Steele laughed, his smile easy and his posture relaxed as he linked our fingers together. "You're just bloodthirsty, Hellcat. It's such a turn-on."
I couldn't even disagree with that. We made our way through the main hall and past the cage where the fighters would meet in just under twenty minutes. Steele led me through a service door, nodding to the security guard stationed there, then led me down a corridor bustling with waiters and other hotel staff.
The makeshift locker room they'd assigned Archer was really just a meeting room set up with a handful of chairs and a folding trestle table holding several bottles of water. Kody leaned against a wall, his arms folded over his chest as he gave Archer a pep talk. Archer himself was jogging in place and shadowboxing, warming up his muscles.
When the door closed behind Steele and I, though, their eyes locked on me, and Archer's brows raised.
"Fuck," he breathed, his eyes raking over my outfit. "Where the hell did you get that?"
I beamed, pleased at the reaction I'd gotten. "Oh, this old thing?" I smoothed my hands down the front of my pristine white hoodie-dress. "I've had it for ages, just never found the right time to wear it."
Archer prowled closer, his eyes pure predator. "That design was cancelled after Riot Night, Princess. You wanna tell me you were a fangirl before you knew who I was?" His smile was half disbelief, half smug satisfaction.
I shrugged. "What can I say? I sure as fuck wasn't at the Laughing Clown for the other guy."
He shook his head, his hands clasping my waist as he pushed me into the wall. "Kody, bro, have you got that marker pen?"
Archer reached his hand out, and Kody handed over a chunky black pen from his back pocket. With one hand pinning my chest against the wall, he made an amendment to my limited-edition, fangirl hoodie.
When he was done, he eyed his handiwork with total satisfaction and capped the pen once more.
"Much better," he commented, then grabbed the back of my head and tilted my face up for a bruising kiss.
"Caveman," I muttered when he released me, but he just brushed his thumb across my swollen lower lip and winked with a promise of later.
I sighed, peering down at my hoodie when Archer turned back to Kody. The black text across my chest had previously just read The Archer, and on the back was a stylized stag, like a watered-down version of the intricate tattoo on Archer's back. Now, though? My chest read The Archer's Girl. Back Off!
The bastard himself met my eye across the room as Kody finished taping his hands and scribbled a signature across the inner wrists with his marker.
"You ready to win, bro?" Kody asked as Archer flipped his hood up and took a quick sip from his water bottle.
Archer paused a moment before he replied, running his gaze over me and staring at his handwriting on my breasts.
"Now I am."
39
The crowd was in a frenzy of excitement by the time the four of us—plus Jase, the slimy fuck—made our way back through to the main event space. The celebrity commentator was having a grand old time in the cage with his announcements, really channeling his inner Bruce Buffer.
We paid little attention to him, though, making our way across to the side of the cage where the referee and an official did their mandatory safety checks, making sure Archer's mouthguard was in and that his gloves had been properly secured and signed.
Steele slipped away to the side, taking one of the seats that were reserved for us, and I started to follow him, only to be yanked backwards by a gloved hand on the back of my neck.
Archer tugged his mouthguard out then his lips crushed to mine, his tongue sweeping inside in a harsh, possessive, demanding kiss. When he released me, our foreheads pressed together for a second and his gaze drilled into me with scorching heat.
"Better hydrate, baby girl. It's gonna be a long night after I win this shit." With a confident wink, he replaced his mouthguard, then shed his hoodie, tossed it to Kody, and entered the fight cage.
Touching my fingers to my swollen lips, I breathed a heavy sigh and retreated to the seat beside Steele. Ecstatic butterflies flapped around inside me like they were tripping on acid, and my heart was in my throat. I wanted Archer to win—of course I did—but I was also