Chapter 243.

The next fight began with a flurry of punches.

Kylie leaned over the railing, shouting encouragement at one of the fighters.

Christian stood beside her, one hand resting against her lower back. He had stopped pretending he understood what was happening.

So instead, he watched her.

She was animated.

She had a way of becoming completely absorbed in the things she loved, as if the rest of the world could wait until she was finished enjoying herself.

He had seen it when she danced. When she argued about a book she loved.

When she explained why a particular outfit was perfect and why anyone who disagreed had no taste.

He had seen it when she was angry, too.

Kylie did not know how to do anything halfway.

She loved loudly, rgued loudly, laughed loudly, and when she cared about something, she gave herself to it with an intensity that made people who preferred quieter women mistake her for someone shallow.

Christian had once made that mistake himself.

She turned to him. "Did you see that?"

"Yes."

"What did you think?"

"Very impressive."

She laughed and returned her attention to the ring.

He leaned down and kissed her hair. She reached up without looking and squeezed his hand.

The gesture was so casual that it caught him off guard.

Christian looked down at their joined hands.

Kylie was laughing when she saw him.

At first, she didn’t understand what she was looking at.

A man stood on the other side of the ring, half-hidden behind a group of spectators. He had a beer bottle in one hand and was laughing at something another man had said.

He was older than she remembered.

Twelve years had passed. Time did what time always did, but she knew him. She knew the shape of his face.

The way he held his head when he laughed. The particular movement of his mouth when he was amused.

She knew him with a certainty that made the room seem to tilt beneath her feet.

Ben.

For a moment, her mind refused to accept it. It couldn’t be. There were millions of people in the world. Thousands of men who looked vaguely alike.

She could be mistaken. She had to be mistaken. But then he turned his head.

The overhead light fell across his face, and he looked directly at her. His smile faded. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he stared.

Kylie stopped breathing.

Her lungs continued to move, but the air seemed to have forgotten how to reach them.

The crowd roared.

Someone shouted near her ear. The bell rang again, but she heard none of it.

She was eight years old. She was standing in front of her father, trying to explain what had happened.

Kylie blinked, and the basement returned.

She felt Christian’s hand at her waist.

She turned toward him for a second. Then, she looked back across the ring again.

Ben was still staring at her. His expression had changed, as recognition settled over his face.

He smiled with suprise and amusement. With the easy familiarity of someone who believed he had every right to approach her.

He said something to the man beside him.

The man glanced at Kylie, then at Ben, and laughed.

Ben lifted his beer.

Kylie felt her fingers go cold.

She took a step backward.

Christian turned toward her immediately. "Blue?"

She couldn’t look at him. Her eyes remained fixed on Ben. "Can we go?"

Christian’s expression changed. "Now?"

She nodded.

He studied her face.

The colour had drained from it.

Her lips were pressed together so tightly. He straightened. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

The answer came too quickly.

She hated herself for saying it.

Christian’s gaze sharpened. "Kylie."

"Please." She sounded barely audible.

He looked at her for another second, then he nodded. "All right. Let’s go."

Relief should have followed, but it didn’t. Ben had started moving. He pushed through the crowd with his beer in hand, smiling as though he were approaching an old friend.

Kylie saw him coming.

Her body went rigid.

Christian followed her gaze. "Do you know him?"

She couldn’t answer.

Ben was close enough now that she could see the details she wished she couldn’t.

The lines beside his eyes, the slight stubble along his jaw, and the beer bottle swinging loosely in his hand.

He stopped beside her.

For a moment, he simply looked at her.

Then he let out a low whistle.

"Well, I’ll be damned."

Kylie stared straight ahead.

Ben laughed. "Twelve years."

His gaze moved over her face, her hair, her clothes. "Look at you."

She couldn’t move.

He nudged her shoulder with the side of his beer bottle.

The glass touched her jacket.

The contact was light, and casual. Almost playful.

Kylie flinched as if he had struck her.

Christian’s arm came away from her waist.

Ben either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice carrying easily over the noise. "All grown up, and hotter than ever."

He laughed at his own remark.

Then he looked at Christian.

"Who’s this?" He asked Kylie.

Christian did not answer.

His attention had shifted entirely to Kylie. She was staring at Ben as though she were watching someone climb out of a grave.

Her face had gone white. Her eyes were wide, but she wasn’t really looking at anything.

Her fingers had curled into the fabric of her jacket.

He stepped closer. "Blue."

She didn’t respond.

Ben chuckled. "What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Kylie swallowed. Her throat hurt. She needed to leave. She needed to get away from him.

She needed to move her feet, turn around, walk toward the stairs, do anything except stand here while he looked at her.

Yet her body had stopped listening.

She hated him. She hated that he could still do this to her without even touching her.

She hated that she had spent years learning how to survive the memories, only to discover that the real man could still make the world disappear around her.

She forced herself to move. She turned away from him. "Excuse me." Her voice barely sounded like hers.

She began walking.

Ben stared after her for a second. He laughed. "Hey."

She kept walking.

"Hey, Kylie."

Her name in his mouth made her stomach twist.

She didn’t stop.

He caught up with her in two steps. His hand closed around her arm. "Don’t walk away from me, Hottie."

Kylie stared at his hand. His fingers were wrapped around her arm, pressing into the skin beneath her jacket.

She could feel the pressure. She could feel the heat of his palm. She could feel the past opening beneath her feet.

"Let go," she whispered.

Ben leaned closer. "What?"

"Let go of me."

He tightened his grip. "Don’t be rude."

A hand struck his forearm hard.

Ben’s grip broke. Before he could turn fully, Christian had stepped between them.

Christian’s elbow had caught Ben’s arm, forcing it away from Kylie.

"Don’t touch her." His voice was low. There was no humour in it.

Ben stumbled half a step, more surprised than hurt.

He looked at Christian, and then he laughed again. "Relax, mate. I know her." He said between his laughs.

Christian didn’t move. "That wasn’t a question."

Ben glanced around them, apparently amused by the attention they were beginning to attract.

Then he looked at Kylie over Christian’s shoulder.

"What’s the matter with you? You used to be friendlier."

Kylie couldn’t speak.

Christian saw her fingers trembling. Something cold moved through him. He had no idea who this man was.

He didn’t know what had happened between them. He didn’t know why Kylie looked as though she had been pulled out of her own body.

But he knew one thing.

The man had touched her after she told him not to. And he was still smiling.

"Walk away," Christian said.

Ben looked him up and down. Then he laughed. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Someone giving you a chance to leave with your teeth intact."

For a moment, Ben looked surprised. Then his expression hardened. "Oh, I get it."

He looked at Kylie again. "Is this your new boyfriend?" He half yelles through the noise.