She was nervous when they parked in what looked like an abandoned, decrepit parking lot with barbed wire fencing. But no way in hell was she going to let it show. Sam already felt way overdressed, and slipped out of the white jacket, pulled the silky cami out of her skirt and made do with a makeshift minidress ensemble.

“I told you, nobody’s going to be looking at your outfit,” Connor told her as he opened her door. She shrugged it off, but took his hand.

The party was in an undisclosed warehouse, the only hint of nightlife the occasional blare of music that sounded when the doorman let groups in or out.

“What you want?” the doorman asked, an imposing man the color of midnight. He barely glanced at Sam.

Connor leaned into the man and whispered something to him, which opened the gates to the roar inside. “Was that a Fight Club quote?” she asked him. Sam had to hurry in her heels to keep up.

“Maybe it was,” Connor said. As they walked through a thick mess of curtains at the end of the hall, the click of her heels still echoed in the steel chamber, but below them and all around them were throngs of people. Kanye’s “Black Skinhead” blasted through the speakers.

Sam was nervous as hell.

“Come on,” Connor shouted into her ear. “Let’s get you a drink.” It was barely dark outside, and yet the people were slick with sweat. Molly-infused mayhem surrounded her.

As she waited by the bar behind Connor, she ran over the conservations she’d had with Chase and Jay. Connor had been wrong when he’d said his friends hadn’t cared for his ex much. They absolutely loathed her. Of course, the guys had been drunk, but didn’t that make them more honest—albeit a bit abrupt?

“Nobody was surprised she cheated,” Chase had told her, his voice slurred. “We were just surprised it took him so long to catch her red-handed. Excuse me, black-handed.”

“Chase, that’s racist,” Jay had said.

“How’s it racist? It’s true!”

Sam had simply smiled and shook her head while tactfully changing the subject. However, they both kept mentioning the ex over and over. Why do you care? Be professional, and don’t fall into any of these traps laying around.

“So, what is this, some kind of warehouse party thing where everyone’s high on E?” she shouted to him as he handed her an angry red cocktail.

“In part,” he said.

“What’s the other part?” she yelled at him.

“I’ll show you.” He took her hand, held it tight against his back, and started to lead her away from the massive dance area. In the back, behind steel doors which required yet another flurry of secret codes, there was no music. There was no dancing. There was just a cage topped with razor wire.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, and stopped abruptly. “Connor, if this is some kind of sick dog fighting thing—”

“Dog fighting?” he asked, incredulous. “Don’t be ridiculous. You think I’d be into that?”

“Then what is it?”

“Underground MMA.”

She breathed a slight sigh of relief, but was still on edge. She’d heard about these kinds of things, but didn’t think they really existed. Or that she’d know someone who was into it. “So, are you betting?” she asked.

“Liam!” Connor yelled, and motioned to a short, muscular guy in a worn-out Everlast t-shirt.

Liam grinned when he saw Connor, gave him a nod, and continued to the abandoned DJ booth. “Alright you sick fucks, it’s on in twenty. See Bernard to place your wagers.”

“It’s your new besties,” Connor told her before she could say anything, and nodded to the door. Chase and Jay made their way inside. “Guys, watch out for Sam, alright? And you stick close to them,” he told her.

“What are you—”

But Connor was already gone, disappeared into the darkness. “So, you come here often?” Jay teased her.

“All the time,” she said, distracted. “What’s he doing?”

“He’ll be back in a minute,” Chase said.

“So, is this where you pick up girls?” she asked. Sam tried to make light of the situation, but she was nervous and felt out of place.

“Let’s get a drink,” Jay said, and ushered the three of them to the quiet bar in the back. She looked down at her hand and realized she’d already downed the one Connor had given her.

“I know it seems weird, but a lot of military guys come here to blow off steam,” Chase said. “They dance with some hot girl. They fight. You know.”

She didn’t know, but she also didn’t want to act put off.

“You know the rules of MMA?”

She shook her head, and Chase gave her a quick rundown. “That sounds insane,” she said.

He laughed. “That’s the point.”

“Here we go,” Jay said. She turned, and the ring was lit up with blinding spotlights.

Liam was back in the booth. “Wagers are officially closed. Connor and Zohaib in the cage. Guys, we went over the rules backstage. Let’s keep it clean. Or, hell, you know what I mean.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. She would have recognized Connor anywhere, but he’d shed his suit in favor of boxing shorts cinched at the waist and nothing but wraps on his hands and feet.

She couldn’t help but drink him all in. The chiseled stomach and pecs, the flawless muscles bunched up his arms and shoulders. That delicious V-shape that flew wildly down his torso. There was something animalistic in all of this that turned her on instantly.

Sam looked at the other guy, who seemed to be well matched in size and muscle to Connor. She worried her bottom lip, unsure of what to think. “Don’t worry,” Jay said into her ear. “Connor will be fine.”

A bell rang from somewhere that seemed far away, and Connor and his opponent were instantly at each other. She put her drink down and covered her eyes when Connor took a hit squarely to the jaw, but quickly peeked between her fingers. Connor had the guy against the cage, which rattled rapidly. Connor punched him viciously in the stomach.

Blood was splattered across both their faces and chests. Connor’s white shorts were flecked in bright red. Relatively, it was fast—ten minutes at most. But it was way too long for Sam.

They were suddenly surrounded by people who pushed and cheered. The entirety of the dance floor must have been crammed into the back room. Every time a blow was landed, especially on Connor, she cringed.

He pinned down his opponent and went at him with unreal swiftness. Finally, the opponent tapped the cage floor. “It’s over,” Chase told her. She let out a long breath, unaware that she’d been holding it.

Liam was holding up Connor’s fist, which was covered in blood. Chase and Jay went nuts beside her, whooping Connor’s name, but she couldn’t find the strength to do more than lower her hands away from her face. Connor and his opponent hugged briefly and patted each other’s back as they exited.

Connor bounded out of the cage and jogged over to them. She noticed every girl he passed followed him lustfully with her eyes.

“Good work, man,” Chase said, and pounded Connor’s back.

“Wasn’t nothing,” Connor said, his breath already returned to normal.

Sam looked at him, inches away. Covered in a sheen of sweat and patches of already-dried blood, she saw another side of him. A rawer side, the one few people knew. As they made eye contact, she licked her lips, thirsty.

Connor’s gaze moved to her lips. The kiss was inevitable. But when she tasted him, the salty, coppery blend, it turned her on even more. When his tongue flicked against hers, she felt wetness start to spread between her legs and let out a moan into his mouth.

She felt his hand on her waist as he pulled her close. His other hand was in her hair, and he pulled tight.

Jay cleared his throat and laughed awkwardly. “You guys want to get a room?” he asked.

Sam broke away from the embrace, flushed and her breath heavy. She knew she should be embarrassed, apologize to Jay, but she just couldn’t stop herself. Connor looked so intense up there, and during the fight, in her deepest thoughts, all she’d wanted was to be the focus of that intensity. Is that normal?

Someone called Connor’s name in the distance and he looked away from her. The spell was broken. What in God’s name are you thinking?

It wasn’t that big of a deal to kiss him in front of his friends. Besides, they’d kissed before, at that club. But that was different. And it didn’t feel like this.

Still, it was to be expected that they kiss in public. Otherwise, how were they going to sell this whole thing? Stop making excuses and rationalizing it to yourself. You know you didn’t kiss him as part of your job.

A blonde who barely fit into her dress sidled up next to Connor. “Oh my God, you were amazing! Amazing!” she said.

He laughed. “Thanks, Tiffany,” he said, and gave her a pat on the shoulder.

Sam stiffened and picked up her drink. Right. You have good reason to steer clear of him. Not only did his friends spend two hours talking smack about his ex to you, but you swore you’d stay professional—to him and yourself.

The blonde gushed all over him, and she had to admit Connor gave some effort to ward off her affections. But he didn’t introduce her to Sam. Instead, he tried to hand her off to Jay. “Have you met my buddy, Jay?” he asked Tiffany. “Ex-SEAL, too. I’m sure you’ll see him in there next.”

Tiffany glanced at Jay and considered. She was easy to read. But Tiffany had eyes only for Connor, that was evident.

Sam slipped away while Jay ogled Tiffany and Chase went back to the bar for another drink. Connor didn’t even see her go. She looked back once, and saw the blonde feel up Connor’s muscles.

She was already halfway home in an Uber when he texted her. Where are you?

Sam considered not replying, but knew that was childish. Omw home. Tired, had to go, she replied. She wanted, so badly, to say something snarky about him letting the blonde flirt with him, but stopped herself.

Ok. You mad? I just kissed you because of the fight, u know. Adrenaline gets me going, can’t help it.

It’s okay, she replied. Probably good for the show, she added.

I would’ve kissed anyone, he replied. You just happened to be there.

She slammed the phone onto the seat. You’re such a fucking fool, she thought.

“You alright back there?” the Uber driver asked, a young girl probably in college.

“Yeah. Just so you know, men suck. And they continue to suck way after college.”

“That’s why I’m gay,” the driver said.

“Oh.”

“I’m just kidding. I mean, about the reason why I’m gay. But trust me, women are just as batshit crazy.”

“So there’s no hope then,” Sam said as the car pulled into her driveway.