Her lips were soft. That was his first, surprised thought. She fit perfectly against him, and he was just wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer when he realized that he wasn’t imagining this. He’d actually done it. He jerked away, and she kept standing there, frozen, as if she had no idea what to do. She blinked those grey eyes at him, and couldn’t seem to think of anything to say.

But now that he’d kissed her once, it was going to torture him not to do it again. Tyler reached for her, scanning her eyes worriedly for rejection or anger. Once, women had thrown themselves at him—but he wasn’t that man anymore, and Jasmine would never have wanted that man, anyway. And now, Tyler didn’t know what kind of man he was anymore—or what he was supposed to do when he liked someone.

To his surprise, she stepped into the kiss and stood on tip-toe for his lips to come down on hers once more. Her fingers slid up around his neck, slick against the sweat, and although he had a passing moment of shame about her seeing him like this, she didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. She pressed herself willingly against him…

…for a moment. Then she apparently remembered who he was.

“You kissed me.”

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“You think you can just—wait, you’re sorry?” She frowned at him.

“I didn’t mean to…” He swallowed. “I’m sorry. And I’m all sweaty.”

To his surprise, he startled a genuine laugh out of her. “I’m a nurse. Sweat is the least bad thing I get on me.” Her eyes widened when she realized what she’d said. “But I’m clean now. I mean, my jacket’s clean. My scrubs aren’t, but that shouldn’t matter unless you…” She trailed off.

“I won’t lick them,” Tyler promised her, and she laughed again. He liked making her laugh, he realized. Hesitantly, he reached out to tuck in a stray curl. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Well, I’m guessing most women don’t yell at you,” she said with tart humor.

“No. They don’t.” He shrugged. “But lately…”

“Lately?” she prompted, when his voice trailed off.

He cleared his throat. “Nothing. Look, could I take you for a cup of coffee or something?”

“Coffee sounds nice.” She frowned. “Unless…you really want to? It’s not just so Michael can keep practicing?”

“What part of, ‘I can’t stop thinking about you’ didn’t make sense?” He allowed his own sarcastic humor to come out.

She didn’t smile. “Guys like you…” He waited, at a loss, and she finally gestured impatiently at herself. “Guys like you aren’t interested in someone who looks like me.”

“Why not? The makeup?” He used to say you could tell everything you needed to know about a woman from the way she dressed. He supposed he might still believe it—but he was looking for different things now.

“No, I mean, I’m…” She frowned at him. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“I honestly don’t have the first idea what you mean.” He pulled a shirt on over his head. “And you have the wrong idea about me, but I understand where you got it. I used to be that guy.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Which guy?”

“The jerk who went home with groupies,” he said bluntly. “The shorter the skirt, the better.”

“What changed?” The grey eyes were alert.

“I lost a fight,” he said brutally.

She didn’t say anything to that, only watched him as he got his coat and his bag. As they started out into the city, he was afraid she would ask him more about his past, but instead she sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry, you know.”

“Hmm?” He looked over at her, and resisted the urge to reach over and take her hand.

“For yelling at you.” One shoulder lifted. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. Sixteen seemed so young to me, and in some ways, Michael is still my little kid brother who fell off the counter trying to get cookies. But he has to learn to be a man. He…found a way to deal with anger without letting it affect his school. Or us. I’m proud of him.”

“I’m glad,” Tyler said honestly. “You should be. Your brother’s going to be a remarkable man. But don’t apologize.”

“No?”

“No. I…admire it, really. You came in there all fiery, and it was clear you cared about him so much. For a long time, I haven’t cared about anyone that way. You wanted to protect your brother, and a few months ago that wouldn’t even have made sense to me. But this job has taught me a lot about that. It’s, ah…”

“What?” She was smiling as she looked over at him, and he was embarrassed by the revelation.

“Well, I guess you could say it’s saving my life.”

She considered for most of a block. “Saving you from what?”

“Success. Sounds pretty stupid, but it’s true. I wasn’t ready for it, and it ate me up. After I lost, I had nothing to live for. It showed me that I didn’t have what it took to win. I’d just gotten lucky before, I guess. They don’t get it, either, those boys. They keep getting on my case about tournaments and…”

“You only ever lost once?” Jasmine asked him.

“Yeah.” He held open the door for her and she preceded him into the little diner.

“So why do you think you just got lucky the other times?”

“Well, I was fast, but I didn’t…” He shook his head. “I don’t know, I guess. I feel like I didn’t earn my success. It took losing to show me that.”

“Who beat you?”

“A kid I’d trained with.” He shook his head as the coffee mugs were set down in front of them. “I always thought I was better than he was. But he kept training and I got sloppy, see. Too many drugs. Too many late nights. I was skipping practice. And in the end…it caught up with me.”

“None of that is luck,” Jasmine told him flatly. She raised her eyebrows. “You were born with talent. If you worked like that other kid did, you could have beaten him.”

“So?”

She considered, searching for the words. “So you said when success came for you, you weren’t ready for it. Maybe that’s because you never had anything to work for. When you told me that you knew how my brother needed an outlet, I’m guessing that’s true. Maybe now, seeing what it means to someone else, you can see why it’s important to work for your wins—and your success would feel earned. Then it wouldn’t eat you up.”

He felt his lips twitch in a weak smile. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” She shook her head at him. “I saw you when you said you used to be good. Your face lit up and then just crashed down again. You want to get back in the ring. I’m not going to say you just run away, because it sounds like that life was killing you. But I think you’ve figured yourself out—and now maybe you want to win again.”

“I don’t even know…”

“Maybe start by taking the advice you give the guys,” she said quietly. “Michael told me, you know. He wanted me to know you were a good guy. He told me how you’re always telling them to do their absolute best on the fundamentals, push themselves until they’re tired, always striving to do their best.”

“And then what?” He stared at her bleakly.

“Then you get back in the ring.”

“What if I lose?” The words were harsh.

“You’ve done that already,” she said. Her smile was gentle. “It didn’t kill you. And you can’t win if you don’t fight. Tyler…I can’t even remember a time when I had something I wanted to win like that. But you have something. Fight for it. And—what?”

Tyler couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “I think I need to kiss you again.”