Fighting for What's His (Warrior Fight Club 2)

Billy frowned. “What did you need help with?”

“Oh.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I just got turned around and he pointed me in the right direction.”

His frown deepened. “You know you could’ve texted or called me, right? You need anything—anything at all—you can come to me, day or night.”

The words were infused with a sincere intensity that spiked her pulse. “Yeah, okay, Billy. Thank you. And I will. I promise.”

Chapter Four

Shayna was going ten kinds of crazy. It was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning, and she hadn’t heard a peep out of Billy. And she really needed to ask him a question.

She needed desk space, but she didn’t want to move things around on his desk without asking. They might only have lived together for two days, but she’d had plenty of occasions already to notice him straightening up after her or putting things away. And he was nearly fastidious in cleaning up after himself. So she was certain that he would not love her pushing his things to the side to make room for her laptop, photo printer, and supplies.

She’d debated long and hard on the idea of knocking on his bedroom door. But that felt too intrusive in case he just wanted to sleep late.

Instead, she sent him a text. Hey, you feeling okay?

When she didn’t get a reply, she wrote a note, slipped it under his door, and left the house to solve this problem another way.

When in doubt, there was always Target. And luckily there was one not too far away.

And because Target was the land of things-you-didn’t-even-know-you-needed, she not only bought a desk and chair, but she also loaded up on some desk organizers, office supplies, two new lip glosses, a super cute pajama set, and groceries for the week, because it wasn’t like she could expect Chef Billy to cook for her every night.

The nickname made her chuckle, even though he was a really good cook. But she wanted to do her share, so she also bought a few replacements of his things that she’d been eating.

About mid-way through the magical, mystical land of Tarzhay, her phone dinged an incoming message from Billy. Finally!

Yeah, sorry I didn’t see this sooner.

No worries, she replied. Need anything from the mecca that is Target?

He didn’t answer for long enough that she thought he wasn’t going to, but then he did.

Large non-stick bandages and medical tape. Only if it’s not a PITA

Shayna frowned at the request, and immediately thought of the cut he’d had on his shoulder yesterday. Though, it didn’t precisely look like a cut. More like an irritation had rubbed his scarred skin raw.

Yup I’m on it

She finished getting the things on her list and his, checked out, and headed home. Unable to find a parking spot on their block, she double parked on the street out front, grabbed as many bags as her arms and fingers could possibly hold—because she was too stubborn to want to make more trips—and waddled in through the front door looking like a pack mule.

Billy stood at the kitchen counter, head tilted back, drinking a glass of water. Shirtless.

Shayna did a double take that nearly had her dropping everything on the floor.

Her eyes couldn’t decide where to focus first. On the obviously hard muscles of his shoulders and pecs? On the actual ridges of muscles on his abdomen? On the way his gym shorts hung low enough on his hips that they hinted at the muscled indentations that she’d find beneath? If she ever looked. Which she totally would, except she didn’t have an invitation to go down under…

He arched a brow. She was so busted.

“Um, hey,” she managed, brazening it out even as her face filled with heat. “Sleepyhead.”

“Slept worth shit until it was time to get up, of course. Then all I wanted to do was go back to sleep.” He watched as she awkwardly settled all the bags on the counter, then extricated her wrists from the looped handles. “Need help?”

“Um,” she said again, because this close, she noticed two other things.

First, that he was a little sweaty, and the sheen of it over all those muscles was sexy as hell. It made her want to shower with him. Or lick him. Or both, but maybe not in that order.

And second, she saw for the first time just how extensive his scarring was. Save for the area around the cut on his shoulder—which looked bigger today—most of the scarring wasn’t a markedly different color, but it was smoother and shinier in some places and raised in others, compared to the skin that hadn’t been burned. And it covered the whole right side of his ribs and part of his back, from the waist of his shorts to his arm pit.