Full Contact (The New York Nighthawks #15) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Insta-Love, Novella, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
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“Good.” He stole a kiss—just a gentle brush of his lips over mine. “I’m driving you to work today.”

I blinked. “Micah, you barely slept. You need to rest.”

“Nope.” He kissed me again, firmer this time. “I need to take you to work.”

A laugh slipped out of me. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re beautiful in the morning,” he countered.

“Thank you.” He meant every word he said, and I was starting to see myself the way he did. Little by little. “I need a shower before we do anything else. Let’s see how much we can fog up your bathroom.”

He flashed me a wicked grin at my suggestion before sweeping me out of bed and into the bathroom, where we put his tankless water heater to good use by staying in there long enough to get clean after dirtying each other up again.

Two hours after we woke up, Micah’s hand stayed warm and steady at my back as he walked me inside The Tight Line, his presence a quiet anchor while the morning prep buzzed around us. A couple of servers waved, one cook called out a greeting, and I sighed in relief over how normal it all seemed. Until Micah steered me toward the office he and Raiden used. My pulse picked up when he knocked once and pushed the door open.

Raiden was inside, leaning against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed. Tammi sat in the chair next to him and looked up with a smile. “Rylin, come in. Stop looking like you’re headed to the principal’s office. You’re not in trouble.”

Heat crept up my neck as I stepped inside. Micah stayed close, his hand brushing my lower back like he knew I needed the reassurance.

Tammi folded her hands on the desk. “We wanted to talk to you together because this affects your role here.”

My heart hammered. “Okay…”

“We’re promoting you to assistant manager. Effective immediately.”

“I—no.” I shook my head before my brain could catch up. “I can’t. I mean—I appreciate it, but I can’t accept a position I didn’t earn.”

Tammi snorted, flicking a glance at Micah and Raiden. “Do you really think I’d give someone this job just because one of the owners told me to?”

My mouth opened, then closed, since I wasn’t sure what to say. I’d seen her push back against Raiden and Micah myself when she thought they were wrong about something.

Raiden straightened. “You’re already doing the work of three people. Pulling double shifts. Coordinating the baking schedule. People come to you with questions before they come to anyone else when Tammi isn’t available.”

I couldn’t deny that I had done those things. Quietly. Without expecting recognition.

“And sales are up since we added your recipes to the dessert menu. You’re not just great with customers, you’re good for the bottom line too.” Tammi slid a folder across the desk. “You earned this, Rylin. Period.”

My hands shook as I nodded. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll—I won’t let you down.”

“I know.” She stood. “Congratulations.”

She left with a satisfied grin. Raiden followed, clapping me gently on the shoulder as he passed. “Keep up the great work.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Micah and me alone.

He squeezed my hip, leaning in to murmur against my ear, “Told you. You’re a natural.”

“You did.”

I actually believed him, but my newfound confidence was tested much more quickly than I ever could’ve expected. We’d barely made it three steps out of the office when a raised voice carried through the closed door of Tammi’s office.

“…this is blatant favoritism,” Derek snapped. “Everyone sees it. Micah’s sugar-daddying the new hire, rescuing her like some kind of damsel in distress. She’s playing the part really well⁠—”

Micah stopped so abruptly that I almost ran into his back.

My fingers curled instinctively around his arm, and I whispered, “Micah, don’t.”

He didn’t move. Beneath my hand, his muscles had gone rigid with barely contained tension.

Before he could say a single word, Tammi’s voice cut through Derek’s complaints. “That’s enough. Pack your things. You’re done here.”

“What?” Derek sputtered. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious,” Tammi shot back. “You don’t get to spread lies about coworkers, insult management, or drag my business into your bitterness. Clear out your locker and leave.”

Derek stormed out of her office and came to a dead stop when he saw us.

All the color drained from his face. His earlier bluster evaporated in an instant, replaced by something panicked. Micah took one slow step forward.

He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t even need to. “Ever speak her name again, and you’ll regret it. Don’t apologize. Don’t explain. Just leave.”

Derek swallowed hard, nodded once, and muttered something that might’ve been an apology before bolting toward the break room to grab his things.

The silence that followed rang in my ears.

Micah turned to me immediately, his entire posture shifting—concern wiping away every trace of menace. His hands came up gently, cupping my arms like he needed to reassure himself I was still there. “You okay?”


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