She smiled quickly. "Yep."
“And then we start planning for our trip," Aiden grinned.
“I’m sorry. Trip?” I looked at Kira. “What trip?”
Kira was still in her pajamas; an oversized T-shirt and a pair of tights that she must’ve pulled on this morning. Unbeknownst to Aiden, as he squeezed her bicep again while plastering a fake smile on his face, his hand had bunched the sleeve of Kira’s shirt. Pulling it up just enough to reveal a small, yellowing mark above the bend in her elbow.
“Kira and I are going on a little road trip next weekend. I feel like we need to get away from the city for a little while.”
The fire alarm wasn't a mistake, but it also wasn't for anything too dramatic.
An hour after Dean dropped me off at the office, with a fresh bagel in my hand, Kira texted the details of what caused the evacuation. Someone accidentally set fire to their living room curtains after leaving a candle burning too close. The small fire was a mere blip on my list of concerns though. The first was Dean’s upcoming fight. The second was that mark on Kira’s arm. Not pollen from any of her flowering plants, but a bruise. Sure, Kira could be accident-prone sometimes, but she wasn’t a complete klutz.
I made a mental note, as I sat in the office, to figure out a way to bring it up with Kira. Hopefully when she was on her own and only if she was completely comfortable talking about it. It felt ridiculous to even be thinking of it, accusing someone of it. It was a dangerous assumption, and if I got it wrong, Kira might never forgive me for judging her boyfriend so harshly.
But I had seen her smile waver and watched as she flinched. I knew what a bruise looked like when it aged — I was dating a guy whose part-time job included bruising as part of the payroll.
The rain returned, along with a fierce storm that whipped through the streets of Downtown Brooklyn with strong winds. But it was hard to hear the grumble of the thunder over the roar of the crowd as another fight ended. Whoever put out the word that Dean and Murphy were making their long-awaited, month-long reunion, outdid themselves. I had never seen the area around the fight pit so packed. I couldn't even see Kira or Aiden in the crowd.
There were the regular drunk and sleazy gamblers that frequented the basement, but there were also businessmen. High-rolling businessmen in suits, who surrounded themselves with a mini entourage. And were also friends with Antonio.
Antonio introduced those wealthy men to Dean like he was showing off a prized racehorse. All of them planned to place hefty amounts of cash on Romeo to win tonight’s fight.
Dean treated them like any other stranger he met; a curt nod paired with an expression that seemed to have those men second-guessing who was meant to be in charge. It mightn’t have been intentional, but Dean had a knack for silently demanding respect. Usually with one tilt of his head, or a quirk of that eyebrow. This demeanor, the mask he put on, was so different from this morning. Soft, kind-hearted, attentive Dean was still there, but just in small doses and hidden behind a steely glare and honed focus.
He curled his fists after wrapping them in gauze and rolled his shoulders out. Calm and collected, even under the stare of a certain Irishman who hadn't stopped staring since we arrived.
When Dean lifted his elbow, to check how much range his arm had with the bruising on his rib, he hissed in pain.
I cringed for him.
Maybe last night wasn’t such a good idea.
Seb was watching too, his grimace slowly becoming a mischievous smile. “So—”
“Whatever you’re gonna say,” Dean said, closing his locker door as he looked at Seb. “Don’t.”
“Noted,” Seb nodded, pressing his lips together.
I could almost hear his brain working around whatever it was that was on his mind before he opened his mouth again.
“I just wanted to know if you guys had fun last night.”
Dean breathed out heavily. “There it is.”
Seb’s face lit up with a smile as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the lockers. His attention came to me and he wriggled his eyebrows. “I told you he was good with his hands.”
My face heated as I smiled. “I never got to ask how exactly you know about that?”
Dean was subtly gobsmacked as he looked at me. “Why are you encouragin’ this conversation?”
I shrugged. “Curious.”
He shook his head in disbelief.
“I told you, I’m a good wingman. Plus, the girls who visited The Den used to love talking about their many adventures with Romeo.” Seb batted his lashes at Dean for extra effect.
“I will hit you.”
