Savannah smiles wryly. “Can I get t

Savannah smiles wryly. “Can I get that in writing?”
My teeth catch my bottom lip in a wide grin. “I think that can be arranged.”
Her gaze lingers on me for a moment before she opens the fridge. “What do you want for dinner?”
I cross the two steps to the fridge and place my palm on the cold stainless steel, closing it. “Actually, I was thinking we could order in. It wouldn’t be much of a date if I made you cook for me. I mean, guys are supposed to pay for dinner, right?” Seeing as how I’ve never actually been on a date, I have no freaking clue. But it seems legit.
Her eyes widen as she splutters, “You want to do that now?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Because I haven’t even showered today—”
“Go. Take a shower.” I couldn’t care less if she actually does or not. She could roll around in the mud and I’d still be on her like a fat kid on cake. I’m not going to let something as trivial as a shower get in the way of this. “I’ll order us something. Chinese okay?”
She nibbles her lip for what seems like forever before she finally nods. “Sweet and sour chicken for me, please.”
I watch her walk down the hallway, toward the bathroom, as she takes the rubber band out of her hair and shakes out her long waves. The act itself is innocent enough, but pair that with the super-short shorts she has on and all I see is perfect, creamy skin for miles and golden-brown waves I want to get lost in. Never in my life have I wanted someone so much and I know when it finally does happen, it’ll be explosive. 
How could it not be with a firecracker like that?
 
Thirty minutes later, I kick the front door shut and pause with the giant brown paper bag in my arms, seeing Savannah stand at the end of the hallway. Her damp hair’s back in a low ponytail and draped over her shoulder. She fiddles with the ends, looking . . . nervous.
“I didn’t know what to wear,” she says, glancing down at her black and white baseball shirt and those cotton sleep shorts I like so much.
I can’t take my eyes off the sliver of skin peeking out from the slightly-too-short shirt and slightly-too-low shorts. It’s a dangerous combination. 
Feeling the blood leave my brain and head south, I clear my throat and look back up at her. “You look beautiful.” I walk over to the table in the dining nook before I do something to really embarrass myself, like pop a chubby.
Savannah comes to stand next to me, helping me pull containers out of the bag. That fresh-from-the-shower smell is all I seem to notice, and it takes everything in me not to just grab her, sling her over my shoulder, and carry her back to my room like some kind of caveman. That fruity, strawberry-laced shit is wreaking havoc on my brain.
I shake my head, amazed at how bad I have it for this girl when I haven’t even seen her naked yet. 
“Everything okay?”
I glance at Savannah, seeing her frown at me, and say, “I don’t know yet, Kitten. I’ll have to get back to you.”
At her confused look, I pull out my chair, sighing as I sit down. “You’ve got me so wrapped up, I don’t know which way is up anymore.”
She grins and sits across from me, opening her Styrofoam box and grabbing a set of plastic utensils from the middle of the table. “Is that why you’re doing this whole date thing? ’Cause you’re not thinking clearly?”
I shrug and yank the last fork from the center of the table. “I don’t really know why I’m doing this, and I have no idea how it’s going to turn out. It could either be the greatest thing to ever happen to me, or the biggest mistake of my life.”
She scoffs, leaning back in her chair as she pops a piece of chicken into her mouth. As she chews, she smiles sardonically. “Gee, thanks.”
One shoulder lifts in a lazy shrug. “Well, it’s true. I don’t know how this is gonna play out. All I know is that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t find out.”
She shakes her head, looking at me in awe. “Wow.” Leaning in, she rests her arms on the table, like she’s about to share a secret. “Are you always this good at getting into a girl’s panties, or is it just me?”
I smile ruefully, watching the way her face lights up as she laughs. “You’ve still got yours on, so I can’t be that good.”
Perfect white teeth flash as she bites her bottom lip, her mouth curving into a wicked grin. “Who says I’m wearing any?”
I nearly fall out of my chair as I groan and hang my head. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”
“All right, all right, I’ll stop.” She holds up her hands in defeat and then grabs a spring roll.
Therein lies the problem. I don’t want her to stop; I want her to keep going.
“So what’s your story, Declan Whitmore?”
At my cocked brow, she says, “You got mine. Now it’s time I get yours.”
She’s right. Tit for tat is only fair.
Sighing, I tear off the plastic wrap from my fork. “My old man’s a drunk. Left us when I was twelve, then two years later my mom died in a car accident. Me and Blake were raised by our grandparents after that.”
Savannah bites into the spring roll and frowns at me. “That’s it?”
“Essentially.”
She covers her mouth with the back of her hand, saying, “Essentially?” around a mouthful of food. Swallowing, she sets the spring roll down, looking pissed as she crosses her arms. “Well now I feel gipped. I got into the nitty gritty of my life. Least you could do is the same.”
“You only told me the worst things ’cause you thought it’d scare me off.”
A cruel smirk twists her lips. “I didn’t tell you the worst things, not by a long shot.”
My eyes narrow on her. She better be full of shit, because what she told me was fucking awful. Could it really have been worse than she let on?
The thought doesn’t sit well with me, and has my jaw clenching as I point at her. “Don’t think for a second that I’m gonna let that little comment slide, Kitten. We’re coming back to that later.” 
Savannah does not look pleased.
Exhaling slowly, I set my fork down and lean my elbows on the table. “My dad’s a miserable sack of shit, and after my mom died, I kind of . . . lost it. She was the only parent I loved, the only true parent I had, and when she died, what little light I had in my life died with her, until it was just one big black void. 
“I started acting out, getting into fights, trouble with the law. . . Girls, booze, drugs, misdemeanors—you name it, I did it. Blake was the same way. 
“The only thing that stopped me from going completely off the rails was my pops. He was a boxer back in the Sixties. Third-generation Irish American, Catholic, and the toughest son of a bitch I’ve ever met. He taught me to channel all my rage and hate into fighting in a ring instead of out on the streets.” I shrug and simply say, “He saved my life.”
“Did he get you into underground fighting?”
“No, I have Blake to thank for that. He came to me with a problem, like he usually does. Said he owed this guy money he didn’t have, but he knew of a way we could make a lot of cash really fast. Turned out that ‘way’ was The Pit. 
“Blake thought I could take down any asshole they threw at me. Kept telling me I was a sure thing. Only problem was, back then, I was this no-name punk kid off the street, and if we wanted to make any money off the fight, we had to bet money on me to win. Then, of course, I actually had to win. The only thing of value I had to my name at the time was my car, so that’s what I bet.” I shake my head, half-smiling at the memory. “I was so pissed. I love that car, but I love Blake too, and I didn’t want to see him get his kneecaps broken, so. . .”
“I take it you won that fight, since you still have your car and Blake still has his kneecaps.”
I nod slowly. “That fight and every one since.”
“You’re undefeated?” Her eyes widen. “Wow. How do you get people to bet against you? I mean, they have to, right? Otherwise you’d be bad for business.”
My mouth turns down as I shrug. “You give ’em a good show. Let the other guy get some good shots in. Make everyone think he’s winning. Then when he gets comfortable—when he least expects it—you come out swinging and take his sorry ass down.” 
“You let them kick your ass before you hand them theirs? That seems . . . dangerous. What if you can’t come back in the second act?”
“Hasn’t happened yet.”
Savannah eyes me for a second, like she doesn’t quite believe me. Then she pops another piece of chicken into her mouth. “So how long have you been fighting in The Pit?”
I love that she’s not afraid to talk with her mouth full. And that she’s sitting cross-legged in my dining room chair, in her pajamas, without a scrap of makeup on.
She’s not afraid to be herself around me, and she’s not intimidated by me in the slightest. It’s refreshing. I’m so tired of girls who think they have to look and act sexy all the time. That’s not sexy. Being comfortable in your own skin is sexy.
True confidence is fucking hot as hell.
I’m trying my damndest not to outright stare at her, but it’s hard. She’s so much more interesting than my food. “Uh, about a year,” I say, trying to get the conversation back on track. “When my pops died, he left me the gym. I’m using my winnings to fix it up.”
“Do you like fighting? Or is it just something you have to do for the money?”
I pick at my dinner while wondering how much to tell her. Then I realize how hypocritical that is. I can’t filter the bad shit out and expect her to be completely honest with me. Truth is a two-way street. 
Sighing, I say, “I need to fight like I need to breathe, Savannah. It’s more than making money to me. Even after ten years, I’ve still got so much ugliness inside me, it’s like . . . this is my way of detoxing.”
She snorts. “My way of detoxing never seems to work. I always end up feeling dirtier than before.”
My eyes narrow on her. “Do I want to know what way that is?”
“Probably not,” she mumbles, looking down at her plate.
I could take a wild guess, and I’d bet my left nut it’d be right.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Savannah tersenyum kilatan. "Saya bisa yang tertulis?"Gigi saya menangkap bibir bawah senyum lebar. "Saya pikir yang dapat diatur."Pandangan matanya tetap hidup saya untuk beberapa saat sebelum ia membuka lemari es. "Apa yang Anda inginkan untuk makan malam?"Aku menyeberang dua langkah ke kulkas dan tempat genggaman saya di stainless steel dingin, menutupnya. "Sebenarnya, aku berpikir kita bisa memesan dalam. Itu tidak akan banyak tanggal jika saya membuat Anda memasak untuk saya. Maksudku, orang-orang yang seharusnya untuk membayar untuk makan malam, benar?" Melihat bagaimana aku tidak pernah benar-benar sudah berkencan, saya tidak memiliki freaking petunjuk. Tapi tampaknya legit.Matanya melebar sebagai splutters dia, "Anda ingin melakukannya sekarang?""Yakin, mengapa tidak?""Karena aku bahkan belum mandi hari —""Pergi. Mengambil mandi." Saya tidak peduli jika dia benar-benar atau tidak. Dia bisa berguling-guling di Lumpur dan saya akan tetap berada pada dia seperti anak-anak lemak pada kue. Aku tidak akan membiarkan sesuatu sebagai sepele seperti mandi mendapatkan di jalan ini. "Aku akan memesan kita sesuatu. Cina Oke?"Dia camilan bibir untuk apa yang tampak seperti selamanya sebelum dia akhirnya mengangguk. "Manis dan asam ayam untuk saya, silakan."Aku menonton dia berjalan menyusuri lorong, menuju kamar mandi, ketika ia mengambil karet gelang dari rambutnya dan getar keluar gelombang panjang nya. Undang-undang itu sendiri adalah cukup polos, tapi pasangan bahwa dengan celana pendek super-pendek yang dia punya pada dan semua saya lihat adalah sempurna, krim kulit untuk mil dan coklat keemasan gelombang saya ingin tersesat di. Tidak pernah dalam hidupku aku ingin seseorang yang begitu banyak dan saya tahu kapan itu akhirnya terjadi, itu akan menjadi bahan peledak. Bagaimana tidak mungkin dengan petasan seperti itu? Tiga puluh menit kemudian, aku menendang menutup pintu depan dan jeda dengan kantong kertas coklat raksasa dalam pelukanku, melihat Savannah berdiri di ujung lorong. Rambutnya lembab kembali di ekor kuda rendah dan tersampir bahunya. Dia biola dengan ujung, mencari... gugup."Aku tidak tahu apa yang harus dipakai," katanya, melirik ke bawah kemeja hitam dan putih bisbol dan tidur kapas celana pendek aku suka begitu banyak.Aku tidak bisa mengambil mataku dari sepotong kulit mengintip keluar dari sedikit-terlalu-pendek kemeja dan celana pendek sedikit terlalu-rendah. Ini adalah kombinasi yang berbahaya. Saya merasa darah meninggalkan saya otak dan menuju Selatan, Bersihkan tenggorokan saya dan mencari kembali padanya. "Kau tampak cantik." Aku berjalan tabel di sudut makan sebelum aku melakukan sesuatu yang benar-benar mempermalukan diriku sendiri, seperti pop gemuk.Savannah datang untuk berdiri di samping saya, membantu saya tarik wadah keluar dari tas. Yang berbau segar-dari-the-mandi adalah semua aku bisa melihat, dan dibutuhkan segala sesuatu dalam diriku untuk tidak hanya mengambil dia, sling dia bahu saya dan membawa kembali ke kamarku seperti semacam gua. Buah-buahan, stroberi-laced omong kosong ini mendatangkan malapetaka pada otak saya.Aku menggelengkan kepala, kagum pada seberapa buruk saya memilikinya untuk gadis ini ketika saya belum pernah melihat dia telanjang belum. "Semua baik-baik saja?"Aku melirik Savannah, melihat dia cemberut pada saya, dan mengatakan, "saya tidak tahu lagi, anak kucing. Aku harus kembali kepada Anda."Di tampak bingung, saya menarik keluar kursi saya, mendesah seperti saya duduk. "Anda telah membuat saya sangat sibuk, saya tidak tahu arah mana terserah lagi."Dia grins dan duduk di depan saya, membuka kotak Styrofoam nya dan meraih satu set peralatan plastik dari tengah-tengah meja. ' Adalah bahwa mengapa Anda melakukan hal seluruh tanggal ini? ' Penyebab Anda tidak berpikir jelas?"Aku mengangkat bahu dan menarik garpu terakhir dari pusat tabel. "Saya benar-benar tidak tahu mengapa aku melakukan ini, dan aku tidak tahu bagaimana itu akan berubah. Itu baik bisa menjadi hal terbesar yang pernah terjadi kepada saya, atau kesalahan terbesar dalam hidup saya."Dia scoffs, bersandar kembali di kursinya ketika dia muncul sepotong ayam ke dalam mulutnya. Seperti dia mengunyah, Dia tersenyum sardonically. "Wah, terima kasih."Satu bahu mengangkat dalam mengangkat bahu malas. "Yah, memang benar. Aku tidak tahu bagaimana ini akan bermain keluar. Semua saya tahu adalah bahwa saya akan menyesal selama sisa hidup saya jika saya tidak menemukan."Ia menggeleng, memandang saya kagum. "Wow." Bersandar di, ia bersandar tangannya di atas meja, seperti dia akan berbagi rahasia. "Apakah Anda selalu ini baik untuk masuk ke celana dalam gadis itu, atau apakah itu hanya aku?"Aku tersenyum ruefully, mengamati cara wajahnya menyala ketika dia tertawa. "Anda masih punya Anda, jadi aku tidak bisa baik."Gigi putih sempurna flash seperti dia gigitan bibir bawah, mulutnya melengkung ke seringai jahat. "Siapa bilang aku mengenakan ada?"I nearly fall out of my chair as I groan and hang my head. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”“All right, all right, I’ll stop.” She holds up her hands in defeat and then grabs a spring roll.Therein lies the problem. I don’t want her to stop; I want her to keep going.“So what’s your story, Declan Whitmore?”At my cocked brow, she says, “You got mine. Now it’s time I get yours.”She’s right. Tit for tat is only fair.Sighing, I tear off the plastic wrap from my fork. “My old man’s a drunk. Left us when I was twelve, then two years later my mom died in a car accident. Me and Blake were raised by our grandparents after that.”Savannah bites into the spring roll and frowns at me. “That’s it?”“Essentially.”She covers her mouth with the back of her hand, saying, “Essentially?” around a mouthful of food. Swallowing, she sets the spring roll down, looking pissed as she crosses her arms. “Well now I feel gipped. I got into the nitty gritty of my life. Least you could do is the same.”“You only told me the worst things ’cause you thought it’d scare me off.”A cruel smirk twists her lips. “I didn’t tell you the worst things, not by a long shot.”My eyes narrow on her. She better be full of shit, because what she told me was fucking awful. Could it really have been worse than she let on?The thought doesn’t sit well with me, and has my jaw clenching as I point at her. “Don’t think for a second that I’m gonna let that little comment slide, Kitten. We’re coming back to that later.” Savannah does not look pleased.Exhaling slowly, I set my fork down and lean my elbows on the table. “My dad’s a miserable sack of shit, and after my mom died, I kind of . . . lost it. She was the only parent I loved, the only true parent I had, and when she died, what little light I had in my life died with her, until it was just one big black void. “I started acting out, getting into fights, trouble with the law. . . Girls, booze, drugs, misdemeanors—you name it, I did it. Blake was the same way. “The only thing that stopped me from going completely off the rails was my pops. He was a boxer back in the Sixties. Third-generation Irish American, Catholic, and the toughest son of a bitch I’ve ever met. He taught me to channel all my rage and hate into fighting in a ring instead of out on the streets.” I shrug and simply say, “He saved my life.”“Did he get you into underground fighting?”“No, I have Blake to thank for that. He came to me with a problem, like he usually does. Said he owed this guy money he didn’t have, but he knew of a way we could make a lot of cash really fast. Turned out that ‘way’ was The Pit. “Blake thought I could take down any asshole they threw at me. Kept telling me I was a sure thing. Only problem was, back then, I was this no-name punk kid off the street, and if we wanted to make any money off the fight, we had to bet money on me to win. Then, of course, I actually had to win. The only thing of value I had to my name at the time was my car, so that’s what I bet.” I shake my head, half-smiling at the memory. “I was so pissed. I love that car, but I love Blake too, and I didn’t want to see him get his kneecaps broken, so. . .”“I take it you won that fight, since you still have your car and Blake still has his kneecaps.”I nod slowly. “That fight and every one since.”“You’re undefeated?” Her eyes widen. “Wow. How do you get people to bet against you? I mean, they have to, right? Otherwise you’d be bad for business.”My mouth turns down as I shrug. “You give ’em a good show. Let the other guy get some good shots in. Make everyone think he’s winning. Then when he gets comfortable—when he least expects it—you come out swinging and take his sorry ass down.” “You let them kick your ass before you hand them theirs? That seems . . . dangerous. What if you can’t come back in the second act?”“Hasn’t happened yet.”Savannah eyes me for a second, like she doesn’t quite believe me. Then she pops another piece of chicken into her mouth. “So how long have you been fighting in The Pit?”I love that she’s not afraid to talk with her mouth full. And that she’s sitting cross-legged in my dining room chair, in her pajamas, without a scrap of makeup on.
She’s not afraid to be herself around me, and she’s not intimidated by me in the slightest. It’s refreshing. I’m so tired of girls who think they have to look and act sexy all the time. That’s not sexy. Being comfortable in your own skin is sexy.
True confidence is fucking hot as hell.
I’m trying my damndest not to outright stare at her, but it’s hard. She’s so much more interesting than my food. “Uh, about a year,” I say, trying to get the conversation back on track. “When my pops died, he left me the gym. I’m using my winnings to fix it up.”
“Do you like fighting? Or is it just something you have to do for the money?”
I pick at my dinner while wondering how much to tell her. Then I realize how hypocritical that is. I can’t filter the bad shit out and expect her to be completely honest with me. Truth is a two-way street. 
Sighing, I say, “I need to fight like I need to breathe, Savannah. It’s more than making money to me. Even after ten years, I’ve still got so much ugliness inside me, it’s like . . . this is my way of detoxing.”
She snorts. “My way of detoxing never seems to work. I always end up feeling dirtier than before.”
My eyes narrow on her. “Do I want to know what way that is?”
“Probably not,” she mumbles, looking down at her plate.
I could take a wild guess, and I’d bet my left nut it’d be right.