The Only Way (21 page)

Silence filled the room and Hart stared up at the ceiling, wishing she could just disappear. Then Ruby leaned into her field of vision, a considering look on her face.

"You kissed me."

There was no denying it. "Yeah."

"Did you want to?"

Hart frowned, her face hot. "Wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to," she mumbled.

Ruby paused and smiled. "Okay." She bent down, pressing her mouth to Hart's, kissing her slowly and surely.

Hart floundered beneath her, utterly confused. "But," she mumbled as Ruby's soft mouth moved over hers. "I'm a girl."

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "So am I."

"And that's … okay?"

It hadn't seemed okay, but now that Ruby was smiling down at her, her mouth wet and red, Hart couldn't remember why.

"Yeah," Ruby said again. "It's okay."

They kissed again, leaning into each other's space, pressing close as their mouths moved tentatively together. Ruby's knees pressed tight against Hart's hips, holding her in place, and Hart groaned, letting her mouth fall open.

The flick of Ruby's tongue against her lips sent her pulse racing, and Hart couldn't help but reach out for her, tangling one hand in the wild mass of her curls, just as she had always wanted to.

Ruby leaned into the touch, letting Hart angle her head. With a boldness she hadn't thought she possessed—no matter how many times she got into the ring—Hart licked out, pressing her tongue into the soft heat of Ruby's mouth, stroking behind her teeth. Ruby dropped her weight to her elbows, braced on either side of Hart's head, until all Hart could see or smell or hear was Ruby:  the curtain of her hair falling loose from its band, the tang of her sweat, the soft sounds she made as their lips moved together.

Ruby's chest pressed against her own, unbound this time, the swell of her breasts brushing against Hart's own. She could feel the hard points of Ruby's nipples through the shirt she wore, and felt her own tighten in response. Hart wanted to touch them, to cup the weight in her hands, to feel the soft skin against her own. She wanted to hear the sounds Ruby might make.

She licked frantically into Ruby's maddening mouth, their tongues rubbing wetly together until she was gasping, her body tingling. She wanted to press against Ruby, to rub against her until the fire inside her subsided. She had never done this with another person, but her hips seemed to rock up of their own volition, pressing into the vee of Ruby's thighs, spread over her.

Hart felt her face burn as she realized what she was doing, but Ruby rolled her hips down, meeting Hart's movement in a gentle rhythm that left her short of breath. She could feel herself getting wet, leaking into her underwear, and wondered madly if Ruby was the same. If Hart slid her hand into Ruby's pants, would she find that same slickness that was building between Hart's thighs?

The idea of touching Ruby that way made her blood pound. She wondered if it would feel the same as it did when she guiltily slid her hand between her own thighs, touching her soft, wet folds. Would Ruby gasp at the touch or moan long and low as she rolled her hips into it? Would she let Hart push her fingers inside? Desire made Hart gasp; she wanted to roll Ruby underneath her and rub against her until she came, she wanted to strip her down and stain the mat beneath them with more than just blood and pain.

With that thought Hart drew back, remembering where they were:  in the middle of Leo's training gym where anyone could walk in and see them.

"What?" Ruby gasped, pressing small frantic kisses along the side of Hart's face, her ear, her neck.

"We're in the middle of the
gym
," Hart said, a hysterical giggle bubbling up out of her.

"So?" Ruby mouthed along the sensitive skin of Hart's neck. She opened her lips and sucked and Hart gasped, the sound ringing out through the room.

"Do you want to explain to your father what we're doing?" She brought her hands to Ruby's hips, but couldn't bring herself to push her off. Instead, she tightened her fingers in the soft curve of Ruby's flesh.

Ruby's tongue sneaked out to lap at the salty skin of Hart's neck. "We'll just tell him it's part of the plan."

Hart dropped her head back to the mat, laughing. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll believe that."

"Fine," Ruby huffed, sitting up.

Hart immediately felt bereft at the loss of her lips, the drying saliva on her neck cool in the muggy gym air. The weight of what they had done settled on her chest, heavy and confusing. She wanted to pull Ruby back down before she had a chance to think about it, before she had a chance to panic.

But Ruby rolled off of her, dropping to the mat at her side. Hart took a deep breath, turning her head to meet the girl's eyes.

"So."

To her surprise, Ruby just smiled. "So. Ready to go back to getting your butt kicked?"

"What? Really? We're not going to talk about—?"

Ruby sat up, brushing her knees off. She leaned over Hart, smirking. "Are you having a crisis?" she teased. "Because I thought we already moved past that. Remember? I care about you, you care about me, I'm helping you defraud a major arena, etc."

"But—"

Ruby leaned in, pressing her mouth quickly against Hart's. "I liked that," she whispered. "It seemed like you liked that. I think we should do it again when we're not in the ring. Okay?"

Hart pushed up to her elbows, feeling dazed. Was it really that simple? "Okay," she agreed.

Ruby smiled and climbed to her feet, holding out a hand. "Now come on, we need to make this look good."

Hart let Ruby pull her up, her hand warm around Hart's. She held on for a moment longer than necessary and then dropped her hand. "Okay. Let's fight."

Chapter Fifteen

In the quiet of the changing room, Hart stretched, trying to keep her mind blank. Kella had already come and gone; Hart's hair was artfully spiked, her eyes caked with kohl. She bent and twisted, limbering up for a fake fight. Somewhere in the arena Ruby was doing the same. Nerves twisted Hart's stomach in knots; she wished she had more time to go over the plan.

She and Ruby had spoken the previous night, but agreed that it would be risky to see each other the day of the fight.

Still, Hart wished she could talk to her. Somehow, Ruby always managed to calm her nerves. When Ruby explained the plan, it seemed easy. But now, without Ruby's wry sarcasm in her ear, Hart was convinced that someone was going to break down her door at any moment, to arrest her for defrauding the City.  

When a knock did sound on the door, Hart jumped, clapping a hand over her rabbiting heart.

"Five minutes, sugar," Jackal called.

Hart sucked in a deep breath, shaking out her limbs. Ready or not.

When she cracked open the dressing room door, she could hear the roar of the audience all the way down the hall. It sounded like a full house, and a rowdy one at that. The fight had been heavily promoted, even more than Hart's first time in the girl-on-girl ring. She had seen the posters littering the front of the arena when she arrived. Ruby was being touted as the first opponent with a chance of taking Hart down—a 'born fighter', 'third generation in the ring', 'suckled at the teat of the sport'.

The fact that Ruby was practically raised in the ring had been big news, and Jackal had done everything he could to spread word around.

It sounded like the audience was geared up, ready to finally see Hart take a few knocks. Hart grinned as she paused outside the arena door; if that was what they wanted, she and Ruby were going to give them one hell of a show.

She could hear Jackal's opening routine, greeting the crowd.

"… a big night in the arena. Our undefeated champion, Hart …"

Boos echoed through the arena at her name, and Hart merely let her grin stretch wider. Let them hate her; they didn't know it, but their hatred of her was about to put ten thousand dollars in her pocket.

"… will face the opponent of a lifetime! Raised in her father's gym, fighting from the time she was old enough to walk, serving as practice fodder for the men who went through the Alley rings, and she looks damn good in the fighting outfit to boot!"

Cheers and whistles rang out.

"Ladies and gentlemen, sit back and get ready for the most explosive fight this arena has ever seen. Please welcome our champion, Hart!"

At her cue, Hart burst into the room, trying to put a bit more pep into it for the sake of the performance. She waved a jaunty hand despite the audience's jeers and climbed into the ring.

"And joining her, for her first time in a professional fight, please give a warm welcome to … Ruby!"

Ruby came trotting out from the opposite side of the room and the roar of the spectators grew deafening.

Hart could see why the audience was cheering. She had to hold in a low whistle herself. Ruby wasn't the usual type that Jackal picked up, with her pale skin and fiery hair, but she still looked incredible in the ridiculous outfits he made them wear. The tiny top and even tinier shorts hugged her body in ways Hart had never seen before, making Ruby's stomach look flatter and her breasts look bigger. She was all toned, lean muscle, with subtle curves that Hart wanted to run her hands all over.

And, from the sound of it, so did most of the men in the audience.

Ruby's hair was slicked back—because unlike most of the girls Hart fought, she wasn't a fool, for all this was a fake fight—but her stylist had teased out the tail of her hair and so it poofed around her in a blazing halo.

Hart had never seen Ruby in makeup; her eyes were lined and her lips were painted just like Hart's. Ruby didn't need the cosmetics to look beautiful, but where they made the other girls look trashy, they somehow granted Ruby an Amazonian fierceness. She wore the makeup like it was war paint carrying her into a battle.

She approached Hart and her lips, painted a red to rival her hair, quirked into a tiny, fleeting smile. It was gone in a millisecond, but it was enough to have seen it. Hart took a steadying breath and prepared to fight.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hart could see the audience leaning forward in breathless anticipation, their betting stubs clutched in eager hands.

Jackal ducked out of the ring, signaling the start of the fight. Ruby and Hart dropped easily into their stances and began to circle. Hart narrowed her eyes, trying to give the impression of someone sizing up their opponent for the first time. She let her eyes drift down over Ruby's lean form as if she were looking for weaknesses.

She was lucky she wasn't fighting Ruby for real because there were few imperfections to see.

Her stance was solid, her lines clean and her gaze serious. They circled like they had practiced, and then Ruby made the first move. It was like going through the motions of a complicated dance, Hart supposed—not that she had ever danced. Their movements were so smooth, so practiced, that they didn't feel like a fight. She knew just how Ruby was going to attack and just how she was supposed to defend.

It made the fight beautiful, in a way. Hart wasn't worrying about her next move, or her opponent's next strike, or the potential for injury. Instead, she could watch the way Ruby's body moved through the motions, throwing a punch, blocking a jab, delivering a kick—her muscles bunching and stretching, sweat shining on her skin.

This wasn't just about mindless violence. It was about what the human body was capable of.

Ruby punched and Hart blocked, Hart kicked and Ruby dodged. The audience foamed and frothed with excitement as the fight stretched on, Hart seeming like she was about to pin Ruby, then Ruby suddenly getting the upper hand. 

Hart panted, sweat dripping into her eyes. Ruby narrowed her eyes and sunk low on bent knees. Hart braced herself. Ruby's leg swung out in a graceful arc along the mat. As her foot brushed Hart, Hart turned her ankle, allowing her leg crumple under her. It was a move they had practiced endlessly, making sure it looked like she was really hurt.

From the screams of the audience it had worked. Hart knew she had to concentrate for the rest of fight, to remember that she was supposed to be injured, hobbling her steps and slowing her motions. The first few times they ran through their choreography, Hart had momentarily forgotten, letting her ankle support her whole weight—a miraculous recovery. Tonight, though, she was determined to get it right.

She stumbled back upright and Ruby moved behind her, grabbing Hart in a chokehold. Hart flailed in her grasp, even though Ruby's arms were gentle around her, more like an embrace than an attack. The crowd cheered. Hart even saw Jackal let out an excited yelp.

She wasn't going to miss this one bit.

Leaning back into Ruby's warm body, Hart pretended to struggle. Ruby cinched her arm higher, tight against Hart's throat, holding her in place as she squirmed.

Just like they practiced, Hart leaned back, letting Ruby take most of her weight. Then she kicked out dramatically. She tugged on Ruby's arms as she dropped, body parallel to the floor. If Ruby hadn't been prepared, it would have hurt. As it was, she rolled with the movement, letting Hart flip her through the air.

It looked damn good if the hoots from the audience were any indication.

They struggled on the mat for a moment. Ruby panted like the air had been knocked out of her, squeezing Hart's arm gently to let her know that it hadn't.

Smoothly, Ruby gained the upper hand. She rolled on top of Hart, bracing her knees on either side of Hart's narrow hips. Hart tried not to get distracted by how similar their positions were to their kiss in the ring.

They hadn't found much time over the previous few days for anything more than soft kisses snatched in the changing room or at the door of the arena. Hart didn't want to risk having anyone find out. Not yet, not while it was so new. She couldn't bear to think what the other fighters would say about it, about her. Even Leo, who watched them practice with kind eyes, was a worry. So they brushed their lips together gently when they could, pulling back when they heard a sound from somewhere else in the gym.

Now, though, kissing shouldn't have been on either of their minds. Ruby reared back and swung down to punch at Hart's head. Hart turned so the blow would fall on her skull and neck—somewhere where the lack of bruising wouldn't draw suspicion.