The Mate He Rejected
I reached up, gently brushing a damp strand of chestnut hair out of her eyes.
She looked up at me, offering a soft, exhausted smile.
"Better?" she whispered, her voice still husky from the screaming.
"Much better," I murmured, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead.
I stepped away, walking over to the bench to retrieve my sweatpants and her torn clothing. I pulled my pants on, tossing her the ripped white tank top and her black leggings. Meghann dressed slowly, her fingers fumbling slightly with the fabric.
I sat down on the edge of the mat, bringing my hands up to unravel the athletic tape wrapped around my knuckles.