Free Fighter: A Bad Boy Romance by Autumn Avery Page A

grab the handle. “You didn’t call to let me know—”
    But as the door swings open I see it’s not Alicia standing there; it’s Ty.
    “Oh, shit,” are the first words out of my mouth.
    “Nice to see you too,” he says, forcing a smile.
    “You’re … you’re bleeding,” I manage to say. And he really is. His face is cut in several places and he’s holding his side with one hand. He looks pretty roughed up.
    “Ah, it’s nothing,” he says. “But I gotta come in.”
    He doesn’t even wait for me to respond; he just shoulders past me into the kitchen.
    “Hey, wait a second!” I say, whirling around. “My dogs!”
    I stop dead. I can’t believe it. The dogs aren’t barking. They aren’t growling. Hell, they aren’t even on full alert. They’re wagging their tails and licking Ty’s outstretched hand.
    “Hey, boys,” he says calmly, stroking Bruno on the head. “How you doin’ tonight?”
    Chester rubs his head against Ty’s knee as he strokes him. This has literally never happened to anyone , let alone a man. And I am stunned. Ty has no reason to know this, so he is completely unfazed.
    “You got a bathroom?” he asks. I don’t know what to do, so I just point.
    “Yeah.”
    “Thanks,” he says. I stand frozen in the kitchen as the dogs follow him out of the room. He leaves the bathroom door open and I hear him turn the water on. “Sorry to just barge in on you like this, but it couldn’t be helped.”
    I snap out of it and march quickly over towards him.
    “Yeah, uh. What exactly is it that you think you’re doing?”
    I gasp as I reach the door. He’s got his shirt off, and I can see just how muscular he is. He’s ripped. There’s like zero body fat on him. His abs look like something carved out of marble, and the muscles in his arm look like they’re ready to pop out of the skin. He has more tattoos than the few I saw at the club. Tasteful as well. No dumb quotes or terrible portraits of ex-girlfriends.
    “Had a little trouble tonight. Need a place to crash.”
    “A place to crash,” I say, completely shocked at the audacity. “So you thought you’d just come here? I have children you know?!”
    “I know. Can’t be helped,” he sighs, splashing water over his face.
    “You are not staying here,” I say firmly, trying to keep my voice down. The last thing I need is Ella or Josh coming out of their rooms and seeing him. I never bring men back here. I don’t want my children to see me dating unless it’s something serious that I know will last.
    “Say, do you sew?” he asks me, eyeing his forehead in the mirror.
    “Do I what?” I stutter, so taken aback by the question.
    “Sew. You ever sew? I got a pretty bad one here,” he says, and when he turns to me I understand. One of the cuts above his eye is bleeding pretty badly and definitely needs stitches.
    “If you need stitches, you go to the hospital. You don’t come here.”
    “Can’t,” he grumbles. “They’ll be looking for me at the hospitals. Can’t go home either. You’re stuck with me.”
    “I am not—”
    “Look, princess,” he snaps, turning towards me. “I saved your ass the other night, now you’re gonna return the favor. Now you don’t want the kids seeing me, fine. I’ll crash in the closet if you want. But I’m here for the night, and you’re gonna go get a needle and thread and sew my fucking forehead up, all right?”
    His words hit me in the chest and all the air escapes my lungs. I don’t even know what to say. I can’t do anything but stare. I’m so shocked that he thinks he can talk to me that way, but I’m also so turned on by his sweaty, chiseled body on full display before me. The man I was fantasizing about, rubbing myself to in the shower, is now standing in my bathroom, and somehow I’m upset about it.
    It’s like a civil war raging inside my body with my head saying, “Get rid of him! This is ridiculous!” And my vagina saying, “Jump his bones! Jump his