“I feel good,” he replies with a smirk. “I feel great.”

“I know there was a lot of tension building up to this fight. On a few occasions you and Don Russell were gonna throw down outside of the ring, did that fuel your temper tonight?”

“It played a small part in my game tonight, but I’m a fighter. It’s my job to punch faces and knock people out and that’s exactly what I did.”

Matt Somers and the presenter chuckle at Seth and ignore Don, who’s sitting up now, getting checked over by at least three doctors. They don’t care about him… only Seth, the fighter who won the fight. What if Don won? Would they leave Seth alone on the canvas? Regardless of Don, what he stands for, and who he is, my heart breaks for him… no one deserves to be tossed away like garbage.

“What’s next for Seth Marc? If you could pick, who would you fight next?”

Seth’s gaze flicks over his shoulder and onto my face. There’s a message there that I can’t read.

“What’s next?” He ponders for a few seconds. “My wife is having a baby.”

More cheers ring out.

“And I’m going back home to Portland to run my gym. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

The spectators inhale sharply, almost unanimously before erupting into a fit of gossip. Matt Somers looks at Seth with a forced smile in place and the presenter tries to play it off.

“Don hit you a little too hard, Seth?” He laughs, stepping away from Matt and Seth. There’s an uneasy look in his eye as he searches the cage for something to switch to. When he spots Don sitting on the floor, he cuts over to him. Seth follows the presenter with his eyes, avoiding Matt’s awkward smile. Seth also spots Don, still on the floor, and he looks over at me. I nod my head, knowing he’s asking me if he should. My lips curl into an adoring smile as I watch Seth pull Don to his feet and shake his hand. No words are exchanged, but thankfully, no more punches are, either. My hubby is a good sport—a role model for other fighters. Don knows the winner has been decided. He knows there’s nothing else to prove.

Seth saunters from the cage and down the stairs. I pluck his hoodie off of the floor and hand it to him. He drapes it over his shoulders and laces his fingers with mine. I can feel his muscles tremble as I press my body to his while we walk. People pat him as we walk. They tell him that he did well and that they love him. He nods his response. His fingers tighten around mine, like he’s afraid someone is going to pull me from him, and they don’t relax until we’re alone in his room and the door is shut and locked.

I lean against the wall as he drops his hoodie to the floor and pulls down his shorts. My cheeks heat up at the sight of his naked backside. He reaches for a pair of scissors on the nearest chair and extends them to me, then pulls them back.

With a cheeky smile he asks, “Are you blushing?”

“You took your pants off,” I reply, forcing my eyes to stay on his face. “Of course I’m blushing.”

I glance at the scissors in his gloved hands. “You want me to cut them off?”

“New rule.” He chuckles. “You can’t say sentences like that when I’m naked. It makes me nervous.”

“Noted.” I laugh, taking the scissors from his hand. He extends his gloves to me and I cut them straight up the middle, freeing his hands.

He launches forward, his hot, bare hands cupping my face. My breath hitches as I press myself as hard as I can against the wall to avoid him rubbing Don’s blood into my clothes.

“I heard you, you know.”

My breath, quick and nervous, clashes with his. “You heard me what?”

“Shouting—encouraging me.”

“Move!” I scream as Seth side steps and Darryl stumbles into the cage. I feel my lips pull into a smile as I recall it. “I guess I did.”

He kisses the corner of my mouth really softly. It’s the kind of soft, teasing kiss that makes me want to grip his face and force him to kiss me harder. He releases my face and turns away from me. I watch his glorious back until he disappears behind the shower door. He showers for at least twenty minutes and I expect someone to bang on the door or kick it down by now, but no one does and I wait patiently, listening to the soothing sound of water crashing against tiles. A minute later, Seth steps out with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. The sight of his clean, tan skin dries my throat. He leans against the wall opposite me, and without a word from him, I walk closer to him.

“I’m sore all over…” He smirks, his dark eyes flaring brightly. When I get within reach, he pinches my shirt and tugs me closer. “I want you to fix me.”

Heat sears down my spine and pools between my thighs as he presses me against his warm, wet body. If nobody knocks on the door in the next twenty seconds, shit is going to get real dirty, real quick. I crave him. I crave to show him how much I love him, to temporarily heal his body with my own.

“How do I fix you?” I whisper, my throat dry and my voice husky.

“A kiss is a good start.” He dips his head and I’m paralyzed, unable to move away or closer.

As his lips graze mine, the door is unlocked from the outside and opened. Seth lifts his head, his eyebrows pulling together.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Seth? How dare you pull that bullshit!” Matt booms, throwing something around the room. It bounces off the wall and crashes onto a table, knocking over bottles of protein shakes. Seth shifts, tucking me behind his large frame. “You’re under contract. You can’t fucking leave!”

I peer around Seth’s body and Darryl throws him his jeans. Without a word Seth pulls them on and throws the towel to the side. My chest is tight as I anxiously wait it out.

“I’ll take care of this asshole, Seth,” Darryl tells him as Jackson slips into the room. “You go home and sleep off the fight.”

With a nod, Seth turns and scoops me up into his arms. I’m quite impressed he’s still able to move them after a fight like that.

“No!” Matt yells. “You can’t fucking leave! I have your signature down on a Goddamn contract!”

Ignoring him, Seth starts for the door, but Matt charges forward, ready to block us. Before he makes the door, Jackson slams his body into him, leaving room for us to leave.

“Bye, Matt!” I say, wrapping my arms around Seth’s neck and giggling like an idiot.

“Look after my boy, Olivia.” Darryl calls out and I smile at him over Seth’s shoulder.

“I always do.”

Seth squeezes me against his body and kisses my neck.

“Where were we?” he asks, grazing the tips of his lips across my cheek.

“Kissing,” I say without hesitation. I turn my head and softly press my lips to his cut. “I was going to fix you.”

People stare at us as we walk and kiss, but it’s nothing new. Before Seth, I avoided all forms of public affection. I realize now that it was because I was afraid that people would see through the charade that was my relationship with Blade. I was afraid that people would see that I didn’t love him.

With Seth, it’s different. I kiss him in public with everything I have because I’m not afraid anymore, and over the course of our relationship, I learned one thing; you should endeavor to find the one person you’re comfortable with. You should go out of your way to find someone who makes you smile at the same time they make you mad. You should find someone who doesn’t give you ultimatums, but is willing to grow with you and not for you. The right person for you will grow because they want to, not because you want them to. You should find someone who knows exactly how to make it up to you when they make mistakes—and remember, everyone makes mistakes.

No one should settle for less.

Everyone deserves their own Seth.

Epilogue

Seth

Months later

The barbeque sizzles under my spatula as I turn the steak onto its uncooked side. The sun is high, the air is warm, and no clouds litter the sky.

“How are those steaks looking?” Darryl asks, looming over the barbeque. He sets his beer down on the side and stands next to Jackson.

“The same as they did five minutes ago,” I tell him with a laugh.

At any barbeque, Darryl needs to be in control of cooking the meat. Normally, I let him do it, but since this is the first barbeque in our new house, I want to do it. I’m going to be a dad any day now—hell, Olivia’s belly is so round I’m sure I’m going to be a dad any minute now.

“I think Olivia needs help bringing down the cooler. Considering it’s filled with soft drinks, it’s quite heavy.”

I hand Darryl my tongs and spring towards the steps. I brush past Mom and Maddi and bound up the stairs quicker than I ever have and burst into the kitchen. Olivia’s mom, Sandra, jumps, clutching her chest as I accidently kick over the bin and stumble into the counter.

“For heaven’s sake, Seth!” her mom snaps. “Do you have to make a scene before you enter every room?”

“Don’t carry the cooler by yourself,” I tell Olivia. “It’s too heavy. Let me do it.”

Olivia shifts her weight against the counter and places her hand on her hips. There’s a smile on her lips, one of utter amusement. “Who’s manning the barbeque?”

“Darryl.”

Behind me, Sandra grumbles as she picks up the bin and the contents I spilled.

Olivia giggles. “Oh honey,” she pouts, extending her arms to me.

With a frown, I slide closer to her. “What?”

She circles me with her arms and I’m not going to lie, cuddling is really hard now that she has a belly the size of a basketball—it feels like one, too.

“Darryl took the cooler down earlier. The whole time he bitched about you being on the barbeque.”

That motherfuc—

“But if you want to help, Mom and I have three extra dishes that need to be taken down. She points to the three large plates on the counter. By the looks of it, they’re plates of pasta salad, potato salad, and a weird chicken salad that Olivia saw on the internet last night and demanded she make. Sandra washes her hands and grabs a dish. I grab one too, and so does Olivia, but I take it from her, balancing a plate on each hand.

“Easy now, Momma.” I laugh at her. “You’re going to pop any day now and I’d hate for you to slip and ruin such a delicious looking salad.

“Oh, ha, ha,” she deadpans. “Very funny.” Olivia runs her hands over her belly. “I don’t think he or she is ever going to come out.”

“He,” I clarify, “will come out when he is ready. Just relax and enjoy lunch for now.”

Olivia and I decided to keep the sex a secret… okay, that’s a lie. She decided for us to keep the sex a secret. She thinks it’s exciting, but I think it’s fucking torture. Once I tried bribing the radiologist to tell me what it was when Olivia wasn’t looking. I’ve never seen a woman so offended. You’d think I asked her to slip me her nipple while my wife wasn’t watching. It’s funny now, but at the time it was terrifying.

The nursery is right across the hall from our bedroom and it’s filled to the roof with all of the stuff a baby needs, but Olivia claims ours doesn’t. I bought a bottle cleaner even though Olivia plans on breastfeeding, but I told her once he chomps down on one of her nipples, she’s going to change her mind real quick.

We march down the stairs and I look at Darryl, who smiles smugly at me while he sips his beer. Jackson chuckles away beside him. I lay the dishes down on the table and Selena claps her hands together.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” she exclaims, excitement wrapped round her words.

“That’s how you speak around a dinner table?” Sandra chastises her.

Selena’s shoulders slump and she pulls her blonde curls around her shoulders. “Sorry.”

When Sandra turns around and heads over to the barbeque, my mom flicks her hair out of her face and leans across to Selena. “It’s okay to swear on occasion,” she tells her. “And I think being hungry and seeing a dish as good as that is a good fucking reason.”

I choke. “Mom!”

Olivia, Maddi, and Selena laugh, covering their mouths like little school girls.

“What?” She grabs her wine glass and draws it to her lips. To fit in, she’s poured orange juice into a wine glass. She’s been sober since she was released from rehab and doesn’t miss alcohol at all. I’m happy for her. I knew she’d come back to us eventually… even if I had to force it.

“You do know Jackson has to sit at the table to eat,” Maddi tells Selena.

Right. Jackson and Selena stopped talking after Vegas. From what Jackson tells me, they still have sex, but she kicks him out straight afterwards. A vicious cycle.

“I know, that’s why I’m downing this vodka like it’s water.”

“Lie,” Olivia chimes in. “You don’t drink water.”

Once again they all laugh and Mom joins in, too. It’s been a wonderful day and I’ve never been happier. We’ve swum in the pool, drank good alcohol, enjoyed good company, and cooked good food. I can’t wait to down it all and go to bed.

Since leaving the MMAC, I can’t say my routine has changed much. I still wake up early and I go to the gym. I work out with Jackson and Darryl and then we open up the gym to customers. The gym is buzzing. We’ve had so many sign ups we’ve had to buy the cycle store next door and extend it just to fit our members. We run daily classes and have a total of twenty-six employees and one trainee. Rick would be proud of Olivia and I for all that we’ve accomplished together. I just know he would.