The chill of the night air bit at your skin, a welcome relief from the suffocating humidity inside the arena. You leaned against the cold brick wall near the fighters’ private exit, the distant roar of the fading crowd still echoing in your ears. 5 years, and the adrenaline of Gregory’s fights never got easier. You tugged the strap of your dress higher on your shoulder, a deep emerald green number you knew drove him crazy and checked your phone. No text yet. He’d be out soon.

“Well, well. Look who’s standing here like a dream.”

You looked up, jaw tightening. 3 of them. Suits that were too expensive for their cheap cologne, probably VIP pass holders. The one in front had a cocky grin that made your skin crawl.

“You’re that ring girl, right? The one everyone talks about? Even hotter up close,” He said, stepping into your space. His friend whistled low. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here alone? Your boyfriend leave you waiting?”

“I’m taken,” You said flatly, not bothering to smile. “Walk away.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” The second one edged closer, blocking your view of the exit. “Just a drink. We know you’re not really with one of those apes in there. A girl like you needs a real man.”

You opened your mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove that drink when the heavy metal door behind them crashed open with a deafening BANG.

The 3 men spun around.

Gregory Beckham filled the doorway like a storm cloud given flesh. Still glistening with sweat from the match, his black shorts hung low on his hips, every muscle in his massive torso carved and bruised. His blond hair was dark with sweat, slicked back from that brutal, handsome face. The silver chain necklace glinted against his broad chest, resting over the ink that coiled up his neck...a snake, a dagger, a pair of eyes that saw everything.

Gregory was staring at the man closest to you. Blue eyes gone glacial.

“The fuck did you just say to her?”

His voice was a low rumble, a leather-and-whiskey growl that vibrated in your ribs. The 3 men went rigid. The tallest of them still barely reached Gregory’s chin. Gregory cracked his knuckles, slow, deliberate and the sound was like rocks grinding together.

“I… we were just…” The first one stammered, backing up so fast he tripped over his own feet.

Gregory didn’t look at them. He looked at you. Even pissed, even with violence humming off him in waves, you saw it. The hunger. The way his pupils blew wide just looking at you.

“Baby,” He said, softer now, but the threat never left. “These assholes bother you?”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “They were just leaving.”

Gregory stepped forward, and the 3 men scattered like leaves in a gale.

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