Chapter Two

They watched the last three fights together and made their way collectively out back to their waiting vehicles when it was all over. Desmond and Peyton rode with Violet—she was their party escort. Both men chortled and chattered away about their fights, highlighting each punch and talking animatedly about their next fights. Violet listened to their excited prattle with a smile. She loved how happy and excited they seemed. Like two little boys obsessing and egging each other on.

Peyton’s next fight was the title shot; Violet had no doubts he could beat the reigning champion. Dezzy’s next fight was still up in the air. It might be any number of the top contenders and possibly even a rematch with Clayton Daniels.

They followed Manuel and Taylor’s silver luxury SUV back to their mansion, where many people had already arrived and started partying. There were cars parked helter-skelter in the drive and out on the street for a block in either direction. Loud club music with heavy bass beats blared from inside and people hooted and hollered drunken greetings to each other. The mansion was already packed to capacity and the party was in full swing.

“Looks like they got started without us,” Taylor laughed as she opened the door and held it for their entourage.

“Yeah, I gave Gorski the key,” Manuel said with a smile as they stepped inside.

Robert Gorski was a heavyweight fighter for Phenom. He was a behemoth with a sunny disposition and had quite the reputation as a hearty partier. He had also been Manuel’s best friend since middle school. He was the other co-founder of Team Phenom.

The music was suddenly much louder as Taylor opened the door, the rush of it a physical entity that assailed their ears. Desmond and Peyton both escorted Violet in, but once they’d cleared the entranceway, Desmond disappeared into the crowd. She and Peyton followed Manuel and Taylor into the enormous kitchen, where at least ten people Violet recognized from several of the other gyms had congregated.

Gorski’s hulking form hunched over the oven as he reached in and pulled out two fancy-looking take-and-bake pizzas. It was almost hilarious to watch. The giant had somehow managed to tie Taylor’s apron around his waist and the result was like putting a Barbie apron on a Cabbage Patch Kid. Manuel chatted with him as he cut up the pizza.

Taylor sat on the island countertop, swinging her legs like a child, and motioned Violet over to sit next to her. Peyton pulled Violet to him and kissed her on the cheek before departing with the promise to bring the women drinks from the wet bar downstairs.

“So, Vi—what’s this I hear about you and Ice?” Gorski asked, using Peyton’s fighter moniker as he deposited the second of the two pizzas on the countertop.

There it was: The very thing she’d been dreading. The damn league grapevine was on 6G, as fast as any rumor seemed to travel. She’d been on his arm for a couple of fights, received one kiss, and already people wanted wedding invitations. Yes, it seemed far-fetched—but they were in Vegas after all. Far-fetched was the norm.

Violet shrugged noncommittally, her emerald eyes sparkling. Taylor elbowed her in the side before piping up.

“She doesn’t wanna let the world know just yet, Big G,” Taylor saucily answered for her.

“Aw, why’s that?” Gorski asked as he handed both Violet and Taylor plates with a slice of pizza on them. “It’s about damn time! He’s been crazy about you for months. You’re perfect together.”

“It’s not that at all,” Violet replied with a gentle smile. “I just want things to be slow and normal, you know? Not all hyped up. People’s imaginations run away with them.”

“Gotcha, Miss Vi. Oh, which reminds me. Remember how I said I thought I just sprained my wrist?” he asked, holding up his left wrist for her to ascertain. “I think I mighta broke it.”

Violet gently prodded the several tiny bones in his meaty, slightly swollen wrist.

“Doesn’t feel broken. Go have it x-rayed in the morning. Could be a hairline.”

“I’ll do that for sure,” Gorski said with an overly animated nod.

“And G?” Violet added as an afterthought.

“Yes’m?”

“Drag Dez in with you when you go and pin his ass down so they can x-ray his ribs. He didn’t say anything about it when the doc cleared him post-fight, but I want peace of mind for us both.”

Gorski grinned like the Cheshire Cat just given license to torture the Mad Hatter, March Hare, and the Red Queen.

“You got it, boss. I can pin his skinny ass no problem.”

A couple of the ring girls came into the kitchen then, glaring at Violet and Taylor before grabbing Gorski. They giggled as they mobbed him and dragged him out to the giant living room to dance.

Gorski was by no means a good-looking man. The term meathead fit him well, shaved dome and all. But he had sparkling brown eyes, a kind face, and such a sunny disposition that women and children just fawned over him. There wasn’t a person on the planet who didn’t smile when Gorski walked into a room. Surprisingly enough, he worked part time as an occupational therapist with disabled children at the hospital two days a week. Though he didn’t come off as too bright, he was deceptively intelligent and perceptive.

“He’s such a doll,” Taylor said, taking a bite of her pizza slice. “I wish he’d find someone.”

Violet chuckled and also took a bite of her pizza.

“Looks like he’s found two someones,” Violet snarkily quipped with a raised eyebrow.

“You know what I mean, girl,” Taylor replied, thumping Violet lightly on the shoulder with a closed fist.

“I do. But he’s just out for a good time right now. No need to get settled. He’ll find someone soon enough. Let the man have his fun. Though, I’d like to smack those girls. Did you see the looks they gave us?”

“Uh huh,” Taylor drawled, rolling her eyes. “Skanky ass hos. They can’t handle this,” she continued, doing a saucy little hip swivel on the countertop.

Peyton came into view then, holding a rather large glass of deep red, clear liquid and another of blue and frothy. He handed the blue one to Taylor, who giggled with glee and kissed his cheek. Violet took the red one, eyeing him warily. She knew what it was, but she didn’t know how he’d known. She’d never imbibed in his presence. He smiled at her and winked, having noted her confusion.

“Dez said you liked Washington Apples, and I know from experience how Taylor loves her Superman,” he explained.

Violet grinned then and kissed him on the cheek as Tay had done before taking an appreciative sip of the drink. He watched her anxiously, his hand resting on her knee. The sweet and tart notes of the cranberry juice and apple pucker mingled with the warm, smooth, amber notes of the Crown Royal on her palate. It sparked a fire in her belly when it hit and almost instantly relaxed her. There was a lot of Crown in it; she didn’t mind at all. It was just what the doctor ordered for her tonight.

“Perfect,” she said, smiling flirtatiously at Peyton.

She reached across the island and handed him a slice of pizza.

“Dez said you liked ‘em strong, so I told ‘em ta put extra Crown in,” Peyton earnestly replied. “I don’t want ya ta think I’m just tryin’ ta liquor ya up.”

“Is that what you two were talking about in my office?” Violet asked, pulling on his upper arm to bring him closer to her.

She gently ran a finger down the edge of his jaw, noting the darkening of the bruises. He looked down into her eyes for a moment, an almost goofy grin playing across his lips.

“Sorta. I was tryin’ ta get some helpful tips about how I could gain your favor,” he drawled, smiling mischievously.

“Oh?” Violet laughed in surprised amusement. “And what did he say?”

Peyton cleared his throat and straightened, as though preparing to give some sort of righteous, monumental speech. The action caused her smile to widen and she made a show of dutifully giving him the floor to speak. He grinned.

“He said ya liked a gentleman, no matter how much ya talk about being independent. That I should always open doors, pull out chairs, and pick up the tab no matter how much ya protest. He said ya liked Washington Apples with more Crown than juice and that’s all the farther we got before you busted us,” he answered in earnest, laughter warmly lacing his tone.

“You’ve been in my favor pretty much since the first time you came into my office, Peyton. But let me pay sometimes, okay?” she asked, smoothing her hand up his arm.

“So, is this a date then?

“Do you want it to be?”

“That’s not what I asked darlin’,” he playfully countered, taking a bite of pizza, the light in his eyes playful. “Are we on a date right now?”

“Absolutely. This is a date,” Violet replied after considering the question a moment.

She looked over and noticed that they were not the only courting couple in the vicinity. Manuel and Taylor talked together softly, forehead to forehead next to them. They started kissing then, Manuel murmuring something about their upcoming wedding in a few months and it set Taylor to giggling. It was an intimate moment and neither Peyton nor Violet was too keen on intruding.

Violet hopped down off the countertop, pizza slice and drink in hand, motioning for Peyton to follow. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and followed her out to the crowded deck. They sat on an empty chaise lounge together and watched the partiers’ antics around the pool. Two of the girls, regular fighter-chasers, had taken off their bikini tops and were showing their goods to everyone in the pool. Peyton pointedly avoided looking in their direction and focused his attention on Violet.

Violet took a large swig of her drink, essentially draining half the glass before taking another bite of her pizza. She shook her head at the exhibitionists in the pool. Peyton mirrored her and stared thoughtfully at her for a moment before speaking.

“Ya think having that belt is gonna go ta Dez’s head?” he asked, his eyes leaving hers only briefly to check their surroundings before coming back to hers.

“It might. We’ll just have to keep his feet on the ground,” Violet softly replied.

“I like that,” he murmured, sipping from his beer.

“What?” she asked with a smile, leaning closer to him.

“We’ll have to.”

“Well of course. I’m not going to be able to keep that big head of his out of trouble all by myself,” she chided, playfully bumping her shoulder against his.

He smiled and took another drink and a big bite of his pizza. They watched as a couple of fighters from another gym chased each other up the diving platform and gracelessly vaulted off, landing just as gracelessly in simultaneous cannonballs that inundated the crowd near the pool.

Cheers and disgruntled yells erupted in the aftermath, leading to more people either being pushed into the pool or jumping in of their own accord. The two cannonballers dunked the topless girls, who then ran screaming and giggling from the pool to re-don their tops.

Violet and Peyton watched and laughed as Gorski appeared in the doorway with one of the ring girls held high above his head. Bellowing triumphantly, he ran to the edge of the pool and jumped in, the girl in his arms laughing and shrieking the entire time.

“It’s officially a party,” Peyton laughed. “Gorski has entered the pool.”

Violet laughed as well and took a large bite of her pizza. She chewed it slowly, watching as the people in the house gradually all came outside. It was too hot in the mansion what with that enormous crowd, and Manuel and Taylor’s backyard was the perfect party ground.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking—and I want your opinion on something,” Peyton spoke after taking another swig off his bottle.

“Hmm? ‘Bout what?” Violet queried, her gaze meeting his as she took another bite.

“I’ve talked to Manuel. He said Sybren Rook is gonna retire. He’s got three kids now and wants to be home more often for them. Manuel said Sy is lookin’ at coaching instead of fighting. So that’d open up a slot at Phenom.”

“Is that what you want to do? Switch gyms?”

“I don’t get along with most the guys in my camp, and Decker’s gonna be a real ass ta me now that—well, ya know. We’re involved. I think Phenom’s got better coaches and a better atmosphere for me. Plus, I’d get paid better now since my next fight is a title shot. Not ta mention, that Phenom trainer is one of the most gorgeous, funny, sweet, intelligent people I’ve ever met.”

Violet blushed, holding his gaze, allowing him to cup her chin and look deeper into her eyes.

She smiled faintly before replying, “Don’t switch if you’re not absolutely certain you’re better off with us. I’ll still tape your hands no matter what camp you decide to fight for. Just—promise you’re not switching because of me. Such reasons are never good reasons.”

“I’ve been wantin’ ta leave for a long time. I think it’s the best career move I can make.”

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She smiled when he took her hand and kissed her knuckles as she said, “Good. Can’t wait to tell Dezzy!”

He smiled at her, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He lifted the beer to his lips and took a long draught.

“What’s wrong?” Violet asked.

“You’re very perceptive. It’s just—there’s a lot more to it. Switchin’ camps, I mean.”

His eyes hinted that he wanted to talk about it, but at the same time couldn’t. She recognized it and decided to offer him a way out. For now, at least.

“You don’t have to tell me tonight, Peyton. I’m sure whatever your reasons, they’re for the best. Besides, tonight isn’t a night for big career decision making. It’s time to have fun.”

He squeezed her hand and smiled, “And we’re having fun.”

Manuel and Taylor appeared from inside the house then, walking over to the empty fire pit. Taylor sat down in a lounge chair, surveying the crowd and sipping from her beer, her gaze meeting with Violet’s and an excited smile lighting her entire visage. She waved at them while Manuel grabbed a few logs and made a teepee. He stuffed some newspaper and sawdust in the center, poured some lighter fluid over everything, and deposited a long match atop the tinder. Almost instantaneously, the whole setup had been lit. Violet and Peyton waved back at the little sprite.

People started dragging chairs over and settling down with their drinks around the pit, drawn to the fire like moths. The atmosphere changed, almost as if someone had hit a dimmer switched and lowered the lights. The heavy party vibe succumbed to a mellower set of circumstances. It was Violet’s favorite type of atmosphere. Chill. Relaxed. Quiet.

“Wanna head over there and sit with Manny and Tay?” Peyton asked after a few moments, his tone softly husky.

Violet hadn’t been aware of how intently he watched her until that moment, but with the alcohol beginning to dull her inhibitions, she leaned back, languidly stretching her arms above her head. His eyes unabashedly roamed over her and he sipped from his beer as if drawing strength from its contents. She allowed her own eyes to traverse the planes of his chest, the tight, defined curves of the sinew in his arms, and back up to that handsome, character-filled face. She smiled at him, polished off the last of her pizza crust, and leaned back further on the lounge.

“I’m quite comfortable here,” she replied at length, having lost herself for a few moments in his crystalline blue-green gaze.

“I’m glad,” he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly though he didn’t immediately break gazes with her.

He finished off his pizza slice and drew her legs across his lap, his movements slow and deliberate as he watched her face for any indications of hesitance. He allowed his fingertips to skim up her shins, then down her calves, stopping at her right ankle to trace the intricate green, black, and white Celtic knot pattern that encircled it, embedded with tiny white rosettes within the inked fibers.

Violet finished off her drink and set the glass down, letting her head loll back against the chaise’s pillow, acutely aware of his fingertips at her ankle, tracing her tattoo. It was almost like he branded her, marked her as his. She smiled to herself at the thought and her eyes traveled upward.

The night was clear, warm, and beautiful. Every muscle fiber in her body was beautifully relaxed and fluid. She could stay this way forever, she thought as she looked up at the sky beyond the light pollution of Vegas at the millions and billions of stars. She felt Peyton’s gaze sweeping over her and his hand lightly caressed her shin. The touch of his fingers on her bare skin was a potent elixir, both relaxing her further while simultaneously sending her into a hyper aware state. Goosebumps broke out over her body as his touch sent chills zinging down her spine in all directions. He noticed and that slow, easy smile came to his lips. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“It’s clichéd, but I do love watching the stars,” she said after a moment, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

Peyton tore his gaze from her and followed her line of sight. Just as he did so, they both witnessed a brilliant, bright blue shooting star that lasted a full three seconds before disappearing in the inky blackness of the horizon. Violet gasped involuntarily and Peyton chuckled.

“Well how ‘bout that,” he whispered with his southern drawl.

“Did you make a wish?” Violet asked, her voice tremulous with laughter.

“Nah, didn’t need it,” he replied softly, his eyes shyly seeking hers once more.

“No?” she asked, suddenly aware of how the air thickened around them.

His gaze was penetrating, almost too intense, but she couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to. He made her feel like the only person there. Like all he saw was her.

“Like I said. Don’t need it. No sense in wishin’ when I got what I want right here.”

Violet blushed and held his gaze. His tone had deepened and softened. Warmth flooded through her, pooling in her chest, lower abdomen, and she realized with some alarm, between her thighs. She felt slightly dizzy. She could have blamed it on the Crown, but she didn’t want to. She hadn’t felt like this since…since…

“Don’t do that,” Peyton pleaded softly, trailing a finger down her arm, his eyes wistfully following the gesture.

“Hmm?” Violet asked, her voice much airier and flirtatious than she normally would have liked. It was testament to how relaxed she was; her guard was down for him. “Do what?”

Peyton shifted so that he could look at her better.

“You’re comparin’ us. Don’t. I know it’s difficult not ta but—“

“I’m not comparing anything, Peyton,” she replied with a genuinely sweet smile as she sat up a little. “I was thinking how good this feels and how long it’s been since I’ve felt this good. Yes, I was thinking about my…Tommy. But I wasn’t comparing. And you know what?” She sat up more and scooted down so that she sat beside him rather than lay across him, “This is the first time that thinking of him hasn’t made me cry.”

Peyton lifted a hand and stroked her cheek with the back of it, his crystalline gaze traveling over her face, as though committing each detail to memory. He swallowed hard, his eyes going back to hers.

“I want ya ta be happy. More than that. I want ta be the one that makes ya happy.”

Violet laughed softly and placed her hand over his where it had stopped on her neck. He leaned forward, his eyes riveted on hers. She saw that he meant every word, meant it so much that it hurt. She didn’t want to be the cause of anything that hurt him.

She closed the distance and brushed her lips against his, softly, tentatively. The breath rushed out of his chest and fanned over her face and neck, followed by a soft, guttural moan. She hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. The sound he made was more than enough encouragement for her to continue.

With more certainty, she deepened the kiss, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and pull her into a sitting position on his lap. His lips were salty-sweet and slightly rough as they exploringly moved against hers.

A soft sigh escaped her lips when his tongue slowly slipped over her bottom lip, a taciturn plea for more. She parted her lips just slightly, silently consenting. Her tongue darted out eagerly to meet his as she pressed her body more tightly against him.

Sudden awareness of the cheers and whistles coming from the fire pit brought them back to reality. Reluctantly they pulled apart and looked over to see that they had in fact been caught. Laughter erupted from the crowd as they both blushed and bashfully looked back at each other. Someone had turned out the patio lights so that the only sources of light came from the pool and the fire itself, and as such, none of the faces in the crowd by the fire were completely discernible.

“Aww, leave ‘em alone,” Taylor’s saucy little voice piped up above the crowd and for the most part, everyone obeyed, turning back to their previous conversations without a second glance at Peyton and Violet.

Violet slowly turned her gaze back to Peyton. The firelight caught in his eyes, intensifying his diamond-sharp gaze and sparking little flecks of bright green and blue within his irises. It lent such beautiful warmth to the skin of his arms and face that it compelled her to touch him, to be absorbed by him. A slight breeze wafted the spicy yet softly masculine scent of his cologne to her and ruffled his fine, short, dirty blonde hair. Everything about him endeared him to her more.

It was what she’d been waiting for, and hadn’t understood it, since she’d lost Tommy. Peyton was what she needed, what she was missing in her life. She intertwined her fingers with his at the thought, looking down at their hands and noting how well they seemed to fit together.

His other hand came up to rest under her chin. He tenderly tilted her face up so that he could look into her eyes. She could fall for him, she thought to herself as his gaze searched hers. It would be as easy and natural as breathing. Everything with him felt like pieces of some complex, extremely difficult puzzle falling into place after she’d struggled with it for what seemed like eons. She felt comfortable with him. Safe. Relaxed. Adored…

Before she could form another thought, his lips were on hers once more. The kiss was more urgent and held a slightly rougher edge. It simply felt good. Really good. The urgency with which he kissed her was like a highly addictive, potent drug that had the most euphoric of highs and she wanted more.

Now.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, needing to feel his heat. He was like the Sun after she’d been left locked away in an icy cold dungeon for an eternity, starved for light and warmth and love. He was like gravity; an irresistible force of nature that she couldn’t ignore. That she didn’t want to ignore.

A soft moan slipped from his lips at the gesture and he crushed her to him, the kiss deepening as his tongue sparred with hers. She could get lost in him if she wanted. And oh how she wanted. She didn’t care what happened around them so long as he didn’t stop kissing her. Let the sky fall. Let the world end. Let the universe implode.

He pulled away abruptly then. She couldn’t quite quell the soft whimper of protest that tore from her throat as his lips disengaged from hers, almost painful in the sharp way he stopped. He held her face in his hands, eyes mirroring the maelstrom of emotions toiling within him. His shoulders heaved with his labored breathing and his pulse throbbed frenetically visible in his neck. Beneath the press of her palm, she felt his heart hammering in his chest, threatening to break through the bone and sinew. His eyes seemed to blaze within, lit by their own icy fire, devouring him from the inside out. He took a deep, steadying breath, tenderly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“We gotta—slow down,” he managed, his voice dry and cracking, his eyes pleading and yearning.

Violet leaned forward and kissed him again, letting him crush her against him once more for a brief moment of shared bliss. He stopped again, holding her at arm’s length.

“I mean it, darlin’,” he imploringly whispered. “If we don’t, I’m not gonna be able ta stop myself. I want you. Badly. But here ain’t the place.”

Violet nodded slightly, trying to keep the world from spinning out of control around her. Damn that Crown! She grabbed the edge of the lounge to steady herself. She giggled softly, an oddly uncharacteristic sound, and closed her eyes, letting the spinning feeling of vertigo overtake her for a moment. She leaned bodily against the chaise’s back rest.

“Are you okay?” Peyton asked when she opened her eyes again.

“I’m more than okay,” Violet giddily giggled, languidly sitting back up and resting her head on his shoulder.

She knew her words were beginning to slur and her movements were too loose, too uncoordinated. Peyton chuckled and nuzzled her hair.

“Darlin’, I do believe you’re toasted.”

“Oh a little toast never hurt nobody,” she nonchalantly slurred, watching the firelight dance across the mirror surface of the patio tiles and aware that she swayed a little.

Peyton laughed again, snaking a steadying arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him and he kissed the top of her head.

“I couldn’ta wished for a more perfect night,” he murmured.

“Is this what you wished for?” she drowsily asked, nuzzling his neck and planting soft kisses along his jawline.

He shivered and she watched the gooseflesh rise on the skin of his neck and arms. She loved that she had that effect on him. That she could disarm him and get through his guard with the press of her hand or the brush of her lips. It was exciting, comforting, and invigorating, all at the same time.

“No. This is so much better,” he softly rasped, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes.

Someone coughed from the direction of the fire pit. She knew that sound immediately and it was not a good one. Every nerve ending in Violet’s body sprang to life then, the drive to protect overpowering. She sat up abruptly and scanned the crowd for him.

At the edge of the deck away from the crowd, Dez stood hunched over the railing of the porch at the edge of the pool. He coughed again and she saw him spit something dark out.

Before she could react, Peyton jumped up and ran over to him. Violet tried to stand, but the effects of the alcohol sat her right back down. She watched Dez try to swat Peyton away, but Peyton wasn’t having it. He motioned Manuel and Gorski over. Taylor took the keys that Manuel offered and disappeared at a dead sprint into the house. Moments later, Violet heard the roar of Manuel’s SUV as it came to life.

Violet stood, adrenaline finally countering the effects of the alcohol, and jogged uncoordinatedly over to where Peyton and Gorski had physically sat Desmond down. She edged through the crowd that gathered, shoving people aside, and sat next to Desmond, pressing her ear against his back. She barked at everyone to be quiet so she could listen to him breathe. After a tense moment or two, she relaxed, standing back up to nod the okay to Gorski, Manuel, and Peyton.

Taylor opened the patio gate that led to the driveway, announcing the truck was ready. Desmond stood and allowed Manuel and Gorski to lead him out to the front passenger side of the truck, all the time moaning about how they should just leave him alone. Manuel quickly jumped into the driver seat while Peyton and Violet hopped into the back.

“Did he cough up blood?” Violet whispered to Peyton as Manuel gunned the truck out of the drive.

“Looked like it. It was too dark to tell,” Peyton whispered back.

Violet nodded and riveted her worried gaze on the paling visage of her big little brother. He rested his head against the window and closed his eyes. His features were rigid with pain.

“Did it sound like a lung was punctured?” Peyton asked after a moment.

Violet shook her head and replied, “Lung sounds were good. A little wetter than I’d like, but otherwise good.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Peyton replied, taking her hand in his.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. Desmond was rushed into emergency after Violet kissed his forehead and told him he’d be all right. She sat down in the waiting room between Manuel and Peyton, worry etching her features. He’d taken a nasty blow to the ribs in his fight. She ran over treatments and recovery time tables in her head, worrying for his health.

Manuel’s cell phone rang and he excused himself to take the call. No doubt it was Taylor asking what was going on. He’d called the gym’s attending physician on the way to the hospital and explained what was happening. Dezzy was scheduled later that week for his own doctor to check him out.

“I certainly didn’t wish for this,” Peyton said a moment after Manuel left to answer his call.

His expression was apologetic.

“It’s not your fault. If he’d have just listened—” Violet began, shaking her head.

“It’s not your fault either. He looked and acted fine. Yeah, he shoulda gotten checked out, but Dez is gonna do what Dez wants ta do, and ain’t no one gonna stop him,” Peyton interjected, stroking the side of her face with his fingertips.

Violet sighed, leaning into his touch.

“Right on. I just—wish he’d be more sensible sometimes.”

“Fighting isn’t exactly a sensible thing ta do for a living,” Peyton laughed softly.

The minutes dragged into an hour, an hour into two. Violet got up and paced on several occasions. Manuel brought them waters from the vending machine. By the third hour of nothing, Violet fell asleep with her head on Peyton’s thigh as they watched the late-night edition of the evening news on one of the many flat-panel LCD TVs in the waiting room.

The show droned on endlessly of politics and war, their prattle boring her nearly to tears. It was always the same. Just the names and faces changed. As the boringness droned on, she slowly nodded off, comforted by Peyton’s warmth and gentle caresses on her shoulders, neck, and head.

She’d been asleep for half an hour when the doctor finally came in, Desmond in tow. He explained that while Dezzy hadn’t fractured a rib, the blow had caused a laceration in the lining on his lung. The laceration was very tiny. However, when he drew breath, the inflation of his lungs opened it enough to let a small amount of blood through, which was what caused him to cough. In turn, that made the situation worse.

Desmond was not allowed any strenuous activity for at least three weeks while the rib and lung healed. Thankfully, no surgery would be required if he kept relatively inactive until the laceration had fully healed and his bruised, over-torqued ribs had had a chance to recover.

Violet bit back all of her “I told you sos” and simply kissed her exhausted brother’s cheek.

“Let’s go home,” she said to everyone once they’d signed all the paperwork and presented insurance cards.

They dropped Desmond off first at his posh ground level condo. Violet instructed him to call her as soon as he woke up. He sheepishly thanked her for not berating him with a litany of “I told you sos”. With all the painkillers he was on, she was certain that it wouldn’t be until much later that afternoon when he did call. They all waited and watched as he drearily plodded up the walkway. He waved at them before he closed the door.

It was five in the morning when Manuel pulled up in front of Violet’s condo ten minutes away from Desmond’s. Peyton got out with her to walk her to her door while Manuel fiddled with his phone—probably texting Taylor or the gym’s physician. Peyton followed her up to her door, taking her hand as they stopped outside on the landing.

“Thank you,” she softly told him.

He chuckled, “For what?”

“For making tonight, this morning, a good one. I had fun, despite the drama. And thank you for being there for Dezzy, and for me.”

“You’re quite welcome,” he breathed, his arm sliding around her waist as he gently drew her to him. “And thank you for makin’ it the most beautiful night I’ve had in a damn long time.”

She smiled at him, tilting her chin up so that she could look into his eyes better. He lowered his head, gently pressing his lips to hers in a sweetly soft exchange.

At last, he pulled away, cupping her face in his hands. He reverently planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

“I better get goin’. Manuel’s waitin’ and my bed’s a callin’. Ya got plans for tonight?”

“Not really. Probably finishing the book I’m reading or renting a movie at home.”

“Would ya object ta goin’ out ta catch a movie with me?”

Violet smiled and touched her palm to his cheek, “Not at all.”

“Awesome,” he excitedly breathed, his smile brilliant in the early dawn light. “I’ll give ya a call later.”

“I’ll be waiting,” she replied.

He kissed her again, a brief but much hotter exchange that left the lingering promise of more to come before bounding down the stairs and disappearing out the door. Violet sighed and went into her apartment, locking the three deadbolts behind her. She quickly stripped out of her clothes and donned her favorite pair of shorts and a tank top before shutting off the lights.

She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.