ROWEN
Early Monday morning,I found Fallon in the garage, hitting the punching bag with an intensity that told me he was nervous about seeing the doctor today. Sweat gleamed on his bare back, and the muscles in his legs and arms contracted and released as he focused on swinging his wrapped fists against the heavy bag, bouncing on his feet as though it was a real match and he needed to be ready to duck out of the way of an incoming attack. Even though he was clearly in his element, the tenseness in his spine gave away the stress he was feeling.
I stepped farther into the garage and watched the way he moved, graceful regardless of wherever his mind might be. He fought like he was floating on air, with a swiftness that he’d been known for when he’d been on the MMA circuit.
“Ye all right?”
He froze for a short moment before dropping his arms and turning in my direction. His blond hair was pulled up into a bun at the back of his head, but his hairline was soaked, as was his face. Droplets of sweat dripped from his jaw and his chest rose and fell in quick succession. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” I mimicked his strong New York accent, crossing my arms. As conflicted as I was about Fallon, I cared for him. “That’s not the Fallon I know. He’d be flirtin’ with me by now, even at this time of the fecking morning.”
He cocked his head and his mouth curved to one side. “Do you like me flirting with you?”
“Eh. I’ve had worse people trying to get into me trousers, not gonna lie.” I winked. I didn’t know why I was encouraging him when I’d told him to take it slow. The enemy was me in this situation, and the feeling of sinfulness that took hold of my body as I stared at his glistening abs.
He waggled his eyebrows and sidled up to me, close enough that I could smell the mixture of his sweat and natural body odor, and the scent had my mouth turning dry. The muscles on his chest were smaller than Cillian’s and Aspen’s, but he had the perfect build for an MMA fighter. He wasn’t lacking in the looks department, that was for sure.
“You like me flirting with you, admit it.” He touched my chest with his pointer and middle fingers and walked them up teasingly. Even though I had a T-shirt on, my skin burned as if we had actual contact. “You want meeeee.”
Want was a strong word and made me think mostly of sex. There was a difference between want and need, and I didn’t ever like to compare him and Vail. Comparison was a foolish man’s error, and while they were two different men in a lot of ways, I felt as though I needed Vail like I had a need to breathe.
With Fallon, my feelings were new and intriguing, and I didn’t intend to put a name on them yet. Fallon deserved better than to be second best to another man, and I wasn’t going to give him any less than I would Vail.Ifwe were going to do this, which I still hadn’t convinced myself was a good idea. So no, I didn’t onlywantFallon, but I didn’t quite need him yet, either—though, the desire for him was growing.
Cillian always said I overthought situations, and if I’d been anything like him, I would’ve taken Fallon to my bed already—just the two of us. He would tell me that was all Fallon required and he would be happy with that arrangement, but I wasn’t stupid. Fallon wasn’t only searching for sex, he wanted love, too.So much love. Didn’t everyone?
I cocked my head to the side and smiled at him, and he faltered. Since he’d joined our merry group of criminals, I hadn’t spent much time with him. I’d ignored him, and I regretted it now. I wish I’d gotten to know him before Vail came along. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t sunk more time into him, though I suspected it was because the Fallon back then unabashedly flirted with everyone, making me see him as nothing more than a player who would get us killed, since he didn’t take the job seriously. Now I saw him for what he was—lonely.
“What?” He frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
He shrugged uncomfortably and took a step back. “Like you’re reading my fucking mind or something. You know, Cillian would just bend me over and fuck me.”
I snorted. Of course he would, but that was why we were so different. “Good thing I’m not him then.” I walked over to a short bench Cillian had set up as a place he could sit and watch Fallon while he trained, and I took a seat. Nodding at the bag, I smiled. “How are ye doing with it?”
He narrowed his stare at me suspiciously as he moved back toward the punching bag and began to hit it again. “Fine. I’m training like he told me to.”
“Mm-hmm.” There was a terseness in his tone I didn’t enjoy. I studied the way he carried himself. Now that we’d interacted, the lightness in his footsteps had disappeared, leaving behind a much heavier presence. “Are ye nervous about the doctor?”
“No.” The short, sharp snap told me otherwise. His shoulders went rigid and he turned his back on me, stalking to the side of the garage as he ripped off the wraps on his hands.
I stood and strode over to him, grasping his elbow gently and making him freeze. I stroked my thumb over his skin in a caressing touch that had the edginess bleeding away, and he offered me a small smile that I counted as a win.
“Fight me.” My mouth curled in smugness when he frowned.
“What?”
“Fight. Me.” I snagged one of the wraps from the small table where he’d thrown it and wound it around his hand. He snorted and put them back on. I grabbed blue gloves, the pair Cillian used to train with him.
“Do you knowhow?”
His disbelief made me laugh. “Just because I don’t do something often doesn’t mean I can’t.” I took off my shirt and threw it on the floor before sliding the gloves on each hand. I shifted backward, heading toward the center of the garage near the bag. A padded mat rested against the side wall, and he went over to it and dragged it to the space where he’d been training. As he dropped the mat on the floor, I raised my eyebrows at him. “I prefer to take someone out from a distance. It’s not as personal. But I know how to fight.”
“How?” His lips twitched and finally he grinned, walking onto the mat. His gaze trailed down my chest to the waistband of my jeans, stopping there for a moment as his tongue slid out and he swiped it across his top lip. “Not all Killough men have ring skills. I thought you were a sniper because you couldn’t fight.”
I winked. “That’s yer first mistake. Ye think ye know a man, but ye don’t ask about him. How long have ye lived with us, Fallon? Not once did ye ask what I can and can’t do. Ye’ve only ever asked about me sniping skills.”
He cocked his head adorably as he raised his wrapped fists, and I did the same. “Okay. What kind of fighting can you do?”
