Fix You: Bash and Olivia, Book 3 Read Online Free PDF Page A

through the crowd quickly, although we got held up a few times by new fans wanting his autograph. I was still riding on the high of his victory and relative good health when a girl in a tank top stopped right in front of him and lifted her shirt to expose her boobs encased in a barely there lace bra.
    "Can I have your autograph?" She handed him a Sharpie with a flourish, and I was about to take it and jam it up her nose when he shook his head.
    "Sorry, I'm in kind of a hurry."
    She pouted her overly lined lips and ran a finger over his biceps. "Maybe later then?"
    He gave her a tight smile and went around her.
    "Is this what it's like?" I called to him over the chatter of the now-dispersing crowd.
    "What do you mean?"
    He glanced back at me with a carefully blank expression, and I was pretty sure I had my answer. So apparently, part of being Bash's girlfriend meant dealing with hos trying to hook up with him. Apparently that was a common occurrence in real boxing too. Groupies.
    I tightened my fingers on his arm and he gave my hand a squeeze. We had more important things to worry about right now, but once this was all settled, I was going to have to do some serious soul-searching. I refused to be one of those whining, simpering women who lived in constant fear and paranoia of their man cheating. Bash had done nothing but prove time and time again that he was honorable and loyal and a true gentleman. We couldn't control how anyone else behaved, and with everything we'd already been through, I sure as hell wasn't going to let some silly trick get between us.
    Bash pulled up short as Mickey's muscle stopped in front of a door.
    He knocked three times and swung it open, waving us in. "These two insisted on joining us. You want I should take them outside, or…?" He leveled a questioning brow at his boss, who smiled.
    Oddly enough, I’d imagined him being bigger, for all the trouble he’d caused us, but in reality, he was small enough that the giant chair he sat in dwarfed him.
    "Nah, they're okay. I'm sure they won't be any trouble now that we're in business together, am I right?" He aimed the question at Matty, who stiffened beside me.
    "I don’t know about being in business, but I have no plans to cause any problems," Matty said, but his tone was icy to say the least.
    That clearly didn't worry Mickey any, and he gestured to his boy to go.
    Once the door was shut, he leaned back in his chair and clapped his hands together three times. "Bravo, kid. Bra-fucking-vo." He shook his head, a bemused grin splitting his face. "I didn't think you had it in you. I'd heard about you around town. They said you were slick and smart. You proved that tonight."
    He leaned down to tug open a desk drawer and reached in. Bash and Matty both took a step in front of me, at which point Mickey laughed. "What? Like I'm going to shoot you? What am I, an animal? I got your money, is all."
    He tossed a pile of bills bound with a rubber band onto the scarred desk and it landed with a thunk .
    "Five grand."
    He said it and sat back, waiting. Like he was waiting for the argument.
    Bash didn't disappoint. "Bullshit," he spat, and stepped forward to smack the desk with a taped hand. "You know I gave them a hell of a show out there, Mickey. I earned more than that."
    "That's debatable, kiddo. See, my line of work requires more than a few fighters coming out there with a fancy move or two. It was only a couple rounds. We need four or better to really make it worth people's while. You fought for a total of six minutes. Where else can a guy without a college education make five g's in six goddamned minutes?"
    "In a fucking boxing ring, that's where," Matty said, stepping up to stand next to his brother. "He could've gotten killed out there. We all know this isn't a per-hour gig. The money has to be enough to make the risk worthwhile." His voice was getting louder by the second and the dread in my stomach was getting worse the louder he got. This wasn't going to