Nolan felt completely out of place as he walked down the ill-lit corridor, clutching a dozen roses in his fist. When they’d talked the night before, after the ceremonial weigh-ins, Nolan and Bridget agreed that he wasn’t going to come see her in the dressing room before the fight. He was conflicted about watching the fight and contemplated, for a brief second, not attending the actual match, but thanks to Cal and Tobias’s thorough dressing-down, he realized he would be foolish to not be at the fight to support her. So he sucked it up and watched every excruciating minute. He was glad he did, but he was also glad that Bridget was true to her word and didn’t get hit a lot. He didn’t think he could stand it.

After the fight, Nolan proceeded to the fighters’ area. He flashed the pass at the security guard and slipped into the dingy dressing room to wait for Bridget to return from the post-fight press conference. After knocking over a cart of wraps and tape, Nolan perched on the edge of a chair, facing the door, to wait for his fighter.

He was jittery, bouncing his knees up and down and wiggling in the seat. If he was this hyped up after one of Bridget’s fights, he could only imagine what she felt like. Time seemed to crawl, and Nolan checked his watch every minute or so to see how much time had passed.

He’d just leaned his head against the wall when he heard the snick of a door opening. He grabbed the roses from the small table where he’d laid them and was getting to his feet when a dark head of hair peeked in the door.

The dark head of a man.

“Bridget? Where’s my little Birdie girl?” the man singsonged as he entered the room. “Congratulations, ba—” He froze, and the grin crumbled from his face when he saw Nolan. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I might ask you the same thing.” Nolan stood up to his full formidable height. He had a sneaking suspicion who the little brunet man was, and if he was right, he wanted to give Kevin Donahue the scare he so richly deserved.

The other man pointed to the center of his chest. “I’m her husband, Kevin,” he sneered. “Now, I’m gonna ask you again: Who. The fuck. Are you?”

Nolan took a deep, calming breath. “The name’s Nolan Harper.”

“And? What the fuck are you doing creeping around her dressing room, hmm?” Kevin took two strides forward. He looked from the top of Nolan’s head down to his feet, seemingly sizing him up.

“I might ask you the same question.” Nolan arched an eyebrow, and he noted with satisfaction the twitch that appeared in the vein in the smaller man’s temple.

“What?”

“What are you doing creeping around Bridget’s dressing room? How the hell did you even get back here?”

“I might ask you the same thing,” Kevin said mockingly and smirked at Nolan.

“I’m her guest.” Nolan calmly blinked at Kevin and held up his pass with “Bridget Doherty—Guest” scrawled on the back. “I’m guessing you can’t say the same thing.”

“I’m her husband,” Kevin repeated.

“Ex-husband,” Nolan corrected. He looked up at the corner of the room and put his index finger on the side of his mouth. “And, if I’m not mistaken, her opponent’s fiancé, correct?”

And then Kevin laughed. “Oh man, you actually think Bridg is gonna get with you. With you?”

Nolan stood there, impassive, and watched Kevin hold his stomach, bent over and cackling. He had a flickering moment of insecurity, of doubt, of all the cruel taunts and rejections that he’d endured for the past thirty-eight years. And then he snapped out of it because he knew Bridget wanted him, all of him. All his extra weight, physical and emotional, meant nothing to her, and he knew that when she stepped through that door, if Kevin was foolish enough to still be in this room, she was going to see two things: Kevin’s dumb ass knocked out cold on the floor and the man who was going to be making love to her as soon as he could get her alone and naked.

Kevin took another step toward Nolan, getting close enough to him that he had to crane his neck to meet the taller man’s eyes. “Fuck Hanna Kowalczyk. She’s a stupid cunt. She’s a loser. I knew she was gonna lose the second I saw the tape of the weigh-in. And you know what? Kevin Donahue doesn’t date losers. Bridget belongs to me, me. Not a fat fuck like you.” Kevin poked Nolan in the chest.

“I would seriously reconsider touching me, bud.”

Kevin poked Nolan again, this time in his side. “Jesus Christ, you’re soft like a fat woman.” Another poke.

“Dude. This fat fuck is going to lay you out in about thirty seconds if you don’t get the hell out of this dressing room.”

“Oh yeah?” Another poke. “Make me.”

Nolan debated for a split second, and then Kevin swung at him.

Wrong move, shrimp.

Nolan caught Kevin’s fist in one big paw and bent his wrist backward.

“Oh, shit.”

Nolan nodded. “Night, shithead.” And he rapped along the side of Kevin’s neck.

Bridget came in a few moments later to find Nolan sitting back in the chair and Kevin splayed out on the floor.

“Wh-what the hell?” Bridget looked at Nolan, then at Kevin, and back at Nolan before falling to her knees at Kevin’s side.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Nolan belatedly reconsidered knocking Kevin out.

“Kevin? Kevin?” Bridget looked back at Nolan. “What did you do to him?”

Nolan shrugged. “I hit him in the brachial plexus.”

Bridget’s eyebrows arched. “Come again?”

“I hit him in the brachial plexus. I told him I was gonna do it. I gave him a thirty-second warning. He didn’t listen.”

Kevin groaned and shook his head, regaining consciousness. “Birdie girl, oh my God.”

He looked around frantically, blanching when he saw Nolan sitting in a nearby chair. “Keep him away from me!” He scuttled away from Nolan, who idly considered sticking his long leg out and tripping him up. “He knocked me out! I’m going to press charges!”

Bridget’s eyebrows returned to their normal height, and she narrowed her eyes. “What the hell did you do, Kevin?”

“N-n-nothing! I just came in to congratulate you on your win.”

“Uh-huh.” She pursed her lips.

Nolan recognized that look. He covered his mouth with his hand, hoping to appear concerned, but really, he was hiding a grin.

“I did! I did! You looked great, really great out there, Bridg. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, honey. We had twelve great years together, Bridget. Do you really wanna throw all that away?”

“News flash, motherfucker,” she exploded at him. “I am not the one who had an affair; you are. I’m not the one who gave your new fiancée the engagement ring that belonged to your ex-wife, the ring you were supposed to sell to finance your new big demo tape.”

“But, honey, you don’t understand. She gave me an ultimatum. I was afraid she was going to beat me up again. She demanded that I give her a ring! I panicked!”

Bridget’s eyebrows disappeared under her bangs again. “You’re saying you’re a victim here.”

“Yes, yes! Thank God you understand,” Kevin babbled. “She’s weak. Hanna’s weak. Not like you, Birdie. She might have won a few fights, but she doesn’t have that champion spirit like you do. She wasn’t brave enough to give up everything for the man she claims she loves. You were brave enough to walk away from it all, Bridget. I want that back. I need that back. You can even continue to fight if you want to.”

The door hit the wall behind it with a crash, and Hanna Kowalczyk stood in the doorway, glowering.

“Holy crap, you are a fuckin’ idiot, aren’t you?” Nolan chortled. “Goddamn, man.”

Bridget looked at Nolan, her jaw dropped, and Nolan’s laugh died in his throat. Oh, shit. Good move, Nolan. Who’s the idiot in this room?

She shook her head. “This guy? This fucking guy?” She pointed at Kevin. “How the fuck was I so stupid for all those years? Oh my God.” Then she turned to Hanna. “I’m sorry, Hanna. You don’t deserve this piece of shit.”

Hanna stared at Kevin, blinking slowly once, twice. Then she walked over to Bridget and pressed something into her hand. “A thank-you gift from me to you.” She turned to Kevin. “I want your shit out of my apartment by Sunday.”

“But . . . but . . . that’s tomorrow.”

“Shoulda thought about that before, huh?” And she walked out the door.

“Looks like you need to get back to Boston, huh?” Bridget inhaled through her nose and then shook her head. “Good-bye, Kevin.”

She turned to Nolan, her gaze softening. “Hey.”

“Uh, hey.” He smiled. “Um, congratulations. You looked really good. Oh, these are for you. I’m sorry if they’re kind of wilted.” Nolan handed her the roses, and she let out a little surprised “Oh!” before lowering her head to sniff the fragrant blooms.

“Oh, thank you.”

She stood on her tiptoes, and Nolan bent down to press his lips to hers. “You ready to get out of here.”

“Yeah, am I ever.”

“Then we will. This your bag?” Bridget nodded, and Nolan grabbed the duffel’s handles. “Anything else you need?”

She shook her head and went to his side to loop her arm around him. Before they walked through the door, together, Nolan turned to Kevin, who was standing frozen in place, seemingly in shock.

“You’re wrong, you know. Bridget doesn’t belong to you. She doesn’t belong to anyone. She sure as hell doesn’t belong to me. I can only hope to be the kind of man she wants, and strive to be a man who deserves her affection and love.”