QUINN

Shadow is slammed. Like, wall-to-wall slammed.

It doesn't necessarily surprise me since it's fight night. What does surprise me is that it's so busy when Logan isn't fighting. Tonight, the main attraction is Wyatt Jackson – the legend of secret keeping – and Ollie Reed. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about it.

There's a food chain when it comes to the men who dance with their fists. Logan Campbell has always been the golden boy in the ring but, when Cash was still fighting, he was a close second. And Ollie was always trailing right behind them, trampling everything just to climb to the top.

He fights dirty when he comes to Shadow because the rules aren't exactly strict. My anxiety about this fight all comes down to one simple thing. I don't want Wyatt anywhere near that boy.

My eagle eyes haven't been able to spot Cash anywhere in the crowd. Also not a surprise, seeing as how I can't look past any of the behemoths circling the club tonight.

I debate crawling up on the bar to get a better view, but I have a feeling Gio won't appreciate that very much. I still owe him for calling him a peasant, so my feet unwillingly stay where they're supposed to be.

I wriggle up onto my stool, sipping the delicious cocktail that he concocted for me. I want to exchange the latest gossip with him, but he's too busy. I'll have to take a raincheck on that. Which leaves me with nobody to talk to. I twirl around in my chair a few times to keep myself entertained.

"Her drink is on me." I hear someone shout to Gio, but I don't pay them any mind as I continue trying to inspect the room for my – wait for it – boyfriend!

Despite not wanting to get heavily invested in anyone, I've always been a sucker for relationships. They make me feel special and wanted and respected...until they don't. But I love it. It's even better when the guy in question is the one I've been hiding behind for years.

It's like he's officially my protector rather than me just pretending he is. Should I be paying him for his services? I mean...like a prostitute, but for safety rather than sex. My protection whore. Wait, does that make me a pimp?

I should have majored in business management or finances. Or both. I am completely unequipped to be an adequate pimp. Ugh, this is all so complicated.

I spin back to face the bar, attempting to clear my head from all this prostitute nonsense, when I see big, dumb Ollie Reed invading my space, smirking at me.

"Oh." I spit out, disappointed in his presence. "Did you just buy my drink?"

I really want another sip, but I feel like the beverage is contaminated with his gross false chivalry now. It'll probably taste like bullshit rather than pineapple juice. I push it away, very slowly, just to make sure he gets the picture.

"Of course I did." He replies in delight.

"If you're trying to butter me up, you're out of luck. I'm on team Wyatt." I say grimly, shrugging.

"I don't care who you cheer for, babe, long as you're in my bed at the end of night."

If I was capable, I'd force myself to vomit on his face. Cash's gagging abilities would come in handy right now. Instead, I attractively let a puddle of spit fall out of my mouth, onto the bar, while I make throw up noises.

His lips pull back in disgust. Oh, was that not sexy, Ollie? I'm so sorry.

"Ollie, are you trying to lure me into your disappointing penis convention? I could use a good laugh."

"If you show up, I can promise there won't be any disappointment." He jabs back.

Damn. I thought the spit and the penis remark would get him for sure. But he never was one to let insults interfere with his missions. Time to switch it up.

"Really?" I ask, widening my eyes.

His hand lifts to my face and he knicks my jaw with his knuckle.

"Really. I want you to come home with me tonight."

I huff out a breath and bashfully twirl a strand of hair around my finger. I've seen Skylar doing this with guys at the bar before, so I know it's a good move in the art of deception.

"Okay. Let me just check with Cash first. I have to make sure he's okay with sharing."

He raises an eyebrow. "Cash?"

"Cassius. I think you know him. He's only beat your ass like...twenty-two times already, or something like that. I haven't kept track." I sound unaffected and decide to throw in a yawn for extra dramatics.

Twenty-six. Twenty-six times, Cash has destroyed Ollie in that ring. I never missed it.

That seems to have hit him exactly where I wanted – in his big, fat ego.

"Get fucked." I hear the boyishly charming voice I love so much, swooping in to rescue me.

Ollie's shoulders tense when he sees Wyatt lay his arm over my shoulder and kiss my cheek.

"Hi Wyatt." I beam up at him, waiting for the big reveal of that tiny little gap between his two front teeth. And he does not disappoint.

He smiles down at me, and I'm instantly reminded of how much I adore this guy. He's all hard ridges and bloody knuckles until he smiles. That gap brings youth and innocence to his face, transporting me back to the night where I poured my heart and soul out to him.

"Shouldn't be drinking before the fight. I'd hate for you to blame my win on the alcohol." Wyatt jeers, bowing his head to the beer in Ollie's hand.

He doesn't take the bait, choosing to walk away from us instead. Wyatt huffs and rolls his eyes, disappointed there won't be a fight before the fight.

"Fucking asshole." He grumbles, sitting down next to me. "So, you and Cass, huh?"

I blush at the sound of it. Jeez, this is bad. How does a name make my face hot?

"Yeah." I smile, shying away before looking back up.

"Good." He gives a curt nod. "Maybe you guys can talk some damn sense into each other."

I fold my arms, glaring at him.

"Excuse me, but I need no sense talking. I am perfectly sensical." I huff, pouting my lip.

I think Wyatt's eyebrows are trying to fly off his face. Don't go, eyebrows. He'd look weird without you guys.

"Quinn, you're not that out of touch. You can pretend you don't know what I'm saying all you want, but deep down in that head of yours, you know what I'm talking about."

My shoulders slump at his words. He's not wrong, which means I'm not right. Which means I don't like it. So, naturally, I feel the need to argue against it.

"Actually –"

"You trapped me in your home, stripped down to nothing, tried to sexually assault me, and ended up an emotional wreck in my arms." He lists off all the reasons why I'm wrong, bobbing his head, and dots it with a big smile.

"What?" Cash's shocked – maybe puzzled – voice joins the conversation.

Perfect timing, universe! I really appreciate your annoyingly precise skills of putting me in situations that are impossible to explain myself out of.

He props an elbow on the bar and leans into it, staring at us while I nervously chew on the straw of the drink I tried to discard a few minutes ago. Thanks, Ollie.

"Just giving Quinn shit. She's beautiful and all, but I'd rather not see her naked again. Might have to cut off the friendship." he muses.

Oh. My. God. Were we transported into a volcano? Because my face is on fire.

Wyatt holds his knuckles up in front of my face and Cash reaches out to bump his fist.

"Your loss." Cash responds with a shrug.

My astounded gaze shoots to him, but he just gives me a little smirk laced with warmth and adoration. Okay, I know he can't be cool with just finding out I almost slept with Wyatt. He's playing it off right now but, once we're alone, the animosity will pour out.

"Better watch out for Ollie, though." Wyatt carries on. "He was trying to make his move a minute ago."

A miniscule tick makes an appearance in Cash's jaw and his smirk turns into one of discomfort. Just for a second. And then it's hidden behind nonchalance.

It's bothering me a little that they're talking like I'm not even here. Having a whole conversation right over my head. I wave a hand out in front of me, making sure I'm not invisible. Then I stick it up between their faces, wiggling my fingers. Neither one of them acknowledges it.

"Ya know, it's too bad she's not here right now." Wyatt frowns.

I fling around to face him, but he's just peering right over me, at Cash.

"Yeah. Thought I saw her over here earlier, but I guess not."

I reverse my body again and see Cash scanning the room, like he's searching for me.

"Uh...I'm right here. You were just looking at me." I whine.

"Did you just fart?" Wyatt asks Cash with a sharp brow.

"Nah." He responds, shaking his head. "Thought that was you."

"Hmm...weird. Coulda sworn I heard something."

The back of my hand finds Wyatt's chest as I slap at it. He jerks in response, biting back a smile. Which means he could feel me. Which means I am actually here!

"I knew it! You guys are dumb!" I cross my arms over my chest and take turns sneering at both of them.

"And you're perfectly sensical." Wyatt sings before trotting away.

Touché.

As soon as he departs, I feel Cash's fingers creep under my chin, tilting my head back until I'm staring up into his mesmerizing eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice is low and throaty, sending a chill up my spine.

"W-why are you asking?" I exhale, trying to get myself together.

"Not sure how you feel about the whole PDA thing." He glimpses out at the crowded room.

That's silly. Why wouldn't I want the whole world to see me kissing him? I plan to make the move and kiss him myself but, even on my tiptoes, I can't reach. So, I'm just standing here with my eyes closed and lips pursed, waiting.

When nothing happens, I crack one eye open and see him watching me with an expectant expression.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?!" He jerks the tiniest bit at the sound of my screech.

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were about to say something."

As soon as my lips form a straight line at his response, his hand snakes through my hair and he dips his head down. His mouth is so friggin warm. Like a little furnace.

I lose my sense of self, nipping on his lower lip. I feel the rumble in his chest as he steps in closer, making me bend back into my seat. His grip in my hair tightens and his lips press harder against mine. He pulls away abruptly and tucks the side of my face against his chest.

"Okay, you can't do that again while I'm working." He sounds amused as his fingers rub circles on my scalp.

I like a challenge. I angle my face and playfully bite at his nipple through his shirt. He grunts in surprise and scurries back, escaping me.

"Don't make me kick you out for harassment." He levels his eyes with mine, a playful spark behind them.

I've never seen him as easygoing as he is tonight. It makes my insides feel fuzzy. Mr. Tightass has spirit after all. Who would have guessed?

But then my stomach grows heavy when I remember earlier. This is just for show. As soon as we're alone, he's going to ream me out over Wyatt. Over Ollie.

Cash studies my face before approaching again, scooting a stool close to me and plopping down in it. He slings his arm around the back of my chair, and I try to avoid letting myself rest against him.

"What's wrong?" He murmurs, trying to keep the conversation private.

"I'm just kind of upset you never told me how Billy got that gum stuck on the ceiling. I'm still confused on how –"

"Let's break it down, okay?" He speaks gently, cutting me off. "Everything was fine. We were playing around, having a good time. You went inside that scary head of yours and flipped a switch. What were you thinking? Just blurt it out."

Blurt it out? Okay! I'm good at blurting!

"That you're going to yell at me over Wyatt later. And Ollie." I say matter-of-factly.

His fingertips brush over my shoulder blade and I focus on the sensation.

"And again, just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, alright? Why would I be mad at you over Wyatt?"

"Because he's seen me naked." I shrug, because duh.

"Alright. Fair. Makes sense why you think I'd be mad about that. But I'm not, Quinn. It's okay."

I shift my head to get a better look at him, but all I see is truth in his confident tone and sincerity behind his eyes.

"It doesn't, b-bother you?" I trip over my words, still scared of the direction this conversation is headed.

"I'm a little jealous, but only because I haven't gotten to see it for myself." He says with an easy-going smirk. "But should it bother me?" His eyes drill into mine and I'm suddenly speechless.

Should it? I don't know! I would think so. It bothered Hunter that I even spoke to other guys.

"I...I...good question. I'm not really – how am I supposed to – is this a trick or –"

"That's my fault, Quinn. Let me word it differently. Do I have anything to worry about with you and Wyatt?"

It's his fault? He's taking the blame for my inability to answer him? I'm so lost right now.

"N-no. We're just friends."

"Okay. Then I'm not worried."

That simple, huh? I duck my head, feeling very self-conscious of...well, everything. My terrible talking skills. My previous pass at Wyatt. My lack of understanding.

Cash puts his hand on the back of my head and strokes down my hair hard enough that it forces my chin to lift back up. He rotates it, so I'm once again looking at him.

"Don't hide yourself, Quinn." He demands with soft authority. "There's nothing for you to worry about, either. Keep that chin of yours up." He grins and leans to peck me on the lips.

"Now. On to problem two."

There was a second problem? I don't remember. I'm friggin drowning over here and don't know which way is up right now.

"Did Ollie make you uncomfortable?"

"It's f-fine, Cash." I stutter, still willing my brain to catch up.

"Not what I asked." His firm tone resonates within me.

I pause, I guess a second too long, because he starts shaking his head like he already knows the answer. And he does not seem to like said unspoken answer. Not. At. All.