Riley was still reeling from the night before.
It hit her in small, unexpected moments, while brushing her teeth, while tying her hair back, while staring at the blank screen of her TV. Every so often, the memory would surface uninvited: blue eyes, warm hands on her face, the shock of a kiss she hadn't seen coming.
She let out a quiet laugh.
The girl had been a disaster. A beautiful, affectionate, wildly intoxicated disaster. Riley was almost certain she didn't remember any of it, and somehow, that made the whole thing funnier and a little disappointing at the same time.
Riley finished her morning workout on autopilot, muscles aching in that familiar, comforting way.
Routine had always been her anchor. Train. Fight. Recover. Repeat. But today, even that felt… muted.
By the time she sat down on her couch, controller in hand, ready to lose herself in a few mindless rounds of Call of Duty, her phone rang.
"Riley!" Blake's voice boomed through the speaker. "You ditched me last night. What happened to bro code?"
Riley smirked. "I didn't think you needed an audience. Are you some kind of pervert?"
"Hurtful," Blake said. "Also, I saw you leave with two hot babes. Did you finally loosen up?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, asshole. I didn't bang strangers. I dropped them off and came home."
"Uh-huh," Blake said smugly. "That's what people who totally got laid say."
Riley snorted. "You're disgusting."
"So," Blake continued, unfazed. "Donnie wants to hang out later. Says we should catch up."
Riley leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling of her penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, all steel and light and ambition. She'd worked her entire adult life for this view. For everything she had.
"I was planning on doing absolutely nothing," she said.
"Too bad," Blake replied. "We're coming over. Order food. Order drinks. I know your antisocial ass is just gaming."
The line went dead.
Riley sighed, but a small smile tugged at her lips. Her friends were annoying, relentless, and entirely hers. She wouldn't trade them for anything.
When Blake and Donnie arrived later, the apartment filled with noise and laughter. They talked about fights, business, stupid memories from their early days. Eventually, Riley found herself telling them about the club, about the kiss, the blackout chaos, the mystery girl.
They lost it.
"She kissed you?" Blake howled. "Out of nowhere?"
"And called you wifey?" Donnie wheezed, clutching his side.
Riley shook her head, embarrassed despite herself. "She was drunk."
"She has taste," Blake declared.
Riley cleared her throat. "There's something else."
The room quieted.
"I'm done," Riley said. "With MMA."
Both men stared at her.
"I'm relinquishing the belt tomorrow."
The words felt strange out loud. Final. Terrifying. Liberating.
Donnie frowned. "Are you sure? You loved it."
Riley hesitated. Loved was a strong word. Fighting had been everything, until it wasn't. Somewhere along the way, it had become obligation instead of passion. Noise instead of purpose.
"I've held the championship for five years," she said quietly. "There's nothing left for me there. I don't feel it anymore."
Blake studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Then you're done. And whatever you do next, we've got you."
The tension eased.
"I want to open a gym," Riley added. "Something real where everyone can find a place to belong. Something that lasts."
Donnie grinned. "And I'm opening another club location. Guess we're all leveling up."
Blake jumped to his feet. "Perfect. I'll invest in both of you. We're gonna make stupid money."
They drank to that.
Later, Donnie smirked. "So… did you give that pretty girl your number?"
Riley choked on her drink.
Her face burned as laughter erupted around her.
"Shut up," she muttered, mortified.
But her mind betrayed her, drifting back to blue eyes and an unsteady smile.
Ruby wanted to crawl into a hole and seal it shut forever.
The memories came back in horrifying flashes. throwing herself at Riley Scott, calling her wifey, begging her to marry her, and then… throwing up. On herself.
Ruby groaned and pressed her face into her pillow.
She hadn't told Sophie yet. She couldn't. Sophie would never let her survive it.
She reached for her phone, and instead found a folded piece of paper on her nightstand.
Her heart stuttered.
Good morning, cutie.
You gave me a lot of trouble last night.
You should take responsibility for taking my first kiss.
A phone number.
Riley S.
Ruby stared at it, frozen. Then the words registered.
She screamed.
She jumped on her bed like a lunatic, clutching the note to her chest. Sophie burst into the room, alarmed, until Ruby shoved the paper in her face.
"Oh my god," Sophie breathed. "You absolute menace."
Ruby laughed and cried at the same time. For a few perfect seconds, the embarrassment disappeared, replaced by dizzy, impossible hope.
Later, over coffee, Sophie leaned forward. "So… are you calling her?"
"Obviously," Ruby said. "She's my wife. I just need to apologize first."
"That first impression is unforgettable," Sophie snorted. "You puked on yourself."
Ruby groaned and dropped her forehead onto the table.
By evening, nerves gnawed at her. She stared at the note, pacing her apartment. Calling felt too terrifying. Texting was safer.
Ruby: Hey. I'm really sorry for causing trouble last night. I hope you'll let me apologize.
The reply came quickly.
Riley: Oh! The drunk cutie. You were a handful.
Ruby's face burned.
Ruby: I'm so sorry. Can I make it up to you? Coffee tomorrow?
A pause.
Riley: Are you sure I won't have to carry you home again?
Ruby: Kill me now.
Riley: Coffee sounds good. I'll call you in the morning.
Ruby stared at the screen, grinning like an idiot.
She had a date with Riley Scott.
Riley stared at her phone, heart beating faster than it had in the cage.
She smiled.
Then frowned.
"…I don't even know her name."