Fighting the Lure: A Queer MMA Romance by Katherine McIntyre

Author:Katherine McIntyre [McIntyre, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-01-18T00:00:00+00:00

We’d taken hours with dinner, sharing conversation and pizza. I passed the cheese fries to Ames, mostly because I didn’t want to get stabbed. We had built up appetites and demolished the pie in a sitting, and there was barely a crumb left. Far shittier than I normally ate with my steady lean protein and veggies diet, but today was all about indulgence from start to finish.

“You didn’t need to pay,” Ames said, pouting.

“No, but I wanted to.” I popped down a few bills and rose from my seat. My ass ached from sitting for so long, but honestly, the time had flown by. Night had coated the city in shadows, and the streetlights stretched out in either direction, casting their hazy beacons throughout Philly. With the honks of the traffic, the casual passersby, and the skyscrapers lit up, the city barely felt different than it did during the day.

“What direction is your place?” I asked.

She pointed to the right. “That way.”

“I’m walking you home,” I said, leaving no room for argument.

Ames fixed me a look. “I’m a big girl, Taylor. I can handle the eight-minute trek back.”

I crossed my arms, not budging. “And I’ve got ten years of living in the city on you.”

“Pulling out the age card, are we?” Ames said as she grabbed her bag and slipped the strap onto her shoulder. It was bubblegum pink with a unicorn, bursting with rainbows across the background.

“What’s that, a Lisa Frank purse?” I teased.

She wrinkled her nose. “Who the hell is that?”

I clutched my chest, feigning drama. “Ouch. Lord, I know I’m old, but damn.” As much as I joked, Ames was a decade younger than me, and it fucked with my head how goddamn hot my baby sister’s best friend had turned out. Still, she’d lived enough to make her own decisions, so I wouldn’t waste time second-guessing her. “Come on.” I tipped my head toward the road. I started in the direction of her apartment before she could argue with me.

As we walked down the sidewalk, a comfortable quiet settled between us. Cars zipped by, the flare of their high beams casting patterns on the pavement, and a metal and stone scent lingered, fitting with the slight chill the evening brought.

Ames shivered a bit as she tugged on her “not Lisa Frank” purse. Clearly, the lack of sleeves on her tunic and her shorts weren’t cutting it in the warmth department. I was tempted to plaster my body to hers, but I unzipped my duffel instead.

“Here,” I said, snagging my spare hoodie and passing it over.

Her lashes fluttered, and the softness in her gaze when she looked my way had my heart tripping all over itself. She tugged it on in a fluid motion, and my knees grew a little weak at the sight of her in my Knockout hoodie.

“Looks good on you.” My voice came out hoarser than planned.

“Thanks.” The lip bite and the way she peered up at me from beneath those long lashes was the sexiest thing I’d seen.

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