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The Devil's Match (The Devil's Own Book 5) by Amo Jones (11)

Chapter 12

I should have gone to fucking New York. To hell with my family. But even as those thoughts passed through my mind, I instantly felt sick to my stomach. I love my brothers with something fierce, so there’s no way in hell I was letting them have all the fun. As a kid, Raze and Miles would always try to kick me out of the fun things. “You need more training, Ella!” The fuck I did. I was born for this, just like Raze. It ran in our blood, and I was ready to sprint. I lay back onto the bed in the room Ikea had put me into. There were two small self-contained apartments, one being the one I was in. I’m not sure who was in the one opposite me, but I do know that it’s occupied, thanks to Ikea pointing it out. “Ella, your neighbor is one of my most loved and prized soldiers, please play nice, and try not to kill each other,” she had said. I shrugged and replied that I couldn’t give her any promises if he was anything like her current right-hand man soldier, while pointedly looking at Frost. He laughed, she didn’t.

The apartment was decent. It was a studio style layout with a queen bed on slats against a brick wall, a couple of chest of drawers, a TV, and a cow skin mat at the foot of the bed. There was a large floor to ceiling window that filled the space to the side of the bed, and then just as you walked into the apartment, to the right was a small kitchen, all with stainless steel appliances and on the opposite side was the bathroom. Thankfully, with a bathtub. After every takedown, I have a ritual I follow and have followed. I’m not sure why, I’m not going to heaven, but it’s just something I started since my first kill

Back then

“I can do it, Raze… geeez, you’re so irritating.” I snatched the holster off my annoyingly overbearing brother. I should be thankful, at least he seems a little off balance. It shows my doing this has him a little twitchy.

“Don’t be a fucking smart ass, Ella. This is real shit. This isn’t training. I don’t think you’re ready…” he whispered off.

“Nonsense…” Miles walked into my bedroom, balancing a knife between his fingers. “She’s more than ready, Raze. Let her fly.”

“She owns too much purple to be killing people.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the knife out of Miles’ hands and walked toward the door. Throwing my button up coat on and fluffing up my hair, I snapped, “I’m ready.”

Walking down the long dark alleyway, I came to a red door, and just before I was about to knock, I pushed the button on my earpiece. “Listen, I’m going to need music—I think. I mean, I always trained with music, I haven’t done this without it.”

“Ella…” Raze warned, his voice low. “You cannot have music on during a kill. You need to be focused.”

“I get that, I do, but I’m more focused with music on because I have to use my other senses to help me. Raze… I need music. Something heavy, something metal. Yes, I need heavy metal.”

“You’re not ready,” Raze repeated in the same tone he used earlier.

“Get out…” Miles interrupted, then his voice came through my ear. “All right, Devil face. Who do you want.”

I grinned. “There’s a reason why you’re my favorite brother. Ok, so once you hear when shit hits the fan, start playing something. I don’t know… Korn. ‘Got the Life.’”

“Korn? Oh hell… all right then.” I dropped my hands, cranking my neck and pulling out my compact mirror. Ok, so I went a little over the top on the makeup and big hair, and let’s not get started on the attire underneath this coat, but it has to work, and will work, because my target tonight is a human trafficker poacher. Now, don’t think I’m being a hero here. My family are far more wicked than anything else in this living world, but the reason he’s my target is that he has been basically, taking our business. Yes, that’s right, he’s sucking our business dry and leaving behind dirty marks. He’s messy with what he does and it’s starting to draw far too much attention. Attention that may eventually lead to The Army—my family.

I knocked on the door and then waited. A peephole slid open loudly, then an eye peered through and looked me up and down.

“You gonna let me in, or do I need to say that magic word?”

“What is it?” the voice asked me.

I rolled my eyes. “There is none.”

A heavy lock slid open and then next the door. A big man with hair in almost every part of his face, stood there, glaring down at me. “You got bank?”

I stared at him with a flat, bored expression. “Does it look like I got bank?” I gestured at my clothes.

He chewed on his gum a few times, let his eyes roam over me again, before finally stepping aside. I strode into the corridor, adrenaline pulsing through my veins so fast my heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest, then I followed him down the dark hallway, where the only lighting was from the light bulbs flicking on and off above us. We reached the end and he pushed the door open, gesturing for me to go inside. Deep laughter danced amongst the smell of rich, thick Cuban cigars, an overload of cologne and aftershave, and the bitter, but zesty hit of whiskey. It was the perfect match to my recipe.

“Thanks.” I side-stepped around him, ignoring how the room fell quiet. In the middle, was a medium-sized poker table with around five men, all wearing suits, all sitting in dark leather seats. Jacob Atkins, some hotshot CEO-type dude that makes more money in a week than most do in a year was one of them, followed by David Macintyre, his buddy, whose business was dabbling in real estate, and beside him was another hotshot. I knew every single guy that was sitting here, their background, how many kids they had, and the name of their first family pet. But they’re not who I’m here for, although, I’m rather sure that I would probably need to kill at least a couple of them while I’m here. You know, collateral damage.

“Hi, boys.” I walked into the room with confidence, unbuttoning my long jacket.

I removed it, and one of the men shot up from his chair, taking it from me. “Here, let me get that for you.”

I peered straight at him. Ah, and here we have it. Ella McKenna’s target numero uno. Shame. He’s a little good looking, you know, if you’re a daddy’s girl. Can’t say I’m into that type at all, he’s a little too suit and tie. I like my men a more on the unhinged side. If I had a taste in men, that was.

“Thank you.” I took a seat beside him, skimming down my black dress. It was strapless, short, and tight enough that you could almost see the junk in my trunk. I matched it with some burgundy heels, burgundy smudged lips, dark smoky eyes, and voila! You have yourself a girl who is dressed to kill. Literally.

“You buying in, sweet stuff? You sure you wanna play with the big boys?”

Trevor McAlister.

Forty-eight-years old.

CEO of twelve different car dealerships around the globe.

—Side bitch to Snake, and likes to do his dirty work by poaching women off the side of the street. Not just women though, oh no, girls young enough to be his granddaughters. That’s where we drew the line, at least. The Army didn’t take little girls under the age of puberty. You know, morals and all that, and also, it was because we bred them. See, intelligence. I was being sarcastic. The Army were assholes, but my brother and Miles were a part of it, and me, since I am, technically, Army blood. Snake’s boys, though, have been running around rampaging for the same time as The Army—so I’d heard. He was the same age as my father, and apparently, they used to be tight. Snake was not our competition, but we were constantly having to clean up his dirty work, not for his benefit, but because if he gained any more attention, it wouldn’t be long before we attained that same attention.

I smirked, pulled out five large and dropped it onto the table. Leaning over, I took the cigar from between his fingers, all while keeping my eyes on his and brought it to my lips, wrapping them around the tip seductively. I sucked on it a little, then puffed out the smooth smoke. “You scared to lose to a little girl?”

I could see him readjusting himself from under the table while the rest of the guys went quiet. “How little?”

I narrowed my eyes and licked my lips. “Young enough to not know any better.”

He turned to the men and nodded his head. “Let her in.”

The dealer dealt our cards and I had to fight the smile that was forcing itself onto my lips. For a first timer, I wasn’t doing too bad. Raze, suck on that.

“You good at this game, sugar?” Trevor asked, driving another cigar into his mouth.

“Ehh, I’m about to find out.”

“You do know that beginner’s luck is all shit, right?” Another man said opposite me, and I notice it was Trevor.

“Guess we’re about to find out.”

Except we weren’t, because I wasn’t here to play fucking games, and I wasn’t about to spend valuable time with these motherfuckers.

“I mean…” I shrugged. “Or not.” I quickly stood, pulled out my gun from my holster, and aimed right at Trevor, firing a bullet right between his shocked eyes. Blood sprayed out everywhere behind his head, and then I turned to the rest of the men. “You wanna play boys, or no?”

A sound of growls went around the table, and then each of them went to stand from their chairs. I cracked my neck. “Guess we’re playing than.”

Korn, “Got the Life” started playing through my ears, just as one man opposite me, pulled his gun from his pants, aimed, and shot right at me. I dodged, cartwheel-flipped over the table, and elbowed him right in the face before roundhouse kicking him in the guts. Swinging my other hand up, I shot another right between the eyes who was about to reach for his gun and then to the left, I saw a shadow coming at me in full force at the same time as I felt the guy I just kicked move his feet from around my ankle. I punched the guy coming at me square in the nose until I felt his naval bone crush beneath my knuckles, before grabbing him by his throat, twisting him in front of me so I could use him as a shield, swung my aim to the man on the floor, and shot him right in the forehead. The guy whose throat I had in the grip of my hand snatched my gun, pulled back, and aimed it right at me. I closed my eyes, embracing the electric sound of the guitar that was strumming in my ears, and ducked. Just as he pulled the trigger, I yanked the knife I took from Miles out of the holster around my ankle, stood, and quickly launched it straight into his groin. All his movements stopped as if in slow motion, before falling to the ground, but with me wanting to be precise, and hungry for more blood, I sunk the blade in deeper, and then swiped the blood off of my forehead—but only smudged it more. I yanked the knife skyward, cutting through his pelvic area and up, slicing the flesh of his stomach open and watching as his guts poured out from under his shirt.

Smiling, I glanced around the mass of bloody ruins at my feet. “Oh wow. That was fun.”

“Ella…” Raze warned in my ear, cutting out the music.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” I walked to Trevor’s body, grabbed onto his cheek and squeezed until his mouth popped open. Gripping my knife, I brought the handle down and yanked one of his teeth out, putting it into my pocket to give to Raze (in order to gain my number). Though, I need to ask if we should count collateral damage into our numbers.

“Oh! Hang on…” I back peddled toward the table, lifted my cards, and then read to the dealer’s cards. “I have a straight!”

“Ella, get your ass outta there,” Raze repeated.

Collecting all the money from the table, I wiped my knife off with a few hundreds and then flicked them backward while walking out. “Have a tip, boys.” I pushed through the corridor doors.

“What the fu—” I sliced the big bodyguard clean across the throat before he could start yapping, and then left him choking on his own blood. I had the cheesiest smirk on my face as I lit another cigar (compliments of Trevor). The van door slid open as I hit the cool outside air, and Raze stood there with a scowl, whereas Miles had a cheesy grin on his face. “Crazy never looked so fucking good.”

PRESENT

From then on, I started a ritual where I’d take a bath after every hunt. I don’t know why, but sinking myself into the clean water, in my head releases the kill from my soul. My flesh is clean, with the remnants of evil displayed in the form of dirty water. Voila. Yeah, I know that’s not how it really works, but it keeps the demons at bay when I’m not chasing them to come and play with me.

Standing from my bed, I walk into the small kitchen and grab my phone that’s charging. I feel terrible that I’m lying to my brothers, but I know for a fact that they’ve done much worse to me. Sliding my phone unlocked, I open a new message from Millie.

You driving safe?

Shaking my head from her overbearingness, I open the fridge, happy to see a bottle of vino in there. I hit reply.

Stop texting me. I’ll text you when I get there x

Putting my phone down, I pour my glass. My phone pulsates continuously on the countertop, and I sigh, sucking in some of my fresh happy juice. Without looking, I hit answer.

“Millie, you need to stop. I will text you when I get there.”

“Very convincing.”

I almost choke on my wine. “Frost?”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Ella?”

“Long story, that I don’t have to share with you, by the way.”

“Except the fuck you do need to!”

“Why do you care.” I put my glass on the counter.

“I don’t fucking care, I just want to know why you’re here and why you’re not on your way to New York.”

“Because Raze and Miles and Millie? They’re my family, Frost. They were idiots if they thought I’d leave them to this war alone.”

He pauses.

I carry on. “And anyway, shouldn’t you be licking the flesh off of your new woman?”

“She’s not my fucking woman.”

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I need to go, you’re wasting my wine time before I start officially working tomorrow.” I hang up before he can reply. I don’t need him as a distraction, and I guess he could do without me as a distraction, but I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t hard when we’re both in the same room together. It’s as though the rest of the world ceases to exist and it’s just us. This is going to be a problem, and I’m fully aware how delusional I sound, and I’m also aware that this is one dimensional on my part, but I can’t help the way I feel about him. I care, to a degree, and I don’t care that I care, but, I care. Which makes no fucking sense at all. Kind of like my newfound yet obvious feelings for him.

“Agh,” I make a distressed sound of annoyance, pound back the rest of my vino, and then head into the sitting room, slash, bedroom. Pulling out an oversized cardigan, I throw it over my head, remove my cut-off shorts so I’m just in my panties and put on some thick socks. Letting my hair down from its ponytail, I quickly go into the bathroom to scrub off my makeup and then walk back into the sitting room, slash, bedroom. I’m going to call it SB for short. Flopping onto the bed, I let out a long exhale and close my eyes. Just as I feel myself about to sink into a deep slumber, the walls start vibrating to “Cemetery Gates” by Pantera which is obviously playing loudly from next door. I open my eyes and get up from the bed. Admittedly, I hadn’t heard this song in a long time. A very… long time. Swinging my front door open, I lean on the doorframe and wait for the song to kick in after the slow intro. Closing my eyes, a small smile shimmies onto my lips. Memories flood my brain like a movie, and I’m about to go back inside my room, to hell with asking whoever it was to turn it down, he obviously has great taste in music, when his door opens, and —“Oh my God!” I grip onto the doorframe to balance myself. “Chase!”

He stills, and I seize this moment to take a good look at him, how much he’s changed. Well, not really changed, just grown. Big. Very big. And, damn. He has no shirt on, loose grey sweatpants and grappling gloves covering his hands. He swipes the sweat of his still tanned forehead and slowly strides toward me.

“Shit. Ella, hey.”

“What. The. Fuck.” I’m at a loss for words because I haven’t seen this man since I was in high school, and then he disappeared. Just, vanished.

“All right, there’s going to be a lot of questions and I get that. Can we do this in my room, though?”

I cast a look over his shoulder and then glare back at him. “Why there?”

“Well, I can explain when you get in there. Go.” He steps aside and gestures for me to enter, so I shut my own door before walking inside. His apartment is exactly like mine, only more of a man cave, and it has definitely been modified here and there. He also has another room behind his bedroom that I don’t have, but other than that, everything else is the same. I go to the kitchen bar stool and take a seat.

“I actually have no idea what to say to you right now.”

He opens the fridge and takes out a bottled water, offering me one, but I shake my head. He unscrews the cap and walks around the island, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Chase!” I scowl at him. “What the fuck?”

He drops the bottle on the counter, and I have to fight the urge to gaze at his abs. Fuck. He grew up mighty fine. He always was beautiful at school, and boyish and ballsy. He was the star quarterback with pretty eyes and dimples. Now, I’m not so sure I’d use the word beautiful to explain him. Justhot.

“The reason I told you to come in here was because Ikea wires all the rooms. Yours too, no doubt.”

“Bitch…” I whisper under my breath, all though it makes sense that she would do something like that. I sneer back at Chase. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

He stares at me, searching my eyes as if sizing up whether he’s going to be honest with me or not. “She’s my mother.”

“Who?” I’m confused for a beat, and then realization sinks in. My face falls. “Oh. Fuck.”

He rounds the counter, pulls the stool out beside me and takes a seat. I study him, his face inches away from mine, then I swallow nervously. Shit. Chase fucking Harvey. “But…this makes no sense.”

His thumb comes to my lip and my eyes close. Double fucking shit. “I

My eyes shoot open and I push off the chair, standing in shock. He exhales, obviously realizing I had done the math in my head. “—I was your fucking hunt!?” I hiss, stepping closer to him.

“Ella, no. Fuck.” He gets to his feet, pulls at his hair and then pins his focus straight on me. “I mean, at first, yes. But then we happened. You fucking happened, and I got feelings and you got feelings, and I fucking fell in love with you. My mom pulled me from it instantly and shipped me straight to private school. Listen

“I don’t want to fucking listen.” I shook my head, anger simmering below the surface. Can I be angry at him? Yes. I’m going with yes. “I want to fucking kill you! I had real feelings for you, Chase!”

I sat back on the stool, dropping my head into my hands. “My life is so fucked up.”

“Hey.” His hand comes to my knee, and I have to fight the urge to pull away from him. “You weren’t the fucking only one.”

I scowled at his hand and then brought my eyes to his. In the midst of searching his warm chocolate brown eyes, my scowl disintegrated. They were always my favorite, but, I don’t have a sweet tooth anymore. I prefer steak now. “You were the only thing I had that wasn’t a part of this life, Chase. It’s what kept me together at times. To know that someone wasn’t with me because of my affiliations or wasn’t not with me because of my affiliations. Now that’s all bullshit.” I shake my head. There’s a nudge of sadness wiggling in my chest. It feels like I’ve suffered a small loss. “Do you have wine.”

He chuckles although it comes out sort of sad, then stands and heads for the fridge. “You drink?”

“Since recently, yes.” I bypass thoughts of Frost, who is probably sleeping with Ikea right now. Nope, Ella, no you’re not going there.

He slides a glass of red toward me, and I take it, bringing the rim to my mouth just as he returns back to his seat. “My feelings for you were way too real, Ella. Not even Ikea can remove those feelings.” I noted he called her Ikea and not mom. Which speaking of….

“Mmm.” I wipe the residue of wine from my lips, feeling my muscles slowly loosen. “How the hell is she your mom? She doesn’t look that old, and besides that, she used to sleep with my brother. I wonder if he knows about you.”

He leans back, and I honest to God am getting annoyed with how much I have to fight with checking him out, but I know if I ask him to put his top on, that would pretty much declare how severely his naked chest is distracting me. He has the same features, only matured, which is not helping either. His jaw was sharp when we were younger, but now it’s prominent. Not as nice as Frost’s, but a close second. His high cheekbones and long stupid eyelashes seem more intense now too. But, amongst all that, he lacks the danger. He’s like… the guy version of me. Interesting.

“She’s forty-one. Just looks good for her age.”

“Eh,” I shrug. “I could disagree but whatever.”

He laughs again and gets to his feet. “Wanna spar?” I peer up at him. Damn. It’s been a long time since we’ve sparred together, but I’m not really in the mood right now with all the information swimming in my head. It’s fucking Chase. My fucking Chase.

“Can I ask you a question?” I reply, studying my wine glass. “Do you love her?” I know it’s a shit question to ask because that is his mom, but I come from a world where mommies and daddies aren’t exactly who they should be.

There’s a long pause, and then he growls out. “Ella, look at me.”

I do. I bring my eyes up to his and heat flushes to my cheeks. I know that look, he’s about to be real with me right now. “I know why you’re here, I know why Frost is here. I know everything.” Shit. Remain poker-faced, Ella. “And I want in.”

My eyes snap to his. “What?” I can’t hide the disbelief from my tone. “But…”

“Ikea has done a lot worse than you know, El. One day, I’ll tell you about it, but there’s one thing I need you to know before you go back to your room.” He takes a breath. “She is in bed with Snake. They have been working together for as long as I can remember, and I don’t know what is going on with them or what they’re planning, but I know it has to do with The Army.”

“No way.” I shake my head, shooting back the last of my wine. “She’s in bed with Snake?!”

He nods. “Can’t make this shit up. Not in actual bed, because… Well, actually, I wouldn’t put it past her, but you get what I’m saying.”

“Shit.” I stand from my chair. “Do we know what they’re planning?”

He shakes his head, taking my glass to the sink. “No. She’s been keeping it in lockdown for a while, but I’m sure over time we will find out.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Hopefully within six months.”

“Hey.” He comes up to me, hooks his finger under my chin and searches my eyes. “She has three of her best assets working against her. She has no chance.”

I allow his gaze to sink into me and I cherish it. Man, once upon a time, not that long ago, I loved this man. I mean, flat-out loved. I know some people would say it was puppy love or whatever because we were so young, but no. I loved him. I need to lay it out flat for him though, just in case he might think we can pick up where we left off, that I’m not looking for that right now.

“Chase,” I whisper, already regretting my words and I hadn’t even spoken them. I take his hand off me and drop it between us, giving it a tight squeeze before standing.

“I get it.” He beats me to it. “I ran. I get that. It’s been years—I get that too. But fuck, Ella. It’s always been you.”

I suck in a breath. After all this banter and pull with Frost, it’s refreshing to hear something so straightforward. “I can’t really do this with you right now, Chase. I’m sorry. I need to stay focused and, well, I sort of, well…”

“Have a thing for the biker upstairs fucking my mom?”

That was a punch in the gut. “Ouch, Chase.”

“Sorry,” he breathes out, and I can hear the sincerity in his tone. “Just… give me a chance. Not right now, after this operation is done, see how you feel? I have… there’s so much I need to tell you and what you don’t know.”

I give him a tight smile. “No promises.” I head toward the door, and just as I grab the handle, he calls out, “So why were you standing at the threshold of your entrance anyway, Lala.” And there it is. He used his nickname for me that I haven’t heard in years. Raze hated it and Miles despised it, actually, they both just pretty much hated Chase altogether.

I chuckle lightly. “Cemetery.” Then I walk out, shutting his door. I stand there for a couple of seconds, leaning my head on the door. Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck was that. Chase, he was amazing when we were young, and I know he would take care of me. Give me everything I want. The white fucking picket fence, maybe a couple kids. I wouldn’t have to worry about him suffocating me in my sleep—unlike someone else. Jesus. So why the fu—“Found Ikea’s son?” Frost growls out from my right.

I laugh sarcastically, not wanting to look in his direction. “You have got to be shitting me.” Finally, I gaze toward the dark shadow to find him sitting on the fire escape, leaning his elbows on his knees. “How much shit do you think can happen to you in one day before you actually lose your mind?” I walk toward Frost, but he doesn’t answer. He remains still, his face hidden behind his hoodie.

I take a seat beside him, trying to ignore the tension that is pulling between both of us.

“Ella…” Frost mutters, his tone a little lopsided. “Did you meet Ikea’s son?”

“Yeah, about that, I need to talk to you

“—Stay. The. Fuck. Away from him.” He still doesn’t look at me, his face remains frozen and turned toward the wall in front of us. His hoodie being thrown over his head molds shadows over his face. His jaw is more prominent than ever in this lighting, and because I’m in a daze, a pervy, hypnotized daze, I remain silent. He must take that as me being rebellious, because the next thing I know, he snaps at me. “Ella!” He finally whips his head toward me, and instead of checking out his beautiful face and head tattoos, I’m now eye to eye with, what feels like, a fucking demon. He has to have the most expressive eyes I have ever seen.

“What?” I ask because I’m confused at the aggressiveness.

His hand flies up to my neck and I still. I don’t want to kill him, but I will try if he tests me. He squeezes, his eyes narrowing. He licks his bottom lip, and then brings his eyes back to mine. “Don’t fucking talk to him. Don’t fucking look at him. Don’t even breathe the same fucking air as him, Ella, wanna know what will happen if you do?”

“Frost!” I tap at his hand. “Let go, you’re being a fucking idiot.”

His head tilts as he runs his nose over my cheek. “Mmm, see I don’t think I’m being an idiot at all,” he growls so low it has my lady bits fucking yearning for him. My panties are wet, and I am not ashamed to admit it. It feels as though electricity passes between us, but I tap at his hand again. “What the fuck is your problem.”

He searches between both of my eyes. The eye contact alone could create a six-hour porn. “You are not to see him.”

“Frost, I know him!”

He pulls away from my throat. “What! Get in your room now so we can talk.”

Yeah, no.”

“The fuck did you just say?” His head does that head tilt thing again.

“No, because she has my room fucking wired!” I hiss, standing.

“Fuck!” He gets to his feet, towering over me and making me feel like a tiny little ant.

I panic, my eyes start flying around the room.

He cuts in, obviously seeing my sudden panic. “She doesn’t monitor the foyer, Ella.”

He steps closer to me, his chest pressing against mine and I need to compress the urge to moan. Feeling him against me always feels right. “You go in that room again, baby? And I’ll kill you myself.” Then he turns and leaves, walking up the fucking emergency stairs. Up to fucking her. I flip him the bird even though he can’t see me. How the fuck dare he? I’ll do what I fucking like. I don’t know what he’s used to, or what game he’s playing, but he is sleeping with another woman! Like hell will I allow him to dictate what I do.

Ragggeee.

I want to kill something. Or someone. Him. I want to kill him. I begin to pace up and down the foyer, replaying his words in my head and thinking of better ways I could have responded to him.

“Oh yeah?” I start whispering to myself, getting worked up all over again. “Well, how ‘bout you shut the fuck up. Since you’re getting your dick warm in old fucking pussy.” She’s not that old but she’s older than me so I’m running with it, and besides, I hate her.

“Lala?” Chase calls out from his door, freshly showered but again, with no shirt on, and now in relaxed basketball shorts hanging from his hips.

“Sorry,” I mutter, actually fighting the blush that wants to spread across my cheeks like a stupid school girl. “I’m just having… a discussion…”

Chase’s hand comes to his mouth and his eyes curve.

“Are you laughing at me? Because I will have you know…”

He burst out laughing and suddenly, I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face.

“Come spar, Lala. Be like old times, I’ll even let you kick my ass.”

I walk toward him, an eyebrow quirked. “Dude, I always kicked your ass.”

He always gave it to me, but whatever.

I follow him back into his room. “Shit, hang on. I need to change.” I sprint out of his apartment, throw my clothes off and jump up and down to get mine on, then ran back to his.

He whistles when I walk in. “Well, damn…”

I peek down at what I’m wearing, then roll my eyes. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

There’s a long pause so I stare up at him, only to find him watching me closely. “Yeah, but every time I see you is like the first time.”

“Okay,” I declare, running my hand over my bare belly. Yeah, so I’m wearing a sports bra and yoga pants. It’s nothing more than I wear to the gym. “Well, thank you…” I whisper honestly because I don’t know what else to say.

“Come on.” He gestures toward the back room, grabbing the remote from the kitchen counter. “Spar and music.”

I sigh. “Bliss, just like old times.”

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