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didn’t get far before one of the boys asked him about his cut. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by wide eyes and ripe curiosity. Because it was a good opportunity to show the boys how to handle disappointment, he lingered, letting them ask one question after another.
    Harper didn’t complain. If anything, she watched him with something that looked a lot like pride. Not exactly what he wanted from her at this particular moment, but it felt good all the same.
    He didn’t realize she’d gone about getting the drinks without him until Armie relieved her of two large cartons of soft drinks. Together they began putting the cans in the cooler over ice. They laughed together, and even though it looked innocent enough, it made Gage tense with—
    “You two hooking up finally?”
    Thoughts disrupted, Gage turned to Denver. Hard to believe he hadn’t noticed the approach of a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound man. “What?”
    “You and Harper,” Denver said, while perusing the food that remained. “Finally going to make it official?”
    “Make what official?”
    “That you’re an item.” Denver chose half a cold cut sandwich and devoured the majority of it in one bite.
    Gage’s gaze sought Harper out again. Whatever Armie said to her got him a shove in return. Armie pulled an exaggerated fighter’s stance, fists up, as if he thought he’d have to defend himself.
    Harper pretended a low shot, Armie dropped his hands to cover the family jewels, and she smacked him on top of the head.
    The way the two of them carried on, almost like siblings, made Gage feel left out.
    Were he and Harper an item? He knew how he felt, but Harper could be such a mystery.
    Denver shouldered him to the side so he could grab some cake. “Gotta say, man, I hope so. She was so glum while you were away, it depressed the hell out of everyone.”
    Hard to imagine a woman as vibrant as Harper ever down in the dumps. When he’d left for the camp in Kentucky, she’d understood, wishing him luck, telling him how thrilled she was for him.
    But since his return a few days ago, things had been off. He hadn’t immediately sought her out, determined to get his head together first. He didn’t want pity from anyone, but the way he’d felt had been pretty damned pitiful. He’d waffled between rage at the circumstances and mind-numbing regret. No way did he want others to suffer him like that, most especially Harper.
    He knew he’d see her at the rec center and had half expected her to gush over him, to fret over his injury, to sympathize.
    She hadn’t done any of that. Mostly she’d treated him the same as she did the rest of the guys, leaving him confused and wallowing in his own misery.
    Until tonight.
    Tonight she was all about making him insane with the need to get her alone and naked.
    “You listening to me, Gage?”
    Rarely did another fighter call him by his given name. That Denver did so now almost felt like a reprimand from his mom. “Yeah, Denver, I’m listening.”
    “Good.” Denver folded massive arms over his massive chest, puffing up like a turkey. “So what’s it to be?”
    If Denver expected a challenge, too bad. Gage again sought out Harper with his gaze. “She was really miserable?”
    Denver deflated enough to slap him on the back. “Yeah. It was awful. Made me sad as shit, I don’t mind telling you.”
    “What was she miserable about?”
    “Dude, are you that fucking obtuse?”
    Stack stepped into the conversation. “Hell, yeah, he is.” Then changing the subject, Stack asked, “Did Rissy go to Japan with Cannon?”
    Denver answered, saying, “Yeah, he took her and her roommate along.”
    Merissa, better known as Rissy, was Cannon’s little sis. A roommate was news to Gage, though. “If you have ideas about his sister, you’re an idiot.”
    Stack drew back. “No. Hell, no. Damn man, don’t start rumors.”
    Everyone knew Cannon as a nice guy. More than nice. But he was crazy-particular when it came to Merissa.