across the bar to where Jessica was laughing with some patrons.
Chrissy sat back, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face, as he tried to figure it out for himself. “You’re stuttering.”
“Shut up.”
—
It was six in the morning when Jessica woke up. Her leg was wrapped around Slade’s thigh, her head resting on his shoulder. She tried to disentangle herself, but he pulled her in closer and gave her messy hair a kiss. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“You were persistent.” She smiled, got out of bed, and headed for the bathroom to get ready for yoga class. This was the happiest she’d ever felt. “What do you have planned for today?”
“I’m supposed to be training Tony. I have to be there in an hour.”
When she was dressed and ready to go, he tried to pull her back into bed. “Yoga pants are the hottest things ever invented and your ass is the best ass ever made. Together, it’s like a surefire boner every time. I really just want to peel those pants off and bite your ass.”
She laughed and kissed him before pushing him away. “I gotta go. Don’t want to be late. I’ll wear them for you later. Not sure about the biting, though.” She turned, bent over a little, and wiggled her ass at him.
He groaned before tossing a pillow her way.
—
Slade used the key card he’d been given by the hotel’s receptionist. He’d had to use all the charm he could muster to get the woman working at the front desk to give him the card. But he’d had no choice. When Tony hadn’t shown up at the gym that morning, he’d gone to the hotel and spent five minutes knocking on Tony’s door with no answer. He had to find out what was going on.
The room was pitch black. There were empty beer cans on the floor, an empty bottle of whiskey, and cigarette butts filling the ashtray by the table in the main room of the suite.
“Tony,” he called. No answer.
The door to the bedroom was open. “Tony?”
He saw clothes scattered throughout the floor, not just men’s clothes but women’s clothes as well. In a sliver of light shining through the closed curtains, Slade could see red toenails, blond hair, and a tattooed forearm.
Slade was pissed. He walked to the window and opened the curtains, bathing the room in sunlight.
“Coño!” Tony yelled, turning his head away from the window.
“Oh, I’m sorry. What time would you like me to wake you, Your Highness?”
Tony mumbled something in Spanish again. Slade was sure it was expletives directed at him.
“You were supposed to meet me at the Academy two hours ago. Man, we need to start getting you ready. You haven’t trained in over six months, and you’ve bailed on our last three sessions.”
With his eyes still closed, Tony felt around the bed in search of a pillow, which he promptly put over his head.
“Get the fuck up, Antonio. We have a fight coming up. I want you in it.”
Tony mumbled in a thick, sleepy voice, “I’m not fighting in some small-town fight just so you can get your hands on your cut of my shitty winnings.”
Slade sighed. Fucking diva. This guy was going to be tougher than Francesca had anticipated. But regardless of all the things he really wanted to say, he needed to walk a fine line. Pissing Tony off too much could cause him to walk out, and Slade needed him. The Academy needed him. He would have to rein in his temper in order to get Tony to cooperate. “It’s not for the money, Tony. It’s to get you back in the game. We can train and spar all day, but until you’re in a real cage, in a real fight, with real fans, you aren’t going to get your head back into it.”
All Slade heard in response was snoring. And the woman…well, she hadn’t so much as stirred. He grabbed his phone and called for backup.
Twenty-five minutes later there was a loud banging at the door. When Slade opened it, a seething Francesca stormed in, a bottle of water in her hand. “Where is he?” she asked. Slade pointed to the bedroom. “Smells like shit in here. I told you this guy wouldn’t be easy, Slade.”
Francesca walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, her ass right next to Tony’s face. She softly caressed his cheek. Tony moaned. “Tony, honey. Wake up,” she whispered to him. He moaned again. “Tony,