Chapter 10

10

GRIFFIN

“ W hat? Did you think I was illiterate or something?”

Grace blushes and giggles to herself. “No. I don’t think you’re illiterate. It’s just not common for elite athletes to read a lot.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “I’d hardly call myself an elite athlete.”

“You kind of are.”

“Not really. But thanks,” I reply. “And I just really enjoy reading. Always have. I read everything I can get my hands on.”

I surprised Grace by showing up at her school to take her out to dinner tonight. The conversation has been free-flowing and easy, as has the laughter, and we’ve been talking about everything under the sun. She’s one of those people who seems to know a little about a lot of things. The girl is absolutely brilliant, and I’m enjoying my time with her more than I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with anybody in a long time. I’ve certainly laughed more than I have in ages.

For the last half hour, we’ve been talking about one of my favorite subjects: books. She was surprised that not only can I read, but that I read for pleasure. Not only that, but we share not just a similar taste in fiction but that some of my favorite books are the same as hers.

“Where did you get your passion for books?” she asks.

“My mom. She was a big-time reader.”

She frowns and looks down for a moment. “Did your mom … what did she think of you being a fighter?”

A wry smile curls my lips. “She wasn’t a big fan of me fighting. She was always worried about me getting hurt or doing some long-term damage to my brain,” I tell her. “If she’d had her way, I’d be teaching high school English.”

“There’s probably less of a chance of you suffering permanent brain damage.”

I scoff. “Have you seen the state of public schools today? Teachers are totally getting pummeled by unruly kids. I’m safer in the ring.”

Her face lights up as she laughs. It’s a high, musical sound that makes me smile. Her laughter is something I could hear every hour of every day and never get tired of. Everything I learn about this girl only makes me want to learn more. She has seriously opened a door in me that I never anticipated. It’s one I never knew existed. And now that it’s open, I find myself wanting to delve deeper into what’s behind it. With her.

“Those people have been staring at us for the last ten minutes,” she says.

“They’re probably not used to seeing somebody as beautiful as you.”

She laughs again. “That’s such a corny thing to say.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” I reply with a shrug.

I noticed people staring at us, too. And it’s probably because she looks way too young for me. Like I give a fuck what other people think. I turn to the couple giving us strange looks and fix them with an icy-cold glare.

“Something I can help you two with?” I ask, my voice low and hard.

They quickly turn away and whisper amongst themselves, doing their level best to keep from looking over at our table again. Shaking my head, I turn back to her. Grace’s lips are curled upward, and she’s got an amused expression on her face.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she replies. “But a girl can get used to having her own personal bodyguard.”

“Well, get used to it then.”

“Oh, you’re going to protect me from all the bad people out there?”

“Yes, I am.” Her smile melts my heart. “So, I have a little news.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve got a fight coming up in a couple of weeks. Nothing big, just a small club thing like where we met,” I tell her. “But I got a call from my former agent. It looks like there are going to be a couple of promoters there looking at me. Turns out, the guy they had slated to challenge for the belt injured himself and can’t go. Because I still have something of a name in the game, if I can impress them, they’ll put me on the card and give me a shot at a title.”

Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. “Oh my God,” she almost shrieks. “That is amazing news! I am so happy for you!”

“Well, nothing’s set in stone yet. I have to win this fight, and a couple of other things have to fall into place for all that to happen?—”

“Well, I know you’re going to win that fight,” she says. “And I know you’re going to impress them. As far as I’m concerned, you’re guaranteed a shot at the belt.”

“I like having you in my corner.”

“And that’s where I plan on staying,” she replies. “So, that’s why you’re in such a good mood tonight, huh?”

“I’m in a good mood mostly because I’m with you, but yeah, getting that call today sure didn’t hurt.”

“I’m so excited for you.”

“You’re going to be there, right?” I ask. “You’re my lucky penny.”

“Of course, I’m going to be there.”

“Good girl,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

Standing up, I lean over the table and give her a quick kiss, earning a disapproving frown from some of the nosey fuckers who think I’m doing something wrong. They turn away when I glare at them.

Grinning to myself, I head to the bathroom. After finishing up my business, I walk back through the restaurant and pause when I see a man I don’t know standing at our table. Maybe six feet tall with light brown hair and eyes, and he’s lean. Almost scrawny. And I don’t like the way he’s looking at Grace. He’s looking at her like she’s a possession. His possession. What I don’t like more is the way she’s looking back at him. She looks terrified.

When he reaches out and takes her arm, she yanks it away, her face etched with fear. Gritting my teeth, I cross the restaurant and push the man out of the way, inserting myself between him and Grace. The restaurant falls completely silent, the commotion drawing the attention of everybody around us, but my eyes are fixed on him, so I don’t give a shit who’s staring. The blood in my veins is boiling, and my hands are balled into fists.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I growl.

He licks his lips nervously and then glances around the restaurant, searching for a way out. This guy isn’t a fighter. He looks more like a guy who’s spent his life finding new and creative ways to avoid confrontation.

“Huh?” I ask again. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Professor Bryson,” he stammers. “I’m Grace’s teacher.”

“You’re her teacher?”

He nods. “Yes.”

“Then why the fuck are you putting your hands on her?”

“What? I didn’t?—”

I take a step closer, looming over the man. He stumbles back a step, bumping into the table behind him. He looks even more scared than Grace did.

“I saw you put your hands on her, so don’t try to tell me I didn’t. Don’t fucking lie to me,” I snarl. “So, let me make this perfectly clear, if you ever put your hands on her again—shit, if you ever make her feel uncomfortable again—I will rip your goddamn arms off and beat you bloody with them. Is that in any way unclear?”

“N-no. I understand.”

“Good. Now, get the fuck out of here.”

He bumps into the table again, this time nearly knocking over their drinks. The couple manage to keep their glasses from falling and cast a dirty look at Bryson and then at me. I flash them a crooked grin and watch as the professor scurries out the door.

I turn to Grace and ask, “Are you okay?”

She nods. “Yeah. I’m good. Like I said before, a girl can get used to having a bodyguard.”

I look around the restaurant to find that everybody’s staring at us. Our waitress walks over to us, an apologetic look on her face. She doesn’t need to tell me that it’s time for us to go. I give her enough money for the bill and a healthy tip before reaching out for Grace’s hand.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say.

“Good idea.”