Right Hook (Gaslight series) COMPLETE

81| My milkshake be poppin'

Alyssa ♔
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The days following my win are surprisingly calm. I have faint recollections of the referee grabbing my hand, the cheers from the crowd, the lights flashing, and then being guided right into Max's arms, which is where I've been since.

Or I should be. Max had a last-minute delivery shift, so I'm here on a lazy Sunday morning, having breakfast with my mom, who remains blissfully unaware of my recent fight. The onsite medic did a decent job patching me up after the match and provided me with some Arnica, so with the help of makeup, the minor bruises I got during the fight are hardly noticeable.

Part of me still can't believe I won. I figured it was over as I lay on that canvas, gazing at my opponent's steely expression. But one glance at Max, Maddie, and Tiana forced me back up. It wasn't just me I was fighting for; it was them. They believed in me even when I doubted myself–there was no way I was letting them down.

The rest of the morning is spent looking at house listings near Stanford. I thought it would hurt more to imagine us living somewhere else, but the longer we talk about the little cafes nearby or how easy it would be to meet up for a coffee after class, the more I realize it's not about the house but the people inside of it; I wish we'd realized it sooner.

Still, knowing that my time in this house is limited, I decide to make the most of the day. It kicks off with a relaxing bubble bath, proceeds to a brief facial session in the kitchen with my mom, and concludes with me nestled in bed with a book—the first moment of relaxation I've had all week.

I lean against the headrest, barely reaching the end of the next chapter, when my phone buzzes. While I've received plenty of congratulatory messages these past two days, tonight's message, much to my excitement, is from Max.

I have a surprise for you tonight. ;) Meet you at seven?

A wide smile stretches across my face, causing a spasm in the bruise under my chin. After responding with a resounding yes, I toss my book aside and open my closet door, suddenly wishing I'd asked for more details. Usually, surprises lean toward the formal side, hinting at something fancier. But with Max, it could be anything.

Opting for a summery dress suitable for anything but sparring, I head downstairs. The house is quiet, and a brief search leads me to a note from Mom on the kitchen counter explaining she'll be home soon. I crumple the note and toss it in the trash as the doorbell rings.

My heart pounds as if it's our first date. It's strange, realizing nothing is standing in the way of our happiness now: no meddling parents, no Justin, no lingering doubts. Breaking up was incredibly painful, but looking back, it strengthened us. Now, we have to make it through college.

I take a deep breath before opening the door. As it swings open, there Max stands, tall and confident, a beautiful smile lighting up his face. He's wearing a casual shirt with the top button undone, revealing just enough of his neckline to make my stomach flutter, and dark jeans that seem to conform perfectly to his body. He steps forward, his presence filling the doorway with a warmth that instantly makes my heart race.

"You look beautiful," he says, and before I can utter a word, he leans in and kisses me. His hand gently cradles the back of my head, pulling me closer. I respond to his kiss, and whatever I have on my mind fades away. Even though we've practically lived in bed together since the fight, it feels like it's never enough.

I want more.

"Please tell me we aren't sparring tonight," I say as he breaks the kiss and guides me toward the car. "I look too cute to roll around on a mat, and I still feel like I've been hit by a truck."