39
Wellings was one of the most feared fighters in all of MMA. There was a raw fury to his fighting. A wild passion that was beautiful and terrifying. He was swift and agile for someone as big as him, and there was no denying he had a natural gift that likely showed itself at a young age.
“How long before they started teaching you for free?” Romeo’s smirk turned cocky. “About two months.”
“Cashed in on that, did they?” Jules asked knowingly.
“As fast as they could. Just like you, I competed all the way through high school on a national level. We probably ran into each other without knowing it.”
“And when did you turn to MMA?”
Romeo gave her a dark, haunted look. “When I got tired of playing by the rules.” Jules heard the anger beneath the surface and could sense a lifetime of fury in that one statement. After all, Romeo had never been known for fighting by the rules.
Everyone knew he’d fight dirty to win. Penalty was his middle name. It was little wonder a hatred of the rules is what pushed him into MMA.
“Maybe rules are overrated,” Jules mused to herself while battling the lust pulsing through her bloodstream. “I think I’m sick of ’em.” Romeo’s eyebrows rose as if he’d heard some sort of defeat in her admission.
“Yeah?”
Jules nodded, still feeling dazed by the entire evening. “Oh yeah.”
“What’re we gonna do about that, Juliet?” Romeo sat back in his chair and ran a hand over the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he studied her. “You don’t strike me as a rule breaker.”
“I’m not,” she assured him. “I always play by the rules.”
“But not tonight?”
“Nope, not tonight. I told my brother I was out on a date with a cop.” 40
Romeo had been taking a sip of his water but coughed into his glass. Then looked at Jules with wide eyes and laughed. “Are you friggin’ kidding me?”
“No.” Jules laughed with him. “Wyatt hates you. I couldn’t tell him I was buying you dinner.”
“I’m personally insulted by that.” Romeo did a very good job of feigning insult. “I don’t think I like being your dirty secret.”
“I’m sorry.” Jules frowned before an incredulous laugh burst out of her. “Were we pretending to be allies? You’ve been bad-mouthing my best friend and my brother to the media for the past four months.”
“That’s part of the game. It’s what the promoters want. It’s what the fans want, and I like to give the fans what they want seeing as they’re the ones who make sure I get a paycheck. And I thought we already decided we weren’t enemies.”
“True,” Jules had to reluctantly agree. She took another bite of her forgotten dessert, letting the sweetness rest on her tongue for a long moment before she sighed.
“I’m not real sure what we are.”
“What would you like us to be?” Romeo countered tauntingly, his tone daring her to be honest.
Jules sat there quietly as she considered her answer. She really didn’t want to be enemies with him, not after tonight, not after what he’d done this morning. She genuinely liked him, but it was more than that. She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Everything in her was humming for something she was finding hard to name.
Friendship, sure, but there was something much more carnal between them. The word lovers seemed all wrong; it implied something soft and sweet and romantic, which was the very last thing she wanted from a man like Romeo.
“Sweaty and naked,” Jules finally settled on. “Wild, sweaty, and naked. That’s what I want us to be.”
Romeo sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes widened. His entire body tightened as if something electric had struck him, but Jules had to give him credit. He recovered
41
quickly and leaned forward as his voice dropped to a low hum of arousal. “You wanna take off?”
Jules nodded, feeling breathless with excitement. “But I got a brother sprawled out over the bed in my room.”
Romeo sighed, his body taut with obvious anticipation. “I got the same problem times two, but I have a black American Express that says I can rent any room this hotel has to offer.”
“I pay for the dinner. You get the room,” Jules said with a swift, lawyerlike efficiency.
“I’ll text you the number.” Romeo straightened his suit jacket as if looking for some way to cover up things that had risen. “Going up separate is a good idea. This place is crawling with tabloid photographers after the drama today. A dinner is one thing; leaving together is another. You could end up explaining more than you want to your brother when our picture ends up on TMZ.”