The next morning, I sat in one of the hotel room lounge chairs, not thinking about the fight hours away. A flash of the man’s ski-mask kept torturing my thoughts. I hugged a knee to my chest, staring off into oblivion.

“He was a professional fighter,” I muttered.

Mars set a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee on the table before taking the seat opposite me. He took the lid off his coffee and blew on it. “How could you tell?”

“The way he moved.” I cupped my hands around the warm cup, flicking my thumbnail against the groove at the top. “He was quick with calculated swings.”

“It would make sense she’d hire another fighter to attack you. Anyone else wouldn’t stand a chance.”

I brightened. “Was that another compliment?”

“You said it yourself. You’re good at what you do.” His lip twitched like he wanted to smile but held back.

I creased my brow. “He could’ve killed me. He had me, Mars.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. You’re alive.”

“Because you were there. What if—” Tremors laced my voice, making it crack.

“Harm.”

I dragged a shaky hand across my forehead.

He cocked his head to one side, face softening. “Is this more about him trying to kill you, or because you weren’t the one to stop him?”

I opened my mouth and snapped it shut.

His glance dropped to the floor before returning to me. “There’s no shame in fear. It’s a driving force.”

“I don’t need a lecture.”

“And I’m not a damn professor. You conquer fear by doing something about it. Your actions mold you. And I know you’re a doer, Harm.” He pierced me with his heated gaze.

I slid my pinky across my lips. “It pisses me off that I don’t even know who tried to kill me.”

Our dark eyes met, making my chest tighten.

“These things tend to have a way of working themselves out.” He rested his cup on the table. “The whole ordeal started as an act of passionate revenge. They were bound to fuck up from the beginning.”

“How would you know?”

He played with his ring, gaze falling to his palms. “I’ve seen it happen enough.”

I took a swig of my coffee and looked at his knuckles—no cuts, no bruises. “You almost killed him.”

“He pissed me off.” He held up two fingers as I readied to retort. “I know it’s no excuse, gatáki, but he got what he deserved.”

I peeled away the mouthpiece of the coffee lid. “And if I pissed you off?”

His palm slid over my hand, making my breath hitch in my throat. “I’m not sure where you’re going with that question, Makos, but I’d never hurt you.”

I gave an absent nod, focusing on our fingers touching. It felt normal—like home. His eyes shot to his hand before he cleared his throat and pulled away.

“Chelsea can’t know about it,” I mumbled, sitting back and holding my cup with both hands.

“Care to tell me why?”

“If she knew someone tried to kill me, that the threat was real—” I sighed. “Christ, she might pull me from the tour. I need this, Mars.” We stared at each other, welcoming the brief silence.

“Alright.”

We went quiet, sipping our coffees and peering at each other.

I tapped my finger on the table, moving my gaze to his hand. “How’s your hand?”

“Eh, it’s fine.” He showed me his palm and closed it into a fist. “I heal pretty quickly.”

I snatched his hand, staring at his perfectly unharmed knuckles. He yanked it back with a growl.

“Are you growling at me?”

“Why’d you do that?”

I slapped the table. “Because there’s stuff about you that doesn’t add up. Every time I ask you certain things, you avoid answering.”

He glared at me over the rim of his cup as he took a long swig. “You don’t need to know everything, Harm. If it personally affects you, I’ll tell you.”

I huffed. “Convenient.”

The conversation came to a screeching halt, and we sat still, slurping our coffees and looking anywhere else but at each other.

We’d been far too comfortable with quiet lately. I shot to my feet. “I need to swim. You want to swim?”

“Like I have a choice?”

“Good point. Lemme grab my suit.”

After grabbing my red bikini from my suitcase, I slipped into the bathroom to change. I didn’t always have access to a pool before a fight, but it helped warm up my muscles and relax them simultaneously. And it’d been way too long.

When I walked back out, Mars had his back turned as he slipped a pair of red and black board shorts over his hips. I was given a brief peek at the top of his muscular ass cheeks and had to grip the doorframe.

He cocked an eyebrow over his shoulder, his expression softening once his eyes roamed over my bikini-clad body. He turned around, tying up his shorts, and my gaze lingered on his chest. It was the second time he’d been half-naked, standing right in front of me, but now my feminine desires desperately tried to betray me.

I cleared my throat, wrapping one of the bath towels around myself, before tossing one at him. He caught it with one hand, watching me tighten my towel.

“You could at least cover your nipples for our walk over there.” I slipped into my flip-flops and moved for the door.

He wrapped the towel around the back of his neck, holding it out to the sides as he strutted over to me. “My nipples, gatáki?”

My eyes drifted down, and his pecs bounced.

“What does gatáki mean anyway? Pissant or something?”

He gave a wry grin and let the towel fall over his chest, reaching past me to open the door. “Guess you’ll never know.”

I glared at him as he passed and walked into the hallway. Chelsea whisked by, paused, and backpedaled.

“Do you listen for the sound of my door opening? How the hell are you always here?” I asked.

She looked at my towel. “Pure coincidence. Are you going to the spa or something?”

I snort laughed. “Me? At the spa? Please. I’m going to do laps in the pool.”

Mars stepped from behind me, and Chelsea’s face reddened before she let out an obnoxious cackle. I slowly turned my head in her direction with a raised brow.

“Kaliméra, Chelsea,” Mars said with a twinkle in his eye.

The cackle turned into a nervous giggle, and she played with the golden chain around her neck. “Well, you two have fun. I’m going to uh—call Tim and check in on him.” She waved, turned on her heel, and jogged away.

“Chelsea can be weird, but that was downright odd,” I muttered, watching her until she dove in after fumbling with her room key.

“She can’t help it.”

“She can’t help get flustered around you?”

“Maybe it’s my nipples.”

“You’re impossible.” I bit back a smile.

When we got to the pool, every pair of female eyes stared at him—the two senior citizens sipping mimosas at a nearby table, a group of college-aged women, and a couple of mothers fumbling with arm floaties on their kids. I glared, not approving of the mysterious possessiveness boiling in my stomach.

Whipping off the towel, I jumped into the water, sputtering when I breached the surface. A shadow passed by me, splashing water at my face. Mars’s head poked out, and he dragged a hand over his beard.

“You want to race?” I asked.

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

“Well, when you put it that way.” I glared at him. “I have to beat you now.”

He swished his arms under the water, the top part of his lip quirking. “You’re on, Makos. But I don’t want to hear any whining when you lose.”

“First to the end and back.”

“Just say when.” His eyes flashed.

“When.” I pushed my arms through the water.

It wasn’t long before I saw him swimming beside me, matching stroke for stroke. It only fueled my speed. I fluttered my feet behind me until I felt the concrete at the other end of the pool against my fingers. Doing a flip, I pushed off the wall with my feet and started in the other direction. The opposite wall was soon an arm’s length away.

So. Close.

A gust charged through the water, sending me in a spiral. Bubbles impeded my vision, and when I could finally see, Mars leaned on the far wall with a smirk on his face.

I smoothed my hair back. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“There was an underwater tornado. How could you not feel it?”

“I’ve heard a lot of excuses for losing, but that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

I rushed for the stairs. Each passing day became more confusing than the last—hearing things I shouldn’t be hearing, dreaming stuff I shouldn’t be dreaming, and now feeling unexplained motions underwater? I wrung my hair once I was out of the pool.

“Dear god. Who is that?” A woman sitting at a nearby table said. She ran her finger under the strap of her swimsuit.

Mars ran his hands over his head as he ascended the stairs. He pulled the rubber band from his hair, letting it fall in wavy, wet tendrils. The boardshorts clung to his lower half, droplets of water rolling over each piece of carved muscle. He had this sensual squint to his eyes as he shook his hair out.

“Do you do that on purpose?” I arched my back.

“Do what?” He slipped the rubber band over his wrist.

I stared at the piece of hair falling over his right eye and clenched my fist behind my back. “Nothing. Nothing. I need to get ready for the fight. My mind is one big jumble right now.” Grabbing my towel, I headed for the exit.

The sound of Mars’s heavy footsteps slapping against the wet concrete followed me.

“It’s getting old having to chase after you,” Mars grunted.

I turned around with narrowed eyes. “You’re a bodyguard. Don’t tell me I’m the first unwilling participant.”

He rolled his shoulders in silence.

“That’s what I thought.” I slammed my palm into the door.

He reached past me and pulled it shut. “You need to get your head clear. I know a lot has happened, but you go into the fight like this, you’re going to lose.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, slick.” I glanced at his hand blocking my way before shooting an exasperated glare.

He let go, mumbling in Greek.

He followed me back to the room but kept a reasonable distance, not on my heels like normal. I resorted to drinking green tea while watching re-runs of Friends to ease the tension. If Chelsea had seen me, she would’ve lost her mind. Only in dire straits would you see me drinking tea. Mars brooded in a corner the entire time, not talking to me. Occasionally, I’d glance over to see if he smiled at Rachel or Joey’s antics, but the same neutral expression would be there along with a furrowed brow.

I waited for the Wonder Woman music to play while bouncing on the balls of my feet in the wings. Chelsea attempted a pep talk and rubbed my shoulders several times before disappearing to her spot outside the cage. When the electric cello blared through the arena, I trounced forward, ready to defend my title for the third time. As I slipped into the ring, Mars caught my elbow.

“Clear. Your. Head. All it takes is one second—one moment of distraction. Forget about the attack yesterday, gatáki. Focus on now.” Mars seethed at me over the rim of his glasses.

“I got it. I got it.” I yanked my arm away.

He shook his head, backed up, and folded his arms.

I stared at my opponent as we came to the center to bump gloves. No sooner had they told us to fight, I threw a punch. I wanted it done—quick and to the point. She dodged it with ease and side shuffled away. I advanced, attempting to clip her when given the opportunity. Flashes of Mars beating the attacker’s face washed over my brain, overlapping us in ancient Greece standing side by side on the battlefield.

Her fist clipped my chin, warping me back to the present moment. I shook my head. The taste of iron coated my lips. I held my fists up, but not as high as before.

Why did running through that forest feel so real? I could smell the pine and my own sweat. Feel the adrenaline as a band of soldiers chased me.

She clipped me again straight in the nose. I tripped onto one knee but pushed myself up with a sniffle, falling back on the cage behind me. She continued to shimmy around the ring, only stopping long enough to hit me.

I snarled under my breath, staggering forward. The two hits made my vision blur. As I chased her, desperation fueled my swings. With every throw, I knew they’d only meet dead air.

How was his hand unharmed? Even wearing gloves, I’d gotten bruises during a fight.

She threw a hook. I caught it but lost my footing. Her shoulder nudged me, and I fell to a knee, stumbling back to standing. When I turned around to face her, her foot slammed into my face. Starbursts exploded across my eyes, and I fell to the ground in a slump. Cheers and boos echoed through the arena, muffling in my ears. I lay on my back, unable to sit up.

Mars’s face dipped into mine, and he patted my cheek. “Makos. Sit up.”

He wore a Spartan helmet with a red plume. I touched the side of his head. “Why are you wearing a helmet?”

He squinted. “Come on, Amazon. Get up.” His words were a command, and he hoisted me to sit up.

At first, I didn’t keep steady until I felt the warmth of his palm on my back.

“I lost, didn’t I?” I needed to hear it from him.

“You can get it back.” He stood, bringing me with him. Wrapping his hands around each of my hips to stabilize me, he waited until I stopped wavering to let go.

I moved next to the woman who defeated me and forced my chin to lift. My sinuses stung as I watched the belt wrapping around her waist. She hugged me, the salt from her happy tears burning the cut on my cheek. I patted her back before turning away and storming for the exit.

“Harm.” Chelsea fluttered after me. Her loose auburn curls bounced with each step. “You can win it back.”

I froze and pointed at her. “I shouldn’t have lost it in the first place.” Spying Mars prowling after me from the corner of my eye, I turned away.

I’d lost because my head wasn’t in the right space. Mars was right. But he was the reason for my mind being anywhere but the here and now.

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