockingly charming?" He revs the engine. "It's practically my main descriptor."

“Hang on and try not to come again.”

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."

“Good girl,” Kane praises, those two words doing more to me than my first boyfriend managed to do in an entire year. I think Kane knows it, too, because his lip twitches when I feel my cheeks flame.

"You play the part, but it's just an act, isn't it? Underneath all that lace and sweetness, you're actually a tigress. You're strong, and passionate, and you’re so fucking sexy."

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

“Now drive the bike over to the side of the building where no one can see what I’m about to do to you.”

"Give me one more, princess,” Kane growls into my skin. “Come all over my bike for me. I want it to be the only thing I can think of every time I ride it from now on."

"What on earth does unhappy Kane look like?" I wonder sarcastically as I lean down to pull the pan out and set it on the stovetop. I'm so mesmerized by the sight of our cheesy, perfect meal, I don't realize Kane has stepped up behind me until his arms go around my waist. He tightens his grip and nuzzles into my neck, and his voice is quiet when he says, "It's getting harder and harder to remember."

"Kane, you deserve to have someone care about you," she says firmly. "You deserve to be loved. Do you hear me? Isabella isn't settling for you. She's been choosing you. Every day. Because you're worthy of being chosen."

I just launch into a burpee. And then four more. Coach laughs so hard he almost falls over. And just like that, I become part of a family.