Jase

The next morning, when I try to sneak out of bed, Lena's arms tighten around me. "Don't go."

I kiss each of her closed eyelids. "Baby, I have to."

Her hand fists around my erection. "I can convince you to stay."

I'd much rather take her up on the offer than go for an eight mile run followed by an hour of pad and bag work. Gritting my teeth, I beg for strength. "It's fight week, cutie pie. I only have three more days of hard training before the big event. I need to give it my all." Nuzzling her neck, I trail kisses along her jaw until I reach her mouth. "Next week, I'm all yours."

Her eyes flutter open, nearly blinding me with their beauty, but mercifully, she releases her hold on my errant cock. "You are?"

"Yeah." My lips curve up. I love how excited she is by that prospect. My previous girlfriends have always been more anxious to be seen out and about with me than to actually spend time, just the two of us. "I always take a week off following a fight like this one. I won't be totally free, I'll have to meet with Seth and Nick to debrief, and the guys will want to do something together, but for the most part, I'll be yours."

She frames my face with her hands, looking up at me. "Maybe I'll take a couple days off, too. I think I deserve it."

"You should definitely do that, and I'm not going to let you out of this bed."

"Promise?"

I kiss her. "Fuck, yeah."

"Okay." She drops her hands and makes a shooing gesture. "Get going then. Go do shuttle runs or burpees or whatever torture Seth has in store for you."

I scramble from the bed before she changes her mind, tug on a tank top and shorts, and will my stiffy to do me a solid and go down before anyone sees. Fortunately, listening to sports podcasts while I pound out my run on the treadmill works wonders, and by the time I'm wrapping my hands at the gym, sex is far from my mind. Seth orders me to jump rope for twenty minutes, and I'm halfway through when the door bursts open and two uniformed police officers shove their way inside.

I'm so shocked, I forget to jump, and the rope whacks me across the shins, but I hardly notice. The officers stride across the floor toward me, their boots leaving tread impressions in the soft mats. One of them unclips a set of handcuffs from his belt. In my peripheral vision, I'm vaguely aware of Seth demanding to know what's going on, but I don't need to ask. The truth dawns on me with terrible clarity.

Erin went to the cops.

I didn't leap to do her bidding, and this is the punishment. She wants to see me locked away, my mugshot plastered across the papers and my name in the headlines, alongside hers.

"Jason Rawlins," one of the cops says in a booming, authoritative voice. "You are under arrest for misdemeanor battery against Erin Daley."

I don't try to run. There's nowhere to go. Numbly, I allow them to cuff me. I'm meeker than a newborn kitten.

"I didn't do it," I tell them, knowing it won't make an ounce of difference. They're not here to hear my story. They're here to take me in and let Erin play out her twisted little game in the court of public opinion. "I'm innocent."

"Yeah, yeah." The officer with the cuffs drags my arms behind my back with more force than necessary. "Save it for the judge, scumbag."

His partner clears his throat. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

I tune out the rest of his words, catching Devon's eye. Beside him, Gabe's swarthy complexion is paler than usual. Seeing their faces does nothing to reassure me, so I seek out Seth. My coach's glare could shoot flames, but he's calm and collected.

"I didn't do anything illegal," I say, desperation creeping over me.

Seth nods. "We'll fix this, Jase. Don't say anything until your lawyer arrives. No matter what they offer you, don't open your fucking mouth. Understand?"

I swallow. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good." With that, he turns away, already making a call. The officers shove me toward the exit, pausing long enough to let me don my shoes before dragging me outside. The second the door opens, cameras flash and I instinctively duck to get away from them. Shit. Someone called the paparazzi. This is going to be all over the news in minutes. How will Lena react? Lena. My stomach revolts, threatening to throw up the omelet I had for breakfast.

"Hold it in," an officer snaps when I retch. He yells at a nearby photographer, throws the back of his police cruiser open, and when I don't move fast enough, he stuffs me in.

On the way to the precinct, the officers lob questions back over their shoulders, but I keep my promise to Seth and don't say a word. Even when I want to. They're insulting me, trying to press my buttons. They must've been told I'm a hothead, but they didn't count on how close-lipped I can be when it serves my purposes. It's only when they transfer me to a holding cell and one of them gleefully holds up a copy of an overnight tabloid that they finally get through to me.

The headline reads: "Pro MMA Fighter Jase Rawlins's Underhanded Tactics." Beneath it, there's a photo of Lena and I from the fundraiser. I'm holding her close, my lips touching her ear. The picture leaves no doubt we're an item. As I scan the text, a writhing ball of fury grows in my stomach. It goes on to say how I screwed my way into getting a prestigious public relations firm to help sweep abuse allegations under the carpet, and how I'd doubled down on general assholery by seducing my opponent's ex-girlfriend to throw him off balance.

"It's not fucking true," I growl, stalking across the cell and kicking the bench seat. "Lena has nothing to do with this shit."

"Doesn't look that way to me," the officer counters with a taunting smile. He's loving this. One of the bad boys of MMA is under his control, and it's probably the best thing that's happened in his pathetic life. He turns the tabloid and cocks his head, checking out the photo. "She's a hot piece of ass. Bet it wasn't a hardship to tap that."

Without thinking, I lunge forward, gripping the bars and spewing a stream of profanities, ending with, "Don't you fucking look at her. Don't think about her. Stay the fuck away from her, or I'll rip you to shreds."

Smirking, the officer backs off. "Might want to get that temper under control, buddy. Judges don't look too kindly on violent assholes with anger management problems. Especially ones who threaten law enforcement professionals." He gestures to a camera in the corner. One I hadn't noticed was there.

"Fuck off." Sinking onto the bench, I bury my face in my hands. How the hell has it come to this? I thought everything had turned around. That the worst of it was over. But this shit is just getting started, and I've dragged Lena down with me.

I curse and stomp around, feeling utterly helpless. I've screwed everything up for her. Lena's professional reputation is more important to her than anything else, and now I've muddied it. Will that company she was so excited about even take a second glance at her after I've tainted her?

"I'm sorry," I mutter, knowing she can't hear me but hoping she knows, nonetheless. "So goddamned sorry, cutie pie."

What had she told me the other day? She didn't like the limelight. Well, she'd be getting plenty of it now.

I'm ruining her life.

Lena believed in me. For the first time, someone other than my brothers from the gym had complete faith in me, and I dumped this mess on her. I should've known I could never have someone as good and sassy and witty as her. I don't deserve her, and now the universe is balancing itself out.

The best thing I can do for Lena is to stayaway.