Page 75 of The Naughty List
The ref counts it out, but the medics are already approaching. When his opponent finally comes to, Jonah helps him to his feet. The poor guy looks like he doesn’t know what day it is or where he is. He’s probably wondering if anyone got the license plate of the truck that just ran him over.
Relief whooshes through my chest as I realize that this is over.
Jonah’s done. And he’s okay.
He won.
He beat the odds. In that moment it hits me. That’s what Jonah has done his entire life—overcome adversity to become the best version of himself.
Some guys from his corner rush our seats and pull me toward the fence around the octagon. Addi shoves me toward them and the next thing I know, I’m beside Jonah under bright glaring lights.
Only I would end up on television in my freaking pajamas.
A large Samoan guy, who looks like he could bench press us both, wipes Jonah’s face and head rapidly with a towel.
“Happy New Year, Hollis,” he says once the man moves to the side.
This is insane. Who’s life is this?
I grin up at him. “Happy New Year, Jonah.”
His lips lands on mine and they’re gentle. Probably because they’re split and swollen. But he kisses me deeply, sliding his tongue against mine as his hands grip my waist and pull me closer.
The entire place erupts into pandemonium, almost as loud as the knock out caused, but I can’t tear myself from Jonah’s side.
Then something occurs to me and I lean away from him. “If you could’ve just ended the fight like that whenever you wanted, couldn’t you have done it sooner than five rounds?”
He waves a hand toward the audience. “These people paid to see a fight.”
“Next year’s celebration might seem a little dull compared to this,” I say into his ear.
He grins, one eye so swollen it’s no longer opening, but he’s still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.
“I’ll promise you one thing, Hollis Rossi. Nothing with us will ever be dull.”
With that, he kisses me again and I officially fall completely and irrevocably in love with Jonah X.
Count it out, Ref. This girl is done for.
23
JONAH
SILENT NIGHT, HOLY NIGHT
“You need a shower,” Hollis tells me in the back of the luxury sedan taking us to my place. I rinsed the blood and petroleum jelly off at the arena, but she’s right.
“I need a sponge bath and a massage,” I retort. “Think any nurses are available that might be willing to give me one this time of night?”
She slaps me playfully on the chest. I took several solid shots to that area so I wince involuntarily.
“Oh God, Jonah. I’m so sorry.” She leans over and cuddles up to me gently. I breathe in the scent of her. God, I missed her scent.
“Definitely going to milk this for all it’s worth,” I admit.
She peers up at me from under her lashes. “You’re a mess.”
“I’m your mess now, Rossi.”
