Perfect Addiction (Perfect 2)

Kayden angles his body to face me and lifts his wooden spoon. “Hey, you gotta admit that I held my own pretty well against you,” he says gruffly. Then he shrugs, pivoting back to the stove. “It’s actually a shame you don’t fight in any promotions, because you’re good at what you do.”

I draw my lips together, contemplating. I’ve never allowed myself to consider fighting MMA outside of training. It’s something that has never been of interest to me. Training with clients have been all I’ve ever known since I got certified, and it’s a comfortable space for me to be in while juggling school, work and my sister.

“That’s not my fight,” I explain, resting my back against the sink. “I like helping people get where they need to go.”

“How about the underground, then? Less commitment, more cash.”

My mouth pulls into a frown. There’s no denying my distaste for fighting in the underground. Even when I was dating Jax, the unregulated, debased nature of it was difficult for me to get behind. The only reason I put up with him fighting there was because he was too stubborn to be convinced otherwise.

“No thanks. I respect the competitive nature of the sport. Not so much the underground.” I shrug. “But hey, if for some superfluous reason, I have to face a jacked-up dude in a greasy basement somewhere, you know you’ll be my . . . well, I don’t know if you’ll be my first call but you’ll be a call.”

“So you think that I’m fighting for superfluous reasons?”

Kayden asks, gesturing for me to move aside so he can strain the pasta over the sink.

“That’s why most people fight in the underground. For money, gore, fame, or all three. They don’t care about the sportsmanship. The spirit of being a professional athlete.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly as he studies me. “Interesting. You know, for someone who dated an underground fighter for three years and is currently training another one, you seem to have a weird problem with it. And with me being in it.”

I pause for a moment, not realizing that I’ve been putting a lot of judgment on him for fighting in the underground.

But I doubt it’s for the reason that he assumes it is.

“Fine.” A defeated sigh leaves me. “You really want to know why?”

“Yes.”

“It’s because it’s clear you don’t belong there. You don’t deserve to be fighting there because the underground’s beneath you,” I tell Kayden sharply, my words clanging through the kitchen. “It’s not because I think you’re more skilled than anyone who’s ever entered that cage. Though I admit you’re pretty good. You and I both know that a lot of people who join those fights are not entirely good people. Some have done horrible things to people who don’t deserve it.” My gaze drops to the floor as I begrudgingly admit, “And I don’t know you that well, but I have a feeling you’re not like them.”

He lets out a bitter laugh.

“Well, you’re wrong about that.”

My instincts push me to ask him what he means by that, but I hold my tongue instead.

It’s none of your business, Sienna. Things between youand him are complicated as it is.

“Here you go,” Kayden says as he scoops the pasta into two bowls and hands one to me. “Creamy pesto chicken pasta. I told you it wouldn’t take long.”

“Thanks.” We take our seats opposite each other at the dining table and I scoop the pasta into my mouth ravenously.

I let out a moan. “This is amazing. Totally worth not severing your hand for this.”

“I’m glad that you like it.” Kayden watches me as I continue to gobble up the rest of the dish. A disgusted look crosses his face. “Jeez, you’d think with the way that you’re eating that nobody’s ever fed you. Did Jax not cook for you?”

“Actually, he did,” I deadpan. “I hate to burst your bubble, but he treated me fairly well. Right up till the cheating part, anyway.”

“Did he ever apologize to you?”

“No.” My breath feels tight against my chest. “Because I don’t think he’s sorry. And it wouldn’t matter anyway, because I would still want this. To get back at him.”

Kayden is silent for a moment. His jaw clenches tight as he takes a bite from his dish. “Why did you love him?” His eyes search for an answer in my face as he seethes. “He’s a fucking asshole.”

“Not to me.” I shake my head. “At least, not in the beginning.”

I think back to the times when I was so distressed after an argument with my dad and Jax would scoop me into his arms and console me by convincing me that the world just wasn’t ready yet for what I had to offer.

You’re a fucking hurricane princess, Sienna, he’d whisper.