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on the bar. It had the location of his first fight. Contact information for Jake. Simple shit. You should give Jake a call and see if he’ll help you figure something out.”
    My face twitches at the thought of seeing him in the next couple of weeks instead of some unknown, mysterious amount of time.
    I haven’t even spoken to him. He called me when he landed, but I was out. He left me a text, but when I texted him back earlier, all he said was that he was heading for training. Do you get the feeling that this is what our relationship is gonna turn into? Some weird ass version of text tag? I hated tag as a kid. Not only because I didn’t like running, but I didn’t like chasing. Please hold all “chasing Logan my entire life” comments to a minimum please.
    “Maybe…” I chew on my bottom lip for a sec. “Maybe I should take Dean with me. He misses Logan as much as I do.”
    “I know…believe me, I know.” Luke parks in one of the spaces for visitors outside Dean’s school. “Talking to him sometimes feels like a foreign language. I don’t know shit about space pirates. Or flesh eating viruses that aren’t real.”
    “Video games,” my voice giggles. “Just say you don’t know shit about video games.”
    “Yeah those.” He smiles back at me. “Why don’t you wait in the car, and I’ll go grab him?”
    I nod in agreement, feeling an unexpected rush of nausea.
    God, I hope this passes. Could you imagine the look on Luke’s face if he came back to see I’d upchucked in his very expensive leather shoulder bag that is nestled between my feet? Are you picturing something along the lines of mortified highlighted with sheer rage? Huh. Me too.

Chapter 3
Logan
    “That wraps up session one of the day,” Jake says, smirking like he was the one training me.
    Which he wasn’t. Walking around in a designer suit constantly on the fucking phone is not training. It’s annoying. And he reminds me of the ‘Can You Hear Me Now’ asshole the way he continuously asks the people on the other end of the phone how their connection is.
    I wipe the sweat off my forehead. “Session one? How many are there?”
    “Two-a-days this week. Two hours each. Next week, we will move onto two-a-days for three hours each. Your body needs to adjust—”
    “My body has no problem fucking adjusting.”
    Jake cocks a smirk and takes a step so he’s closer to my face.
    Close enough to nail him in his fucking teeth depending on what he has to say next.
    “I don’t doubt that, Kellar. But let me make this crystal clear for you. You’re not in the minors anymore. This isn’t about parading around in a ring while your girlfriend holds the sign. Consider yourself a lion fighting for territory. A lion fighting to be the king for lionesses to worship. This shit is bigger than stepping in the ring and believing you’re the best. I have money invested in you, Kellar, and I’m not gonna let you piss it away because your ego is as big as your dick probably is. You’re gonna do shit my way. You’re gonna listen when you’re told. You’re gonna follow every fucking rule and protocol I say. And then you’re gonna say at the end of the day, ‘Thanks, Jake. Can I have another?’ because you want this as bad as you’ve ever wanted anything else in your entire fucking life.” The arrogant asshole smiles again. “And in return for being so damn obedient, you get paid. And by paid, I don’t mean that under the table bullshit Frank fucks with, I mean more money from a single fight than some people see in their entire lives. You make a name for yourself. You carve out a spot to become a legend. And you start to make a future for that kid of yours you just brought home and that gorgeous girl you left behind.”
    Before I can make a move, his cell phone rings again and he steps away to answer it.
    Every bone in my fist is aching to shove itself through his rib cage.
    “He’s always like that. Don’t feel special,” a soft voice says