Never Choose Flight (A Fighter Romance Novel) Read Online Free PDF

jetlagged,” she said. She could see right through my lies. She stood up and leaned towards me. Boobs perking out of her shirt. “Why are you actually late?” she said in a quiet voice.
    “I am actually jetlagged,” I said with the most irritated voice I could manage on her.
    “Sure,” she said, sitting back down. “Absolutely you are.” She gave me a wink. I have no idea how she could read me so well.
    I walked away, towards my desk. Plopped myself down without saying a thing.
    “Good morning,” came the other voice that greeted me every morning. It was also a sweet voice, much in a more sickening way. “How was your trip?”
    I looked up at Derek. “Fine,” I said. I didn’t much like talking to Derek. He’s not a terrible guy, by any stretch, but there’s one thing that everyone in the office knows about him. He has a crush on me. Not a grown-up crush. Not a let’s-go-for-coffee-sometime crush. But, like, a highschool crush. With the stupid flirting, and the nervousness. And the staring at my boobs.
    “You’re a bit late,” he said.
    “Yep,” I said. It’s amazing how oblivious to hints he is. I’ve been trying to shut him up for months now. Never letting our conversations go anywhere. And yet he continues to try.
    “Don’t worry though. I kept everything under control while you were gone. Even if it was for a few more hours than expected.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    I opened up my mail program and started to work my way through it. So many unread messages. So much of it spam. So much of it important. No way to tell which is which until I’ve read it.
    I go through them one by one, like I do every morning, but today I’m slower. Every now and then I just read something that sends my mind off on a tangent. People looking for the hard paper stock. Wondering if we offer overnight shipping. Hoping for some smooth , glossy paper. It seems like every word even remotely connected to last night brings back the whole flood of amazing memories.
    Eventually the emails just got too boring. I was distracted. My mind was somewhere else entirely. My desk is in a position where no one can see my screen. So I opened up my browser and searched “Malcolm the beast”. Nothing that came up had anything to do with what I was looking for. I tried “Malcolm the beast thomson”. There were a couple electronic message board posts that might have been about the Malcolm I had been fucked by the night before, but it was hard to tell. Apparently he isn’t the first man on the planet to refer to himself as a beast.
    Then I tried “Malcolm the beast thomson los angeles fighter”. And that brought up the kind of thing I was looking for. All the website still looked like they were from the nineties. But the first one I clicked on had a huge picture of Malcolm on the left hand side. On the right were his stats. Six feet tall. Two hundred pounds. Never lost a fight.
    That last part I found a bit unbelievable. Like, I’d seen what he could do. It was understandable that no one had ever been able to beat him. But you’d like he would have told me about that. Tried to impress me with it.
    All the other sites I could find about him said the same though. A lot of the compared him to another fighter, from New York. He had an even more intimidating fighter-name. He was Terry ‘The God’ Fletcher. The God. He also had a perfect record, I found. And he was known for harassing his opponents before the fight. Making them go crazy so that they’d be easy targets.
    I was glad that Terry was so far away. But I did find a ton of message board conversations about who would win, The Beast or The God. It was split pretty evenly. I didn’t find any evidence that the fight would ever actually happen though, so that was good.
    The next thing I knew, an hour had flown by and it was lunch time. Samantha walked past me and tapped me on the shoulder. I stood and followed her. Into the break room, past the crowd up people, and into our own little