“Yeah, please, Rowen!” Lor said, almost at the top of his lungs. They kept going, and even I winced, but eventually Rowen groaned.
“Fine! But only if ye shut yer gobs. I swear, no one would believe me if I told ’em how ye act.” He tickled his fingers along the side of Fallon’s neck until he yelped and moved away, and Lor laughed harder.
“Fine, I’ll get ready, and we can stop at a sporting goods store. They usually carry that stuff.” There was a general round of agreement, and by the time I got cleaned up and downstairs, Rowen was looking with concern at the pile of my skates and helmet and Fallon’s gear next to mine by the door. Fallon and Lor must have found everything.
The front door was open, and Lor was talking to someone on his phone, and as I got down the steps I was surprised to hear him say, “Yes, Conall. I’ll probably be home by nine,” before he hung up.
“You’re still staying at the mansion, then?” Rowen asked.
Lor’s cheeks pinked up and he fidgeted, touching a finger to the piercing on his nose. “Uh, you know, they have so many rooms, and I’ve been working out here with Dr. Mifflin. They’ve been giving me a driver to get into the city for school.... I don’t know, when Mr. Killough told me I was going to stay there for a while I didn’t argue with it. And Conall checks up on me.” He shrugged and smiled. “It’s been nice having people care if I’m alive or dead.”
“Doesn’t your mother wonder where you are?” I asked.
His face fell and he cleared his throat. “Ah, let’s get going?”
Rowen gave me a hard look, and I wasn’t certain what it was about, but he grabbed my hand and planted a kiss on my knuckles. “We’re ready, angel. Why do ye have a helmet?”
“It’s safer,” I said, gathering my things. “Oh, you don’t have a helmet, Fallon?”
Fallon picked up his Rollerblades and started laughing, then cleared his throat and covered his mouth with his hand. When he lowered his palm he was sober as a judge. “Uh, I’ve never really thought it was that important. I don’t fall.”
“But what if you did?” I shook my head at him, and he wrinkled his nose as if he wanted to argue with me. “Can we buy you one since we’re getting Rowen stuff?”
He winced. “Really?”
“Yes, it’s important. You wouldn’t go into the ring without the right equipment, why would you do that here?”
Lor snickered and pointed at Fallon, and I was surprised when he started cracking up. It rarely happened, but today I felt like the oldest person in the room.
“Do you have one?” I asked Lor.
All at once he stopped and looked at me, brown eyes wide. “No. It’s... uh....”
“They’re safety equipment, so we’re buying three helmets, and skates for Rowen.”
There were groans, but by the time we got to Rowen’s Lexus everyone was back to joking and laughing. It didn’t take us long to stop and pick up everything for Rowen, and even that was fun because we all argued over what color skates he should buy, but he put his foot down and got a pair of green ones. Having Lor around made things feel closer to normal, and I wasn’t certain when I’d gotten used to going nearly everywhere in a big group, but that was my normal now. We were never lonely in our house because there were too many of us for that to happen, and I liked it that way.
Once we arrived at the outdoor skate park and claimed a bench for our things, Fallon got down and laced up Rowen’s skates on his feet. I thought it was sweet that Fallon went to the trouble, especially since Rowen kept glancing at the few other people out. The park itself wasn’t the most elaborate one I’d ever seen—there was a simple looped path for skaters that might’ve been a quarter of a mile, and next to it on the inside was a curvier path with a few obstacles. In the center of the park there was a scooped-out bowl, and one skateboarder was practicing in there, going from side to side, but not doing any tricks. There was other equipment I wasn’t familiar with for the skateboards as well, and maybe I would ask Lor to show me what it was all for later.
“I thought I’d do skates since everyone else is,” Lor said cheerfully as he finished tying his up. He sighed when I handed him his new black helmet—no one would let me pick out any other color—and dutifully put it on. “Thank you, Dr. Mifflin.” He grumbled, and I had to laugh. It was the first time in recent memory he’d ever sounded his age.
Fallon pointed at him, and Lor stood up, grabbed one of the other black derby helmets we’d bought, and took it over to plop it onto Fallon’s blond curls.
“I, for one, think this is an excellent idea.” Rowen picked up the last helmet and quickly strapped it on. “I just wish I had one for me arse.”
Lor and Fallon hooted with laughter, and I rubbed Rowen’s firm shoulder, squeezing it.
“This isn’t me date night, either.” A small furrow formed between his brows and I got stuck staring at his bright grayish-blue eyes. “I want one where I’m not risking me neck.”
“You complain less when people are shooting at you,” Fallon said quietly, wicked grin firmly in place.
My cheeks heated when Rowen gave him a flirty wink. Fallon’s breath caught.
“It’s safer, isn’t it? Only one bullet to dodge. I got the whole ground to contend with now.”
Lor skated around near us, showing off by going backward in a figure eight. Rowen made impressed sounds, but Fallon hopped up and took off after Lor, doing the exact same thing he had. That started a competition on the skate path—Lor would do a trick and then Fallon would follow him, trying to do it better.
“That’s bound to keep going until someone’s hurt.” Rowen shook his head and shakily pushed up to his feet.
