The Fighter Duet: Two Full-Length, Red-Hot New Adult Fighter Romances Read Online Free Page B

late to order take-out when my phone buzzed in my hand. Sure! Lane misses Mommy.
    A smile broke over my face, and I quickly replied. Will be on the road before eight. See you soon!
    If anything could break me out of a funk, it was chubby little hands and a heaping dose of baby scent. I couldn’t wait to cuddle my little boy.

4
    “Live life. No regrets.”
    Kenny
    B y mid-afternoon I pulled my car up to Patrick and Elaine’s place in Wilmington. The eight-hour drive was exhausting, but dashing up the stairs, I couldn’t wait to see everybody. Patrick had the door open before I’d even knocked twice.
    “Hey, get in here.” He kissed my head before heading back to the bar where he was working. “Elaine and Peanut ran to the store to get more supplies.”
    His back was to me, and for a moment, I took him in. His faded jeans were slung low on his slim hips and his green tee stretched across his broad shoulders. I dropped my overnight bag on the floor inside the door and walked over to where he was cutting onions, carrots, and potatoes into quarters.
    “Digging the purple hair.” He hooked a long strand over his pinky and tugged before going back to his work. “But you’re still a bone. I’m making giant cheeseburgers, and I expect you to eat two.”
    “Either your memory is for shit or you never listen to me.” I pecked his scruffy cheek, the warm, faintly citrus scent of him filling my nose before I hopped up onto the counter.
    “What are you talking about? I always listen to you.” He only paused a moment to squint at me then he dropped the knife and pulled out several long, bamboo skewers.
    “I’m lactose intolerant, dumbass. You know this. Now hand me one of those.”
    “Well, shit.” His tone was teasing, and he passed me a skewer. “I can still make you a plain burger. Of which you’ll eat every bite.”
    “Sounds great! Just no bun. And no kebobs for me.”
    His lips pressed together as he moved the cutting board of vegetables between us. I grabbed a potato and speared it.
    “That’s your problem. Why no carbs?”
    “I teach low-impact, strength-training classes. Protein is what I need. Look how bulked up I am!” Pulling back my sleeve with my pinkie, I flexed my bicep proudly. I’d never had muscles before.
    He shook his head. “I’ve seen bigger lumps in Lane’s oatmeal.”
    “What the hell!” I kicked his thigh. “Don’t give my baby lumpy oatmeal!”
    “Ow!” He laughed, which made me laugh.
    “Just because you’re all Mr. Muscles.”
    “Muscles need fuel. You need to eat right.” He grinned, and for a moment, we only slid vegetables onto bamboo spears. I didn’t feel like old arguments.
    “So what’s going on?” He finished his and moved around me to wash his hands then leaned against the counter still holding the towel. “You usually plan your weekend visits on Monday, not Friday night. Want to talk about it?”
    I finished my kebob and reached for the towel to clean my hands. In the time it took to do so, my eyes went from his light brown hair touched with the faintest caramel highlights to his smoky hazel eyes. Patrick was so good-looking. Why didn’t I feel more for him?
    “I dunno.” I hesitated, feeling just the slightest bit nervous. “I haven’t been myself lately. I feel like something’s wrong with me.”
    “Like what? You sick?”
    “No,” I said, crossing my arms. Now I wished I hadn’t brought it up.
    “Then what’s this about? What’s on your mind?”
    Squinting my eyes closed, I thought about the pressure in my chest, about how it was so hard to take a deep breath. I thought about Patrick and me, and why a no-good punk in a magazine captured my attention when this sunny, Captain America didn’t.
    “I feel like somehow I’m destined to make bad choices. I mean, I’ll get these opportunities, and then it’s like I run away or screw them up somehow.” Hopping down, I walked to the table, my back to him. “Like just for example, why didn’t