Epilogue

"And remember," Hart said, wrapping up his speech by pointing toward a large poster on the wall across from where he was standing. It was an image of snowy mountain tops with words written across them. Words he read out loud. "Everyone has the will to win, but not everyone has the will to prepare to win."

He finished by raising a fist into the air, commanding the attention of the crowd in front of him. A crowd consisting of three young, very confused-looking fighters, sitting in their shorts in the locker room of Cane's warehouse, waiting for the night's fights to begin.

All three of them were new. Talented, but hot-headed and rash. Hart wanted them to focus so they'd get better at what they were doing. So they'd stand less chance of getting injured because they were too focused on getting that winning blow in instead of fine-tuning their skill.

"Any questions?" Hart asked, and the closest fighter to him raised a hand. "Yes, Ryker."

"Can we go now?" Ryker asked.

Hart felt his face fall a little. He felt like he had nailed his motivational speech this time. He'd spent hours looking for the right words, making sure they fit their personalities and youth. He didn't just make blanket statements—this was personalized.

He looked at the fighters, frowning when he found their eyes wide and panicked as they squirmed on their benches, looking everywhere but at him.

"Not that this wasn't great," Ryker said. "Because it totally was. Preparing to win… Wow."

"Yeah, like, where do you even come up with such…um…" The other fighter, Whisper, looked around for support. "Such…"

"Gems of wisdom," the third one, Rush, supplied. "Absolute gems."

All three of them nodded, standing up and gathering their things in a hurry.

"I feel so much more ready now," Whisper said, arms laden with stuff he tried shoving into his locker.

"I feel like I can take on anyone." Rush nodded, hip-checking his locker and forcing it closed.

"Totally encouraged and ready," Ryker said, opting to just leave his stuff everywhere. "Wow…"

They slammed their lockers shut, shuffling around Hart and scurrying out of the room through the door behind Hart's back.

Hart turned to follow them, finally catching on to the large figure standing in the doorway of the locker room.

"You don't have to intimidate your men into listening to me." He scowled at Cane, crossing his arms over his chest and trying not to pout. It was undignified at best, childish at worst.

"I'm not," Cane said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "They love your speeches."

"No, they don't," Hart said, turning his back on him. "And I worked really hard on this one."

Cane walked in, crowding into Hart and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"I heard it," he said softly. "I thought it was fucking inspired."

Hart frowned.

"Yes, that is exactly what I was going for," he said sarcastically. "Fucking inspired."

"You know," Cane said, using the hold on Hart's waist to spin him around so they were face to face again. "You're developing an attitude lately, sweetheart."

"I've always had an attitude," Hart said, running his fingers over Cane's chest and tapping over where the newest piercing was. A little bar through Cane's left nipple. "And you like it."

"Busted," Cane said, walking Hart backward until his back hit the lockers. He crowded him up against the cool metal and got very close to his face.

Hart was so weak when it came to Cane. So malleable and agreeable. It was frustrating sometimes, but also so satisfying. So right.

"You know," Cane said, nosing at the base of Hart's throat. "There's still about a half hour until the first fight."

"Mhm." Hart tilted his head back to allow him more space.

"The fighters won't be coming back in here. Not when there's a chance of ‘motivational speech, the sequel' happening."

"You said they liked it," Hart said, lifting his hands up to run them over Cane's freshly shaved scalp, finding the line where the shaved part met the longer, swept-back hair on top.

"I lied, sweetheart," Cane said, sucking a bruise into Hart's neck.

"Rude."

Cane chuckled against his skin. "Maybe. I like them, though."

"Yeah?"

Cane nodded, bending his knees and scooping Hart up by his thighs until he was held up against the lockers, legs tight around Cane's hips.

"So much," Cane said, grinding into him and making him see stars. He was rock hard against Hart, rowdy and ready to go in the blink of an eye.

"Fuck." Hart threw his head back, digging his nails into Cane's shoulders. "Someone will see."

"It's against the rules."

Hart sobered up enough to look at him. "What rules?"

"I used your fancy printer the last time I spent the night at your place," he said, hips still working against Hart's, making it hard to focus, but…what was Cane even saying?

"You used my printer to do what?" Hart asked around a soft moan that slipped from his lips.

"To make some rules of my own," Cane said with a feral smile. "I stuck them around in a few places so people know how to behave."

"What are the rules?"

"Don't worry about that. Just let me have you."

"Not until you tell me what the rules are, Cane," Hart said. "You can't make decisions like these unilaterally. We have to talk about the new rules so we can agree on them. Does Ares know? The twins? Are they all on board?"

"Oh, they all know. And they all more than agree. In fact, they insisted."

"But what are the rules?" Hart asked again, pushing against Cane's shoulders now and wiggling to be put down.

This was unheard of. Hart was the rule maker. New rules had to be approved. He hadn't approved anything. He hadn't even known there was something to approve.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Cane reached for him again, but Hart shook his head.

"No," he said. "I want to know now."

"Fine. There's a copy stuck on the locker room door if you're so bent out of shape over it."

Bent out of…

Hart was rushing toward the doors before anything else could be said. He slammed them open, turning on his heel right outside and craning his neck to read the single line printed on shiny beige paper.

His paper.

Rule 1: if you hear moaning, do not enter on pain of death.

It was…provocative. And uncouth. And…and…

"Your rule directly contradicts rule 5B of my rule list!" Hart exclaimed. "We can't have this, Cane. It's an HR nightmare!"

"Which rule was that again?" Cane asked. "The number of addendums is hard to keep track of."

Hart grabbed Cane's forearm and marched him to the closet rule list he had printed out, laminated, and framed in multiple key areas. He pulled up short when he saw Cane hadn't been joking when he'd said he'd placed his rule around. He'd actually taped his rule directly over several of Hart's—the one about running in the hallways, the one keeping fights to two per person, per week, and the one about blood spilling being kept to a safe minimum. Chaos would ensue!

He boiled inside.

"Cane!"

Cane shimmied behind him and kissed his neck, ignoring his frustration and trying to pick up where they'd left off. Or distract him. Probably both.

"What's up, sweetheart? I added the rule with the rest. I thought you'd be pleased by the organization."

Hart could feel his shit-eating smile against his skin, and he hated how it turned him on so much. This was serious! But he could also arch his neck so that Cane could get to the spot he liked behind his ear. It was just efficient.

"You threatened murder on the same rule list that says threatening murder on the premises is strictly forbidden," Hart complained, a little breathy.

Cane hummed, the vibration making Hart shiver. "Since I make the rules, I can be the exception."

Hart's eyes flashed open. He didn't know when they'd closed. "You make the rules?"

"Slip of the tongue," Cane said, using said tongue to lick at his ear, his piercing catching a whorl and tugging. "My sweetheart makes the rules, of course."

Hart melted into Cane's chest. "That's right."

"So we can add it," Cane said, running his hands over Hart's hips and down the fronts of his thighs.

"I'll review it."

Cane huffed a laugh behind him, the rumble of it settling Hart's jitters. Like always. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. You know the drill. Just tell me what you need and it's yours."

So who"s curious about how Hart and Cane first met?

Read our bonus scene to find out.