Most days my body is sore in ways I didn’t know it could be. Axel isn’t always gentle, and I love that about him. My hand goes to my breast and between my thighs going slick as I remember exactly why I’m so sore.

We’re still not living together, technically, although one of us is over at the other’s house all the time. It’s almost like we have two houses.

I’m not sure how to feel about that, but I know I shouldn’t be imagining Axel taking me from behind at the kitchen table. Lark is still in bed. I’ll need to wake her up soon for breakfast—at my house today.

I’m always smiling now. Axel makes it impossible not to. Lark’s place it still set from where she’d been sitting there earlier, when she woke up in her excitement too early. I look at the time—that was maybe half an hour ago, and I still haven’t gotten her up. Axel should be here soon.

I’m already rising from my seat when I hear the knock on the door. I plan to tell Axel that he doesn’t need permission to come into our house. Even though this one is technically mine, we might as well share it.

He’s standing in the open door, knocking on the frame.

“Can I come in?” The smirk on his face makes my heart flutter.

“You don’t need to ask permission.” I’ve been waiting for him all morning. “I thought you were all excited.”

“I could take that one of two ways,” he says, his eyes roaming my body before he checks around the room to make sure our daughter isn’t here. I laugh. Axel’s not always a gentleman, but he is careful about being appropriate around her. I love that about him.

But … still. I try to turn my face stony and hope he won’t see the twinkle in my eye.

“You know what I meant. You’ve been begging me to let you cook for us for ages.” I cross my arms. He does the same. I’m about to try to imitate his eyebrow raise when he does it first, his brows both starting to waggle as I fake anger. “You’re the worst!”

“But you love me.” He walks toward me and folds me up in his arms. “So, how about breakfast?”

“Let me wake up Lark,” I whisper back against his lips.

He just grins. “I’ll come with you.”

So we both wake her up. And then we make breakfast together, all of us, even though Axel does most of the work and Lark tries to take credit for all of it. We finally sit down at the table to a breakfast of eggs, pancakes, berries, and …

“Bacon!” Axel almost moans and I roll my eyes at him. “Pass the syrup.”

Lark tries, her short little arm reaching across the table to pass it to him. She makes it almost half of the way there. Luckily, Axel’s tall enough to reach it. He takes the syrup and douses his bacon in it. Lark and I cringe.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” He shrugs, taking a huge bite of the sweet, wet meat.

“That’s horrible,” Lark says. She struggles sounding out the word, trying to say it the way I do when I’m teasing Axel for his antics.

“You sound just like your mother.” Axel laughs, still eating.

“She should,” I say, making a hand motion for the syrup as Axel passes it to me. I want to try it after all. “She learned the word from me.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, grinning over at Lark. “So, sunshine.” He grabs a pancake and puts another on her plate, even though she’s already gotten through two of them. “Have I ever told you that you have grandparents down in Florida?”

“No, but I already knew that.” Lark grins, proud of herself.

“How’s that?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Someone doesn’t remember what they put in her July fourth video,” I tease him. He hits my thigh with his under the table, and we all laugh as Lark proclaims she knows the words to all the videos by heart.

And I swear I think Axel blinks back a tear.

Axel convinces me to come watch one of his fights, probably because this is his first title fight and it’s a big deal. This will be the first one I’ve been to, if you don’t count the one where I walked in looking for him and found him drunk draped in babes.

He says that one doesn’t count.

We say everything we can think of before the bout. I tell him I love him, that he means the world to me and Lark, but Axel tells us we don’t have to worry.

Lark isn’t concerned, and she tells that to everyone we meet. She also tells everyone she sees that he’s her daddy, and I smile at how proud she is, even if it’s a little embarrassing.

We’re in the front row when she turns to a girl beside us. Lark points to Axel, saying, “I gave him a flower for good luck,” and everyone knows. There’s white petals on the way to the ring. Some people think it’s hilarious.

Most would probably think a boxer carrying a flower was some sort of softie who was going to get his butt kicked, but that’s not Axel.

Axel is tough. Resilient. I’ve always admired that about him. The girl besides Lark smiles at her and wishes her luck for her dad.

The referee comes over the loudspeaker and announces the fighters. When he calls Axel’s name, the crowd roars, and I beam with pride. He looks incredibly sexy up there, his muscles cut like he was shaped by a sculptor, his face so handsome with his jaw set in that determined line.

It’s the biggest fight of his life, but Axel’s a big boxer.

Unfortunately, the guy he’s fighting is even bigger.

The bell rings, and the battle begins. Axel and his opponent exchange jabs. My heart rises to my throat, and I pray that he keeps his hands up to protect his head. I know he’s well-trained, strong, and capable, but I’m still so worried he’s going to get hurt.

One particularly punishing hit he takes makes me gasp in horror. I’m about to cover Lark’s eyes when I see she’s into this. My mouth falls open, but I stop worrying about her as much and force myself to watch the match.

When round one ends. Both boxers take a break for water, and Axel gives me a thumbs-up. My heart feels like it wants to jump right out of my chest. Lark’s clapping the entire time.

Round two opens with the two men dancing around the ring, feeling each other out. It’s not until mid-way through the round that they start exchanging punches.

The fight goes on and on. Lark cheers every time Axel hits his rival. I cringe the whole time, nervous as hell that he’s going to get felled like a tree. My biggest fear is seeing him hit the mat.

But he doesn’t. In fact, as the fight rolls on, Axel seems to be getting stronger, while his opponent appears to be growing weaker.

By the last round, I think that Axel is winning, but I’m not sure. I know enough about boxing to know that the only way to ensure a victory is to knock your opponent out.

At the sound of the bell signaling the start to the last round, Axel comes out of his corner bouncing with energy. He points to me and Lark before charging at his opponent and unleashing a flurry with his fists on the body of his rival.

“That’s called letting his hands go,” Lark tells me.

“How do you know this stuff?” I ask, floored.

She shrugs. “That’s my daddy,” she says and goes back to watching the fight.

This onslaught stops the current champ in his tracks, and he stumbles in the direction of his corner.

Not one to show mercy until the bell rings, Axel stalks him down and finishes him off with a strong uppercut to the jaw.

The bigger man wobbles for a second before Axel steps out of the way and lets him fall.

Then the ref is over him, counting. “One, two, three, four …” He gets all the way to ten and there’s no sign the champ is getting up, so he indicates the fight is over.

The fallen man’s corner men jump in the ring and help him to his feet.

But the referee is already raising Axel’s hand in the air, declaring him the winner.

Lark squeals and is trying to crawl into the ring before anyone can stop her. I scramble to follow her, still horrified by what just happened and by how happy my baby is about all this.

They bring out this massive shiny belt and declare Axel the new middleweight champion of the world. This blows my mind, but Axel takes it in stride, lifting the belt over his head and parading around the ring showing it off to fans. Lark can’t stop jumping up and down.

After the initial excitement dies down, a reporter comes to interview him. The woman asks about me and Lark.

“That’s my daughter.” He beams at Lark. “She seems like she’ll be wanting boxing lessons.”

Everyone laughs. Then he puts an arm around me, pulling me into the camera shot. “This is the love of my life. And hopefully my future wife.”

He looks into my eyes as he says this, and I melt.

Then he grabs the microphone for the arena from the referee, and says, “I have some news.”

He coughs and waits for the room to go silent. It takes a second, and he speaks louder. “I know some of you didn’t expect me to come here today, and some of you judged me for being a family man.”

He looks directly at Barry before his eyes meet the crowd. “And some of you thought I wouldn’t show up. But here I am. I came, I fought, and I prevailed.”

Cheers go up through the crowd.

After they quiet, he continues, “From now on, my focus will be on my girls—Olive and Lark.” He smiles at both us. “As much as I love this, I love them more. Thank you for all your support. Good night.”

Then he throws the mike down and takes me in his arms, kissing me violently as the cameras flash on us both. The crowd is screaming, and I can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad thing, so I just press myself as close to him as I can, needing him to keep me safe in this crazy environment I know nothing about.

In the distance, I hear Barry ranting, and Selena urging him to calm down, telling him this won’t ruin Axel’s career.

And it doesn’t. It makes the media love him even more. We pose like darlings, and the crowd screams his name—Axel Reign—Champion of the world.