Alana novel Chapter 22

A Warm Batch Of Bald Cookies

***

Alana's POV

Do you ever notice that when a man wants you he knows how to say the right words?

The right lies and the right smiles.

It's after something tragic that you really put your walls up.

And you promise your heart that you'll never put it through that pain again.

It's Saturday and I'm officially off today.

Slipping on my camouflage jumper, I only slide on a Nike sports bra under it leaving the left side hanging.

My bare feet padded through the house and I admired the yellow-themed haven. Walking into the kitchen, I call my chubby bulldog, Lion.

"Here boy," I call out and he comes running.

"Gosh, I need to put you on a diet." I joke struggling to pick up. He whines as if he understood what I'm saying and I giggle.

"I'm only kidding, ready for breakfast?" He barks scratching to get down and he runs to his bowl.

I'm telling you this dog understands what I'm saying.

I pour him some dog food and he greedily eats. Throwing some onto the ground, I know he would clean it with his mouth late anyway

"I'll make something later," I tell him.

Yes...I cook for my dog. What can I say? He's spoilt.

I put on my combat boots and head over to my garage locking my front door. Opening it up, I choose my bike instead of the cars because of where I'm going.

But you know, it all works out.

"Alana!" Someone yells and I turn to find George, one of my favorite bodyguards and the owner. I grin as he approaches me and pulls me into a hug.

"Hey, George." I greet breathing in his scent. He smelled nothing like here. He was just a huge batch of warm cookies. Which was quite confusing because of his status. He was 6'4 with shoulders so wide a wall couldn't compete with it. His muscles were bulging and he was ...bald.

But still, he smiled down at me so warmly.

"You fighting today princess?"  He smiled but I don't miss the disapproving look that stood behind it.

"Yea, I think so. Sign my name for me yea?" I choose to ignore it and he sighs.

"Alright." He nods patting my back and I move towards the crowd where they all scream for their preferred fighter and I carefully analyze the fighters.

The one on the right uses his muscles. Depending solely on his strength which is honestly why he's losing. But the one on the right is smart. He uses his brain, blocking and predicting his opponent's next move.

He was the one I was going to fight and I couldn't get over how fun this was going to be.