Fighting Love (Love to the Extreme, #2)

She tried shaking away her sour thoughts, but they kept returning, louder and more panicked than ever.

In the theater, they found a place to sit directly in front of the huge pool and stage. He put his arm around the back of her chair, his fingers playing with her hair. She instinctively leaned into his side, wanting desperately to banish her depressing worries. The chairs didn’t have arms, so his body pressed into her from shoulder to knee. She felt the kiss he placed on top of her head, and she chewed on her bottom lip.

Was she overreacting? He was completely attentive to her now. Was she being one of those girlfriends who must have her boyfriend’s attention at all times or she’d have a freak-out? She did not want to be one of those women.

It was one incident, she reminded herself, and their relationship was new. She needed to cut him some slack and remember everything else he’d done for her.

Because she couldn’t think about being cut out of one of the most important parts of his life. Or having to decide whether to live with the hurt or having to leave him for good.





Chapter 15

As Julie fastened her robe around her waist, she stared at the rumpled bed. When Tommy had carried her back to her room last night after his training, he’d spent the next few hours devoted to her body, touching and kissing. The intimacy hadn’t diminished as they’d slept, either. Their naked bodies had stayed in contact, either with her curled up under his arm, against his side, or with him spooned behind her, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her waist and making her feel as if she was his whole world.

Just because he had a fight in a few days didn’t mean he’d forget all that as soon as he stepped into the cage.

The last three weeks had flown by. Tommy had trained like a madman, and she’d kept herself busy at the clinic. All their spare time was spent together, either in bed, curled together on the couch, or actually attempting to have a date. Publicity for the fight was running at full tilt, so a fan or two always interrupted them. But since she was sitting there with him, she didn’t feel as excluded as before, when she’d stood on the outside looking in.

So she’d relaxed some on that front. Thank God. The last thing she wanted was for her issue to be the reason she and Tommy couldn’t be together.

She walked into the living room. A shirtless Tommy had his elbows propped on the kitchen counter as he ate a bagel with peanut butter and read the sports section of the newspaper.

As she watched the muscles of his back flex every time he brought the bagel to his mouth, she wanted to say screw work, and take him back to bed. She reached out to run her hand up his spine, but paused when she noticed he was reading an article with the headline, A HAS-BEEN’S

RETURN TO THE CAGE.

Julie cringed. Oh, that wasn’t good. What effect would that have on him? Would it mess with his head?

Inhaling, she stepped beside him and asked. “What’s the verdict?”

Without a word, he handed her the paper. She scanned the article and winced. The reporter was not a fan of Tommy’s, pretty much calling the president of the Cage Match Championship desperate for ratings if he allowed a screw-up like Tommy back in the cage when there were plenty of fighters who would give anything to be there. The reporter went on to insinuate that those who purchased the event to watch at home on TV were stupid because it was sure to be another letdown, like the previous fight.

“He didn’t hold anything back, did he?”

Tommy shrugged. “I have a lot to prove. All this reporter had to go on was my last fight, and even I admit I looked like shit. He has every right to doubt me. I’ll get my satisfaction when I wipe that doubt out of his mind and he’s forced to admit he was wrong.”

At his confidence, she smiled in relief. When Tommy leaned over, kissed her, and whispered, “Good morning,” she could’ve easily melted to the floor.

As he straightened and gathered her into his arms, she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted up on her tiptoes, kissing his lips. His body relaxed against hers, and he held her tighter. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I wish we could spend more time together.”

At the sincerity in his voice, her heart squeezed. “I do, too, but you’re four days away from the fight. I do know what that means, you know.”

He kissed her gently. “My time will be limited, but I get to come home to you every night.”

Coming home to me. God, she loved the sound of that.

“I’ll be training most of the day,” he continued. “Then tomorrow the chaos starts for the rest of the week. What do you say about a lunch date? Around one, so we miss the lunch crowd? We haven’t visited our bench in a long time. I hear it calling our names.”

Flutters erupted in her belly. They’d eaten lunch together on that bench for so many years, but this was the first time he had ever referred to it as “theirs.”

She loved the sound of them having someplace that was theirs alone.

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