Poking at my now cold toast, I said, “Wherever you suggest.”

Unease dripped into her words. “The only place I really know of is where Reese trains. What if he shows up?”

I didn't know I was grinning. It had just happened, and now, my cheeks ached from it. “If he shows up, it'll be perfect. What better way to practice than to take him down?”

“Huck... I know you got him down last night, but he wasn't expecting it. Reese has been fighting in the Dog House for a long time. He's a guy to take serious.”

“I'm taking him very seriously.” Standing, I dusted crumbs away. “The problem is, he isn't taking me seriously. He called me a newbie last night. I'm far from that.”

She chuckled and said, “After seeing you fight twice now, I figured you weren't new to this. I was wondering how a stripper-bodyguard had so much skill.”

“I was born skilled.”

“Your business card should say that.”

I laughed, shaking my head slowly. “I'll consider it for my next printing.” Heading into my bedroom, I opened my closet, my phone balanced between shoulder and ear. “Tell me where I'm going, I'll head there now. You need a ride?”

Zoe was smiling, I could hear it. “What am I supposed to ride? You aren't here.”

In my boxers, my cock jumped. I hadn't been expecting that. “Proud of yourself for that one, huh?”

Now she was chuckling, but it had a warm, breathy quality. “Maybe. I'll text you the address. See you in fifteen or so, Huck. Don't be late.”

Shaking my head, I ended the call. My eyes moved, finding myself in my mirror. Running a hand over my stomach, I grazed my erection.

Fifteen minutes wasn't enough time to get myself off and be punctual.

That sneaky woman had known.

It was a quick ride downtown to the location she'd sent me. The air cleared my skull, helped me focus on what I was doing. Which was good, really.

I didn't think Zoe would want me to crash my bike because I wasn't able to think of anything but her.

Parking my motorcycle, I grabbed my backpack, pushing through the front doors. It was a small gym, but that was normal. It was aimed at MMA, guaranteeing no one who showed up was just someone who wanted to walk for hours on a treadmill.

But, because of that—and the fact it was a Monday morning—it was nearly empty. Looking closer, I saw that someone had strung up some Christmas ornaments and tinsel on the walls.

There was a guy behind the counter, a young kid who nodded at me lazily. In front of him, a big wreath sparkled. Nice to see that even gyms can enjoy the holidays, I mused.

Turning slightly, I gazed at the equipment. There was a raised boxing ring in one corner; heavy bags hanging from chains or standing on strong bases sprinkled throughout. A few weights and other tools were set on another far wall.

I didn't see Zoe yet. Hoisting my bag, I swept across the gym towards the far corner. The shower area was silent, the air cool. Water echoed around me from leaky sinks.

Quickly, I changed out of my typical jeans and jacket. Zoe had been right, I didn't look like a fighter when I'd been in the ring. That hadn't mattered, but working out in jeans—well. It wasn't ideal.

In my defense, I hadn't been ready the first time she'd called me for help. The second time... okay, sure. I could have gone home and changed, like she'd suggested. It would have been a good idea. But being around Zoe...

To me, that was the better idea.

In long, dark green shorts and a black tank-top, I stepped into the main gym. Wrapping my hands as I walked, I nearly dropped the protective tape.

She was waiting for me, her body twisted in profile. Her dark-grey tights fit every curve of her body, a sight I could have gazed on for hours. Zoe's shirt was similar to mine, except it was a rich blue. It enhanced the wild-red of her hair, which she'd tied high on her head in a bouncing tail.

Her eyes were narrowed on the Christmas decorations with clear distaste. When she turned my way, I was sure she caught the lust that was trying to crawl out of my eyes and cross the room to smother her.

“Huck!” she called, hesitating, looking me up and down. I think, like me, she appreciated what she saw.

Grinning, I tied off my wraps and closed the distance between us. “Why were you glaring at all the holiday sparkle? Do you hate Christmas or something?”

I was joking, but she faltered. “No. I mean—not exactly.” Shrugging, she scratched the side of her neck self-consciously. “I love snow. I haven't seen it in a long time.”

“That seems easy to fix. I'm from Colorado, the snow is all over the place there right now. It's a weekend drive, easy.”

Zoe was frowning, trying to stop it and failing. “Leaving isn't that easy for me. I have responsibilities, and lack of funds... you know this.”

Icy guilt spread through my bones. Clearly, this was a sore spot for her. I was eager to change the topic. Indicating her outfit, I said, “What, am I supposed to be fighting you?”

Spreading her arms, she motioned down her body; I was eager to follow. “It's a gym. This is gym wear.” Blinking, her smile went crooked. “If you really want me to spar with you, I can. I'd just hate to embarrass you when I win.”

Reaching for her wrists, I tugged her against me. “Babe, if you win, I'll be something far nicer than embarrassed.”

She felt my cock thickening in my shorts. Blushing, Zoe disengaged and stepped back. I just chuckled, glancing at the kid behind the desk. He hadn't even looked up.

“Let's focus,” she said, though her eyes kept dancing down to my hips. Tugging at her hair, she faced away, walking further inside.

I didn't mind. The view was amazing.

Following her, I looked on while she set up one of the bags. It hung between us, the chains keeping it in the air jingling. “Warm up,” she instructed.

I was plenty warm. Smiling, I bit my tongue and rolled my shoulders. “I've never had such a sexy trainer.”

Furrowing her brow, Zoe tapped the bag and backed up to give me room. “Right. Tell me about the trainers you've had. I'm trying to make sense of this weird combination of dancer and fighter that you claim to be.”

“Is it that weird?” Bouncing lightly, I threw an experimental jab at the bag. The sound popped through the air, the chains squeaking. “Sparring can get a guy in great shape. Strippers need to be in peak condition.” Winking at her, I swung again. It wasn't hard enough to make the bag swing, I was just loosening my muscles.

Zoe studied me, taking it all in. “Hmm. But wouldn't fighting injure you? You couldn't go getting a busted nose, for example.”

“Are you worried about my pretty face?” Glancing at her, I punched the canvas with more force. Reese had come to mind. Thinking about her ex had shoved adrenaline into my veins.

Folding her arms, she looked away. “I'd like you to make it out of this in one piece. For your sake, and mine.”

The venom in her voice made me pause. Eyeing her, I switched sides, hitting with my other fist. “I'm flattered. Care to tell me more about your end of this, now?”

She blinked. “I said my debt was personal.” Her lips tightened, making it obvious she wanted to end this conversation here.

Double jabs, I started pounding the bag faster, fiercer. “You're grilling me about my past, but not letting me return the favor. How is that fair?”

“It's not about fair. It's about me saying I'm not comfortable going into this with you.”

Grabbing the bag to stop it swinging, I squinted at her. “With me, specifically?”

She stared at her feet, but I spotted the guilt before she hid it. “Huck, please don't press this. Isn't it obvious I don't want to talk?”

“Extremely obvious. Which is why I'm even more curious, now.” Slipping around the bag, I scooped her cheeks up in my palms. The bandage-wraps prevented me from feeling all of her skin, and I hated that. “Secrets are fine. But if your debt is going to change anything about how I feel about you—about what I'm doing?” My thumb grazed the side of her mouth. I heard her inhale, imagined her heart fluttering. “You have to tell me. Okay?”