Until You're Mine (Fighting for Her)

by Cindi Madsen

  “For years I denied this was where I belonged,” she said, “but man, it’s good to be home.”

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Amen.”

  We walked to curb where the sun glinted off the silver parts of my bike, and I handed her one of the motorcycle helmets—she’d insisted on buying another one so we had two, because she said she preferred my brains inside my skull. “Did I mention that Hector and the boys are coming over tonight?”

  “Yeah, most of our kitchen stuff is buried, so we’ll order pizza.”

  “Perfect. Then dinner with both of our moms tomorrow.” My stomach dipped. That was a big one. Her mom wasn’t the biggest fan of fighters or the lifestyle, but she was flying in for Brooklyn’s art show and wanted to meet me. I’d charm her and win her over, but I hoped the in between part wasn’t too rough.

  Brooklyn paused with her helmet hovering over her head. “So basically what I’m hearing is we better hurry home and get busy, because it’s going to be nonstop madness for days.”

  I leaned in and kissed her. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

  “Yeah, moving to San Francisco for me pretty much gave it away.”

  I grinned. “You sexy, cocky—”

  She yanked me to her, dragged her tongue across my lower lip, and then kissed me so passionately I almost took her over my motorcycle. But her brothers and dad could walk out any minute, and while they’d gotten used to us as a couple, that would definitely push the limits.

  I climbed in front of her, fired up my bike, and raced us to our new home, where we were starting the next phase of our life together.

  Home. Family. Belonging to someone, and having someone belong to me. At one point in my life they seemed like things I’d never have. Brooklyn and I walked into our apartment, and I took a moment to soak her in, this beautiful girl standing in a sea of boxes that held what used to be two separate lives.

  Thanks to her, I’d gotten over my fear of wanting things.

  I knew she’d be there if I won or if I lost. Her love wasn’t conditional, and that made it safe to want her and to want us, and to want a future together. We didn’t need hope anymore. We belonged together, and I knew that as long as we kept helping each other achieve our dreams, nothing could ever tear us apart.

  Want more? Turn the page for a sneak peek of Liam and Chelsea’s story, Until We’re More, coming soon!

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  Chapter One

  He’s my best friend, he’s my best friend, he’s my best friend…

  I inhaled another gulp of the ocean-scented air that’d welcomed me home and pushed inside the MMA gym where I’d spent countless hours sitting on the sidelines, forever suspended between whatever literary world I’d escaped into and a world of striking drills, sparring, and ripped guys talking about past or upcoming mixed martial arts fights.

  My breath leaked out of me like a balloon that hadn’t been tied, complete with the screechy noise.

  Liam stood in the middle of the caged-in area with no shirt on, the sweaty sheen coating his body accentuating all the muscles upon muscles. Really, universe? Couldn’t you at least hook a girl up and help make my goal a little attainable?

  I hadn’t been back to San Diego in six months, and goal number one was to only think of my best friend in the most platonic of ways. No more having romantic-type feelings for him. Nope, I was over that. Done being a slave to unrequited love. Of course, it was much easier to keep on track from hundreds of miles away.

  The instant I stepped inside the gym that’d once served as my second home, the scent of rubber and worn leather invaded my senses and the familiar tap, tap, tap of gloved fists made me yearn to settle into my usual chair and turn into the girl I used to be. The one who spent hours avoiding her actual home by watching her best friend train for hours. Past Chelsea hadn’t had much of a life besides that, but since it meant being around Liam, that version of me hadn’t cared about a social life.

  Current Chelsea was working on caring, although she still preferred nights in more often than not. I’ve been doing so well, though. I went out on that date last month. And sure, maybe I accidentally compared him to Liam, and naturally he fell short, but I’m trying.

  Vaguely I noticed no one was seated behind the front desk. I talked to Liam on the phone here and there—although prying information from him was like convincing a baby to release their death-grip on a sucker—so I knew that Brooklyn only occasionally worked at the gym, but still came in a lot since her new boyfriend was also part of Team Domination. As much as I wanted to see Brooklyn, I was kind of glad no one sat behind the desk right now because it made it easier to hang back and soak in the action. AKA, ogle the fighters, and I had my eyes on one in particular. The very same guy I’d watched strike and hit more times than I could count through the years, and my heart skipped to the rhythm of his motions.

  As usual, a buzzer counted down the time the fighters had left in this training round—three minutes to go, which meant they’d started these drills two minutes ago.

  The professional fighting world had been completely foreign to me when I moved next door to the Roths at age twelve. Liam was closest to my age, and totally the strong silent type, which complemented my frantic, random-fact-spewing self quite nicely. I’d seen him out in his front yard the day we’d moved in and, determined not to be the sad new girl with no friends, forced one foot in front of the other until I was standing right in front of him. He was even bigger up close, and while I’d wanted to abort, his electric blue eyes locked on to mine and I’d stared way past the polite range.

  Once I found my voice I informed him we’d just moved in—as if he wouldn’t have realized that what with the fact that I’d come from the house next door, the moving van still parked at the curb. I threw in some “fun facts” about both Yucca Valley, where we’d lived before that, and myself, and I cringed at the memory of how I’d gone on and on about my collection of unicorns and how it’d filled two boxes. If there was anything I excelled at, it was embarrassing myself.

  Liam simply let me talk, nodding a whole lot as I rattled on and on, and when my brain finally got the signal to my mouth to stop talking already, he said he was walking down the road to grab food. I’d slowly backed away, hearing what I assumed was a hint to leave loud and clear. Only then he’d added “You wanna come?” and that was that. Like a trusty dog, anytime he was going anywhere, I’d jump at the chance to go with him.

  I could hardly remember a time when we weren’t friends, and even though things were currently more complicated than they used to be, he was still my closest friend and my absolute favorite person in the world. For years we’d fended off assumptions and accusations of being more than friends. Again and again we’d explain that we were just friends and why was that so hard to believe? Back then I’d even meant it, and I had no doubt he did, too.

  About six months ago, my feelings went rogue on me. I’d tried to stop them. But hello, he was tall and buff and he had this longish forever-tousled blond hair that made him look like that Greek god who wielded a hammer. While I’d always noticed he was hot, suddenly I couldn’t notice anything but that.

  One night I’d come dangerously close to kissing him and ruining everything, and since I didn’t have many friendships, I couldn’t risk messing up ours unless he felt the same. Liam had never been what you’d call forthcoming with the emotions, so I didn’t have much to go on. His brother and sister always insisted he cared about me, and I knew he did, but he’d shown no signs that his feelings for me went deeper than friendship.

  In order to keep myself from screwing up our relationship, I’d resorted to drastic measures. Not that I was testing him or anything, because an amazing job opportunity did come up, and in a lot of ways, it seemed like just the escape I’d been looking for. If it hadn’t been for Liam, I would’ve put mor
e space between me and my toxic family the second I graduated high school. So when I’d mentioned the job opportunity and told him it included having to relocate to Denver, I’d watched his face, hoping to see anything that might lead me to believe his feelings ran deeper. I could stay for more, but I couldn’t keep waiting and hoping and wrecking my social life waiting on something that’d never happen.

  Do you have any idea how hard it is to date when you have a ginormous, overprotective best friend? The few guys who’d actually hit on me ran in the other direction once they met Liam.

  Instead of asking me not to go, or even saying he didn’t want me living that far away, Liam told me it’d be good for me to get away and that the job sounded perfect, and the fact that he was so blasé about it made it clear I needed some space before I went and did something that’d ruin everything. The time and space had been good for me, too. I’d grown a lot over the last six months. I’d learned how to be bolder, how to make new friends, and how to erect boundaries when I needed to go that route.

  But standing here now, I didn’t feel bold, and I didn’t want boundaries, even though I should set some for my own protection. After all, I wasn’t back permanently. The company I worked for wanted to expand to the west coast, and since I was from San Diego, my boss had added me to the team that would be opening a branch here. I had six weeks to get in and out and spend as much time as possible with Liam without falling for him all over again.

  Six weeks. No big deal. I’m the picture of self-control.

  Just ask that box of donuts that I plowed through on my drive halfway across the country. Okay, so I’d meant to only eat a couple, but that was different. Donuts obviously loved me back.

  My gaze remained locked on my guy—er, my guy friend—and my rapid pulse rushed through my head in that way that made it hard to think straight, and I just… Well, I was right there with every girl who’d ever swooned in Liam’s presence, which was a lot. I used to watch in amusement as they would turn into babbling idiots around him, and I’d even teased him about all of his groupies, but right now, it didn’t strike me as funny. I had all the empathy for any girl who went and fell for Liam Roth. Especially since he was so damn hard to get over.

  The five-minute buzzer sounded, Liam’s unwavering focus on his training broke, and slowly—like serious slow-motion-type shit that you see in romance movies—his eyes scanned the area and landed right on me. My heart stopped for one second. Two seconds…

  A grin curved his lips, and then my feet were propelling me forward and he was rushing down from the caged-in training area, and a floaty, fuzzy sensation took over my body.

  Right when the hugging I desperately wanted to commence was finally within my reach, Liam stopped short. His arms dropped to his sides, and he frowned as he glanced down at himself—since he was looking at his muscles, I figured that made it okay for me to follow suit. You know, in case he had any questions. Why, yes, your abs do look crazy amazing and I’ve thought about licking them. I thought you’d never ask.

  “I’m all sweaty from training.” He glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the locker room. “I’ll hit the showers real quick and then—”

  I flung myself at him, not caring. Needing my arms around him, and his arms around me, because conflicted feelings or not, I’d missed him with a nearly-consuming longing that begged to be appeased. “You look… I mean, training is obviously… And I’m so happy to be…”

  Great. Now I was the babbling idiot in his presence, something I hadn’t been since I was twelve. Guess that was karma, paying me back. In addition to being a bit flustered by his hotness, it went deeper than that, though. This was my Liam, my rock, my friend who’d always been there for me. The guy I could have fun doing absolutely nothing with.

  He tightened his grip, hugging me so tightly my toes left the ground. “Damn, I missed you.” His deep voice rumbled through me, sending a swirl of heat through my gut, and just like that, my goals turned hazy all over again.

  He’s my best friend, he’s my best friend, he’s my best friend…

  …

  Acknowledgments

  I had the idea and setup for this book in my head for almost a year, and it was so satisfying to finally get it down on paper. I was wrapping up my hockey series, wondering what I should write next in the sports romance/NA genre, and my fabulous editor Alycia Tornetta said she thought MMA fighters would be a fun group of guys to center a series around. Just like that, a story immediately started taking shape. Then, after I wrote it, she helped me whip it into even better shape. Thanks, Alycia, for being so awesome to work with and for speaking my language, even when I skip words and focus on the important details, like how sexy the hero is. LOL.

  Huge thanks to Gina Maxwell and Rebecca Yarros, who keep me laughing and sprinting through the day, and are always there when I need them, whether it’s to talk fictional plots, real life, and everything in between.

  Thanks to MMA fighter Peter Straub from Easton Training Center for answering all of my questions. I laughed when afterward he asked if it was okay to ask what the book was about, especially after all the personal questions I’d asked him. I gave him a quick rundown, of course, and his excitement for the ending I had planned made me even more eager to write it. That interview and visit to the gym inspired me and solidified the Team Domination Gym in my mind, and if I made any errors regarding the MMA world, it’s totally on me. You know how we writers like to embellish for the sake of a good romance. Hehe.

  To everyone at Entangled Publishing, from editors, publicists, fellow authors, cover artists and all the other people there who help get my books from my brain to reader, thank you so much. Especially to Holly Bryant, Riki Cleveland, Debbie Suzuki, Heather Riccio, Jessica Turner, Kate Clapsadl, Stacy Abrams, and Liz Pelletier. Sorry if I left anyone out, but just know I think the world of all of you.

  Thanks to my readers for being excited and for supporting my books. Thanks to my fans and for the people in my FB group, Cindi Madsen’s Banter Babes, for keeping me company online and for being so enthusiastic about teasers and inspiration pics. Thanks to Allison Martin for the bar name the Fainting Goat. As soon as you posted it, I knew it was a perfect hangout for my MMA fighters.

  Last but not least, my family deserves all the praise for riding the writer rollercoaster with me. They are my constants, my biggest support system, and even better, they’re funny to boot! I love you guys!

  And thanks to you—yes, you—for picking up my book.

  Until next time, xoxo!

  About the Author

  Cindi Madsen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a pretty new pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music and dancing and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely not all year long) with her husband and three children.

  You can visit Cindi at: www.cindimadsen.com, where you can sign up for her newsletter to get all the up-to-date information on her books.

  Friend her on Facebook to learn about her adventures in lifeing and writing (Cindi Madsen)

  Follow her on Twitter @cindimadsen.

  Also by Cindi Madsen…

  Getting Lucky Number Seven

  Anatomy of a Player

  Crazy Pucking Love

  Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

  Nailed It

  12 Steps to Mr. Right

  Cinderella Screwed Me Over

  Just Jilted

  Falling for Her Fiance

  Act Like You Love Me

  Resisting the Hero

  An Officer and a Rebel

  Second Chance Ranch

  Crazy for the Competition

  The Bad Boy’s Baby

 
Operation Prom Date

  All the Broken Pieces

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