Page 9 of The Clinch
In the ring, tells live in the shoulders. With her, they live in the silence. I clock them anyway. Discipline doesn’t turn off because the fight is emotional.
The fight buzz in my bloodstream finds a target.
“Don’t even think about it,” Eden says flatly, following my gaze.
I grin. “Too late.”
She groans. “God, you’re predictable.”
“She’s a grown woman, Eden.”
“She’s my best friend,” Eden snaps. “You break her heart, I break your face. I mean it, Leo.”
I don’t look away from Liz. “Pretty sure she knows what she’s doing.”
Nate chuckles. “You’re about to find out.”
I intend to. It’s been a while since anyone’s pushed back this hard.
No idea what her deal is, but it’s got teeth.
And it has me curious.
The bass slams.Lights strobe. Finn drags Jess onto the floor, all reckless confidence and sharp timing. The crowd folds inward, heat and motion feeding on itself.
Liz doesn’t move.
She stays at the table, legs crossed, fingers tapping against her thigh. Watching the room without offering it anything back.
Until I stand.
The second I do, she recalculates. She doesn’t smile when I stop in front of her.
I extend my hand.
The music pounds. Bodies surge around us, close enough to brush, loud enough to cover a hundred bad decisions.
She could say no.
She could turn away.
She could stay exactly where she is and make me retreat.
For a moment, I think she might.
Her eyebrow lifts, just a fraction. A pause long enough to register—calculation, resistance, consent.
Finally, she takes my hand.
The crowd swallows us whole. Fire surges through my veins. Bodies crush in on every side. The music hits my bloodstream hard and fast.
Liz moves like she’s daring the room to keep up—hips rolling, spine loose, head tipped back, all heat and command.
I follow.
Match her rhythm.
Shadow every shift.
