Harley
Seth’s condo looks unlived in. Except for a small pile of laundry in the corner and a plate on the kitchen counter, there’s not much indication that anyone spends their time here. But then, perhaps he doesn’t. Mom is concerned he might be sleeping at the gym. She thinks having me around will give him a reason to come home. I haven’t had the heart to tell her that I’m more likely to join him than nag him to return to the condo.
It has two bedrooms, an open plan living area, and one bathroom—which Seth is currently showering in. Fortunately, neither of us are fussy about our appearance so we’re unlikely to fight over who gets to use the mirror in the mornings. Not that I intend on staying long. What man in his thirties wants his baby sister cramping his style? I’ll be here until I get my feet beneath me, and then I’ll find my own place.
It’s evening now, the sun low in the sky, and I pull together a dinner of pad thai. There wasn’t much in Seth’s pantry so I had to make a trip to the supermarket, and I make sure to cook plenty because I know he’ll want some as soon as he gets a whiff of it. The smell of the spices reminds me of the place I left behind, and a wave of homesickness crashes through me. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for it to pass.
“You okay?”
My eyes fly open. Seth stands opposite me, his hair damp, wearing a freshly laundered t-shirt and jeans.
“Yeah, fine. Got onion juice in my eye.”
“Uh-huh.” The crinkle of his brow says he doesn’t believe me. “Did you make me some?”
“Of course.” I busy myself stirring dinner. “I’m taking advantage of your condo, so it’s only fair.”
He grins. “You gonna cook for me every night?”
I shrug. “I can do most, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be hanging around. Depends if I find a place that’s within my budget. Maybe if I get a roommate…” I trail off because I’m not a people person, but needs must and all that.
“Stay for as long as you like.”
I glance at him, startled, and he chuckles.
“What? It’s not as if I’m sneaking women home every night and shaking the building down with parties. There’s no reason for you to hurry.”
Women. It’s strange to think of Seth with women because when we last saw each other, he was married and one hundred percent in love with his wife. The idea of him with anyone else feels wrong.
“I’m surprised you and Ashlin never patched things up,” I admit, although I don’t mention that I’m also disappointed. Ashlin is my friend. She’s the kind of person who makes the world a better place simply by existing. I don’t know what happened between her and Seth because neither will say, but any fool could tell they’re perfect for each other.
His eyes darken, and his nostrils flare. Ever since he was a kid, he’s gotten the same petulant expression when something displeases him, although at his current size, with his tattoos, it looks a little more menacing than when he was sixteen. He still doesn’t frighten me though. He may only be my half-brother—each of us having a different father—but the “half” part never mattered to either of us.
“Let’s not talk about her,” he snaps. “In fact, let’s make a deal. I won’t ask about your corrupt ex-coach, and you won’t mention Ashlin.”
“Okay,” I agree, because I don’t need Seth digging into the situation with Thaklaew—a man who wasn’t only my coach, but also my lover. I never mentioned that part to him because I was too ashamed to admit it. The fact that Thaklaew asked me to throw a fight was bad enough. The part that came after was worse. Even the memory hurts. His voice was slow and mean as he told me he’d been sleeping with other women who pleased him more than I did. Yeah, that was the icing on a crap cake, and if I have it my way, Seth and Mom will never find out. Even now, my gut churns at the memory.
“Why don’t we talk strategy?” he suggests, as though sensing my discomfort. “You dish up, and I’ll search for some videos of the other girls’ fights on YouTube.”
I nod. “Sounds good. Be there in a moment.”
He goes into his room and emerges with a laptop, which he connects wirelessly to the TV. Meanwhile, I serve portions of pad thai into two bowls and carry them to his sofa, which is positioned behind a coffee table. I place one bowl in front of him and keep the other for myself.
“Seems like they taught you something other than fighting in Thailand,” he says as he takes his first taste. “This is better than any of the takeout places around here.”
I laugh. “Of course it is. I didn’t have anything to do except exercise and cook.” And screw my coach. We kept that on the down low though, because it’s hard enough getting respect as a female fighter without earning a reputation for being easy.
He brings up an image on the screen. “This is Katy Collins. Six pro fights. Three wins, three losses.”
Except for her killer arms and shoulders, the girl on the screen looks like she’d be more at home in a cocktail bar than a cage. She has twinkling blue eyes, platinum blonde hair, and dimples. She looks nothing like the Thai warriors I’ve been facing off against for the past eight years.
“Don’t be fooled by her smile. She has a mean right hook and two of her three wins were by knockout.”
“Huh.” Mentally, I slap myself. I should know better than to judge a book by its cover.
He brings up a photo of another woman and explains that she’s Dutch, with a background in kickboxing. As we eat, he introduces me to all seven of my potential opponents. I’ll only be fighting three of them myself—presuming I make it to the final—but as for who I’ll be facing, it’s the luck of the draw. Amongst the possibilities is a black woman built like a tank, a girl with a shaved head and tattoos up her arms and neck, and a fan favorite who has been consistently doing well for herself over the past few years but still falling short of any major wins.
Once we’ve gone through the options, we discuss tactics. By the time I make it to bed, I’m exhausted and barely remember to brush my teeth before my head hits the pillow. The time difference is messing with me. Unfortunately, as soon as I close my eyes, a face flashes into my mind. Gorgeous brown eyes and a mischievous grin. Chiseled abs. Muscular calves.
Devon Green.
I try to shove him into a mental closet, but I can’t turn off my curiosity. Sighing, I roll over and grab my phone from the nightstand. It seems I won’t be sleeping until I’ve satisfied my need to know more about him. I enter his name into Google and get thousands of hits—most of them are actually him, even though the name is relatively common. Scrolling through images, I see shots from his fights and weigh-ins, and a bunch of him at parties, dressed nicely with a different girl hanging off his arm each time. His eyes seem to twinkle, but my heart takes a dive.
He’s a player. Of course he is. He’s too good-looking not to be, and while he was definitely flirting with me at the gym, I should know better than to think there’s something special about me. He probably flirts with every girl he meets.
Disgusted with myself, I click onto a YouTube video of him fighting a blond guy the caption identifies as Karson Hayes, hating how relieved I am not to have to see him with other women anymore. It’s crazy and ridiculous, but my mind keeps telling me that him being with them is wrong. The date on the video shows the fight was a couple years ago, but even then, Devon was good. His style is unpredictable. A little strange, but effective.
On the screen, Karson’s foot whips up and strikes the side of Devon’s head, and he drops like a rock. I wince. Eesh. At least, he was effective until that happened. The referee counts to eight, then calls an end to the fight. I shut my phone down and place it back on the nightstand, trying to erase Devon—and the memory of how electric it felt to spar with him—from my mind.
Then I dream of him.
Fuck.
Devon
“Yoohoo! Anyone home?” I call as I enter Jase’s house—or should I say mansion? “The door is unlocked. I’ll just make myself at home.”
I settle on the sofa, which is huge and comfortable. Jase is accustomed to me and Gabe crashing his place unexpectedly. The three of us have been training together at Crown MMA Gym for years now, and they’re the closest thing I have to brothers. I know they feel the same, even if they don’t come out and say it. There’s a noise somewhere in the private quarters, and I lean back, stretching my legs out in front of me.
“Fuck off!” Jase yells from the direction of his bedroom.
I grin. He’s probably getting it on with Lena, his girlfriend. Those two can’t keep their hands off each other. “It’s cool, bro. I’ll wait. I’m sure it won’t be long.”
He swears again, and a few moments later, he and Lena emerge, each righting their clothing. Lena’s face is the color of her hair—red.
“Hi Devon,” she says, grinning in a way that says she knows I know what they’ve been up to, and she doesn’t care. That’s what I love about Lena. She’s got fire. Not as much as Harley, though.
“You didn’t have to hurry on my account.”
She rolls her eyes. “Tell that to Jase. Apparently, you’re quite the distraction.”
I nod. “I hear that all the time.”
Jase groans as he tugs his t-shirt over his head, covering up the tattoos across his chest and shoulders. “Why, bro? Why couldn’t you let me have one night of peace?”
“Because.” I pause for dramatic effect. “I’m in love.”
His eyes bug out of his head, then he snorts. “With who?”
Lena drops onto the sofa beside me and leans forward like an eager kid. “Tell us everything.”
“Harley Isles,” I declare, watching the shock cross their faces. “I met her this morning and I can already tell that she’s the woman for me. No fucking doubt about it.”
Jase buries his face in his hands. “Harley? Please say you’re joking.”
“I’m as serious as I’ve ever been.” On second thought, I add, “More serious.” Because if we’re being honest, seriousness is not a strength of mine.
“Who’s Harley?” Lena asks, looking from me to Jase and back again.
“She’s Seth’s baby sister.” Jase flops into an armchair and shakes his head. “Leave her alone, Dev. You’ve just got a crush because you know Seth would string you up if you even looked at her sideways.”
“Not true,” I counter. “Have you met her? If you had, it wouldn’t seem so unbelievable. She’s gorgeous, and a total badass.”
“I haven’t met her,” he admits, running a hand through the ends of his hair. “But I know you, and it’s probably just a crush. Promise me you won’t act on it, because you’ll regret it within a week if you do. Trust me. I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m looking out for you.”
I frown. I know he means well, but I’d hoped he might be happy for me. The last loner of our threesome finally meeting someone who could take him down a peg.
“I can’t promise that. I told you, I think she’s the one.” Something aches in my chest and I rub it. The thought of leaving her alone feels wrong all the way down to my bones. “I won’t do anything to make Seth lose his shit though.”
Fortunately, Lena seems to read my expression because she smiles softly and tucks her hair behind an ear. “Tell me about her.”
“That’s more like it.” I force myself to grin. “There’s the enthusiasm I wanted to see. Hmm, where should I start?”
“What does she do?”
Jase grunts. “I can’t believe you’re indulging him.”
She ignores the cranky fucker. “Go on.”
“From what I understand, she’s been a professional muay thai fighter in Thailand for the past eight years, but she’s just moved here and Seth is debuting her as his first female pro fighter.”
“Oh, wow.” Her eyes light up with curiosity. “I have so many questions. How old is she? Because I would have thought, being Seth’s sister, that she was on the high end of the age scale for an athlete.”
I shrug. “Not sure. Maybe mid-twenties. Much younger than him, anyway. Momma Isles might have had an oopsies baby.”
“She’s twenty-six,” Jase mutters, eyeing us as though he resents us for making him a part of this conversation.
“There you go. Only a year older than me, and she’s hot as hell.” I grab my phone from my pocket and pull up a photo of her beside a Thai guy who might be her coach that I found online. In it, she’s wearing gloves, a sports bra, and a crooked smile, her hair slicked back against her forehead and her eyes gleaming with triumph.
Lena cocks her head and appraises her. “I have to say, she’s not who I saw you ending up with.” I start to scowl, but then she adds, “She’s much better.”
Damn right, she is.
“Who did you see me with?” I ask, unable to resist.
She grins. “A busty babe who’d be content to hang off your every word and inflate your massive ego.”
I should be insulted by that, but in the moment, I don’t give a shit.
“She’s a babe, that’s for sure.” Studying the photo more carefully, I notice the way the man’s hand rests possessively on her shoulder, and I don’t like it. A sense of wrongness blares in my head. Switching the screen off, I decide not to look at it anymore. I’ll find a better picture.
“Is she as smitten with you as you are with her?” Lena asks.
Jase scoffs, and we both glance at him. “I may not have met her, but I doubt Harley Isles is the type to be smitten.”
“I’ll bring her around.” Maybe she was hesitant about me, but we were vibing. That zing of awareness between us can’t be faked, and she didn’t take the opportunity to shoot me down when I handed it to her on a silver platter. “She definitely felt something.”
“Good for you,” Lena says.
“Thank you, beautiful.” I wink at her, and Jase glares. He knows I’m teasing though. If he didn’t, I’d have found myself in a choke hold within seconds. “I was hoping Jase might be able to fill in some of the blanks about her.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, flexing his muscles, and Lena licks her lips. What I wouldn’t give for a woman to look at me that way. “Like what?”
“Anything you got, man. I didn’t even know she existed until you mentioned her a few days ago. I need details.”
“God.” He rubs his eyelids. “Couldn’t you have gone to Gabe?”
“Nah, I thought about it, but he’s with a girl he’s known his whole life. You had to win Lena over from scratch, so you’ll give better advice.”
“I hate how logical that is. Fine.” He huffs. “I don’t actually know a heap about her. She moved to Thailand at eighteen and settled at a gym. I never heard Seth mention a boyfriend or serious relationship, but he’s pretty tight-lipped, so who the hell knows whether that means anything.”
“Perhaps she’s a career woman,” Lena suggests, giving me a slightly sympathetic look that says more than her words do. “Not interested in relationships.”
“Or maybe she just didn’t tell her hot-tempered big brother, who’s built like a freight train and has a wall full of awards for kicking ass, about her sex life.” If I were her, I’d be keeping Seth far, far away from any man I intended to see more than once. I’d do nearly anything for the guy, but he’s scary as hell at times.
“Maybe,” Lena allows.
“How many fights has she had?” I ask Jase. “I couldn’t find an official record online.”
“I don’t know.” He scratches his jaw. “Maybe seventy or eighty.”
I gape. “Holy shit. Are you having me on?”
Seventy or eighty fights is fucking intense. I’ve had six professional fights and maybe ten or fifteen amateurs. But seventy? That’s a whole other league. My respect for her skyrockets.
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “They don’t pay fighters much in Thailand, so they tend to fight every month or so, although the women generally get fewer than the men because the pool of competitors is smaller.”
“That’s insane. But kinda awesome.” I ponder the idea. I love fighting. Maybe I should move to Thailand. That said, I’d hate to lose the freedom of being able to grapple as well as strike. Jiu-jitsu is a ton of fun. “So, next to her, I’m an eenie weenie baby fighter.”
“Basically,” he agrees. “As long as she can get her ground work up to scratch, those girls she’s been matched against won’t stand a chance.”
“Huh.” Something occurs to me. “She’s had more fights than Seth.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything in terms of coaching.” This comes from Lena. “The most prolific athletes don’t necessarily make the best coaches. Seth’s secret is tough love and loyalty.” She gives me a meaningful look. “So don’t screw it up. I’m all for you finding love, but don’t stab him in the back.”
“I won’t.” While I may not always follow the rules, I’m an open person. It’s not in my nature to betray anyone. “Do you know what she likes to do other than muay thai?”
“Nah. Sorry, bro, I never paid much attention.”
“Damn it. I need an inside source on Harley Isles.” I glance at Lena. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to go undercover as a double agent and figure out what makes her tick?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not doing your dirty work for you.”
My phone vibrates and I check the screen, deleting the message as soon as I see it’s from one of the girls I met at Gabe’s fight yesterday. Maybe it makes me a douche, but I can hardly remember her face. My mind is full of Harley, and I have no interest in a substitute.
“Whoa, this just got serious,” Jase says. “Did you just delete an invitation to hook up?”
“Yeah.” It’s no big deal. From now on, I have no room in my bed for any woman other than Harley.