Page 39 of It Must Be Fate

“I really don’t think it was his fault specifically. He stumbled into me.”

His hand comes to rest possessively on her belly as he pulls her into him.

“I can threaten the whole crowd with the same punishment if you prefer,” he offers sweetly.

“Okay,no.”

He presses his lips to her temple. “Speaking of which, how are you doing with the crowd? Is your anxiety okay? Any shortness of breath or racing heart rate?”

Bellamy suffered from panic attacks when I first met her in Switzerland. They’ve mostly abated since, but Rogue always keeps a watchful eye on her in situations that could cause her stress, looking out for signs that one might be brewing.

Ever since she got pregnant, he’s been even more overprotective.

“Nothing,” she replies with a smile. “I’m totally fine, don’t worry about me.”

“Worrying about you is my default setting, sweetheart.”

“Well, reboot your factory settings then.”

He chuckles warmly and presses his chest against her back, wrapping his arms around her and holding her snuggly.

The lights dim suddenly and the crowd goes wild.

Moments later, Phoenix’s opponent, a guy named Blade — I’ve already judged him to be a douchebag based on his name alone — skips down the walkway towards the ring.

I don’t spare him a second glance.

He’s not who I’m here for.

My head turns towards the other end and I watch as my husband emerges. Where his opponent chose to wear a robe, bedazzled shorts with his name on them, and over the top gaudy gloves, Phoenix comes out wearing a pair of simple black shorts, matching gloves, and nothing else.

His only accessory is the ink covering his body. It wraps around the dips and valleys of his muscles, blanketing his entire chest and a large part of his arms.

There were twenty-seven tattoos dedicated to me when we graduated from RCA.

He’s up to forty-six now.

He never tells me when he’s going to get one done. They just appear and I discover them when we’re naked in bed or making love in the shower.

I’ll trace each new tattoo with my finger and tell him I love it, because I do.

I think it’s one of his favorite things, watching me come across a new tattoo. He always stares obsessively at my face, taking in the delight that etches itself into my features.

There’s no memory too small for him to immortalize on his body. He has a plumeria flower on his hip simply because he had a bouquet of them delivered to my office on our first day and I stuck one behind my ear and walked around with it in my hair all day. He slipped out of a meeting and I saw the fresh ink that night when he fucked me on the dining room table.

He’s slipped out of many more meetings since that day.

My mouth waters as I watch him approach. He doesn’t even spare a glance for his opponent.

No, he stares at me instead.

“If you weren’t already pregnant, that look alone would get the job done,” Thayer whispers to me with a laugh.

I blush and smile sweetly at my husband. He exhales deeply, his chest settling with ease like seeing me alone brings him peace.

“Is that your girl, Sinclair?”

Phoenix’s jaw tightens. His gaze drags slowly over to his opponent.

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