by Emma Nichole
“Really? You’d do that for me?” She stops in the street and turns to face me.
“Of course, I would. Who better to teach you than me? I am a two-time heavyweight champion, after all.”
She rolls her eyes and grins. “There’s the arrogance. I wondered if you had lost it there for a minute.”
“Never. That will always stay firmly intact.”
She gives me the most beautiful laugh before turning on her heel and heading through the door of the ice cream shop.
The evening passes easily. There isn’t a single moment of awkwardness or hesitation. It’s like I’ve known this woman for years, and as we pull back into the shared driveway of her home and my temporary home for the next few weeks, I’m hit with a pang of disappointment.
The night is over, and I don’t want it to be.
I kill the engine and help her from the bike.
It’s dark now. I can hear the croak of frogs in the distance, blending in with the song of the crickets, and the night air is decorated by the blink of fireflies.
She shifts on her feet a little before speaking, “Thank you for dinner, and the ride, and the evening, really. I had a really great time.”
“Enough of a great time to do it again soon? This weekend, maybe?” I itch to reach out and cup her face. The moves I usually lay on thick when I am trying to score settle under my skin, but I don’t make a move, no matter how much I want to.
“Did you mean what you said? About teaching me some things to defend myself?” She pulls all her hair over one shoulder then slides her hands into her back pockets.
“I did.”
The thought of this woman in a ring or cage with me is enough make me rock-hard in the blink of an eye.
“Can we do that this weekend?” she asks sweetly.
“Absolutely. I’ll find a gym around here with the equipment we need and I’ll call you.”
“That sounds good.” She extends her helmet to me, offering it back.
“That’s yours. Keep it.”
“I just didn’t know if you’d need it for someone else.”
“No.”
She looks back at her house then fishes her keys from her purse.
“Thank you again,” she says.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
She glances over my shoulder and giggles. “We have an audience.”
“What?” I spin around and see Nora peeking out the window of her house with Arya perched right next to her, head tilted to the side.
“They are so adorable sometimes.”
“They are ridiculous.” I laugh and wave my hand, shooing them away.
Nora and I have a silent, motion-filled, quick argument before she finally relents and closes the curtains, leaving us alone.
We climb the wooden steps to her front door and she turns to face me again.
“Well, goodnight, Falcon.”
“Goodnight, Faith.”
I lean in slowly, and I see her take a deep breath, holding it. She’s waiting for a kiss, but I bypass her lips and place a gentle peck to her cheek.
I want to woo this girl, not ravage her.
Well, I want to ravage her, but not yet. She’s the kind of girl who needs to be earned, and goddamnit, I will earn her.
Chapter 7
Faith
I’m about reeling by the time I get back to my bedroom after saying goodnight to Falcon. My heart is in my throat, and my entire body is tingling.
He’s bad for me. So, so bad for me. But I want more. I want to spend more time with him. He gives me this high I haven’t felt in so long.
I cover my hands with my face and smile so widely my cheeks hurt.
It’s a teenaged giddiness that rests in my belly, along with the flapping of butterfly wings.
The butterflies I never thought I’d be able to feel again. The butterflies I thought had been ripped away from me my sophomore year of college.
They aren’t dead after all.
I thought they had been snuffed out and had all their little wings plucked off by a man whose face is seared into my brain. No, not a man, a monster, who left permanent marks on my body, but wasn’t strong enough to leave deep wounds on my soul.
My phone vibrates loudly from my bag, pulling me away from my thoughts, and I sit up quickly, pulling it free to see Rose is calling me.
I slide my thumb across the screen to connect the call and before I can even say a word, she speaks, “Tell me everything, you hussy.”
I just laugh and laugh. “Oh my God, Rose. Oh. My. God.”
“That good huh?”
“He’s incredible. He’s so kind, and funny, and charming. Just wow. WOW.”
“What did he take you to do? That’s important.”
I lie back on my bed with my head nearly hanging off the side. “We went to dinner at the chicken place off Bay and then we went for ice cream. He took me on his motorcycle.”
“He rides a motorcycle? He just got ten times hotter.”
“You have no idea.” I cover my red cheeks. “It was so nice to just be able to relax and talk to someone, ya know? We spent a few hours together, then he drove me home and even walked me to my front door. He didn’t kiss me though.”
“Did you want him to?” Her tone shifts more seriously. She almost sounds surprised.
“I think I did,” I admit, surprising Rose and myself.
Dating has been both easy and hard for me over the last five years. Easy in, I like to go out and have a good time. Hard because I have to really trust someone before I let them get close to me intimately. Even just kissing. It’s not often I even want to kiss anyone after the first date because I just don’t feel that comfortable yet.
“Wow, that’s a step forward, don’t you think?” she asks.
“It’s hard to explain. OH!” I sit up quickly. “And he said that he would teach me a few things to protect myself.”
“He’s going to teach you how to fight?”
“He teaches self-defense classes for kids and teens in California. Volunteers, really. He said he wants to actually use his skills for good things too.”
“He sounds too good to be true. A hot as sin man with tattoos, a motorcycle, charming, and he is good with kids? There has to be a catch.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, but I mean…he’s only here for a short time, right? So in the grand scheme, this doesn’t even matter.”
“Uh huh.”
“What’s that uh huh about?”
“Faith, babe, I haven’t heard you this happy in regard to a man or a date in a long time. I just want to make sure you’re careful, is all.”
“I know and I love you for it.”
“But, even saying that, I think you need to enjoy yourself and this. You deserve it more than anyone else I know. I mean that.”
“Thank you for saying that.” I pick at the imaginary lint on my shorts before tracing the edges of my tattoo.
“Well, it’s true.”
We spend the next few minutes with general chitchat before hanging up with a promise of lunch tomorrow.
Rose was one of the first friends I made in Savannah, outside of Case, of course. She came in because she wanted to file a police report. Her boyfriend had been roughing her up a little, and she was done taking it.
The woman who walked into the police station that day and the woman I now call my best friend are two different human beings.
One was a terrified young woman at the end of her rope.
The other is a strong, independent badass who I just dare anyone to cross.
We grew close instantly and I told her my history. She held me while I cried. I did the same for her when she told me hers. It was a cathartic experience that brought us closer together than I could have ever imagined.
I climb from my bed and head into the bathroom to wash my face and settle in for the evening, all the while letting my mind wander to tattooed fighters who ride motorcycles and have the kindest hearts.
; Falcon
Faith Morgan is a conundrum in many ways. She’s so guarded and I can see walls a mile high stacked all around her, but then I get her on my bike, and she soars free like a bird in the open sky.
She’s stunningly attractive with a body I would give my left arm to have tucked underneath me, writhing and moaning, but I also want to just talk to her. I want to hear what she has to say and how she sees the world.
She’s the total fucking package, and now, as I climb the front steps to my sister’s home after saying goodnight to Faith at her door, I’m left with only one conclusion.
There must be a catch somewhere.
Before I can even lift my hand to push the front door open, the handle moves and the door flings backward and my sister appears.
“Hurry the hell up. I have questions and need answers. You’re taking all night to come inside and it’s annoying.”
She reaches forward, grabs the fabric of my shirt, and basically yanks me inside, slamming the door behind me.
“Fuck, Nor! You can’t just go yanking people around like that,” I say, adjusting my shirt.
“You’re my brother. It’s my job to yank you around now and then.” She plops down to sit on the couch. “Case is upstairs in the shower. You have about fifteen minutes to tell me everything before he comes down to give you the third degree too. Now, spill.”
“Aren’t we a little old for this?” I sit on the chair on the opposite side of the room, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees.
“Faith is my friend, you’re my brother. I’m doubly connected to this,” she says, as if that’s supposed to justify it all.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. We went out, had dinner, had ice cream, and came home. It’s that simple.”
She narrows her eyes at me a bit. “It’s never that simple with you. You’re known around Southern California as a whole for your one-night stand prowess.”
I place my hand over my heart. “Is that all I’m known for? I figured it would be the size of my huge…”
“NO!” she shouts then covers her ears. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Do not even go there, Marco Masen. I’ll murder you after I bleach my brain.”
I toss back my head and laugh. “I was going to say philanthropic heart, but now that you mention it…”
“Stop right there, I mean it.” She shakes her head.
“Look, Nora, Faith is a nice girl. We had a lot of fun together, and I’d like to see her again before I leave.”
“And you didn’t…”
“Yes. We did it on my motorcycle, while it was moving. It was a balancing act, but it got it done.”
“You’re such an asshole.” She tosses a pen from the table at me.
“Yeah, maybe, but you love me.”
“For some reason.”
“Did Faith make it home all right?” a voice sounds from the hallway, before Case appears in the living room. He walks around to kiss my sister on the lips and then sits down beside her. He’s essentially pissing on her right in front of me, staking his claim.
“She’s home. I took good care of her.”
“That better not be a euphemism,” he warns.
“Is there a reason you’re talking to me like that, man? Like you think I’m some kind of asshole who would intentionally hurt someone.”
“Guys, please, don’t start.” Nora holds up her hands in surrender.
“Faith has been through a lot in her life, and I’ve made it a priority to ensure her safety. Surely you can relate to that, given your history with Nora?” He places his hand on her leg and squeezes.
“First of all, don’t bring Nora into this. It’s dangerously close to crossing a line, and I know no one in this room wants this to happen. Second of all, whatever Faith has been through, she can make her own choice about who she sees. She had a good time tonight, we ate dinner and that was it. Do I want to see her again? Absolutely. I just told Nora this. Will I? I’m not sure. That’s up to Faith.” I decide to keep it to myself that we’ve already made plans.
We stare silently at one another before Case finally speaks again, “Good to know. I just needed to make sure, and sometimes it helps to put a bit of pressure on.”
I scrub my hand over my face and sit back in my chair. “I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of my sister, so good thing you corrected yourself.”
“Marco!”
“No, no, baby. He’s being honest and I can respect that,” Case adds.
“And you are kind to my sister, which I can respect,” I say.
“So, mutual respect?” Nora asks. “That’s what we’ve established here?”
“Exactly,” I say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to turn in for the night.” I rise from the chair.
“Do you have plans tomorrow? I have the day off and I’d like to take you around town,” Nora says.
“I’m all yours, Little Sister.”
She dances in her seat and claps. “Yay!”
***
My phone is blinking on the nightstand when I come back into the room from my shower, telling me I have a waiting text message.
I sit on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, and open the text app, seeing an unread message from Faith, and my lips curl up in a grin.
Faith: I had a really great time tonight.
I type out a quick reply.
Me: Me too. And see, I knew you’d have fun on the bike.
The three dots immediately appear, telling me she is replying.
Faith: I’ve always been scared of them, but you made me feel comfortable. Thank you.
Me: It was my pleasure. Trust me.
Faith: Well, it’s late, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted to tell you I had fun.
Me: I’ll never turn down a text from a pretty girl. You can reach out anytime you’d like.
I send it then instantly send another, hoping to make her smile.
Me: In fact, I encourage it. Nudes are a plus.
The three dots appear again, then disappear, then reappear, then disappear.
Fuck. Did I cross a line? Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’m already typing out a reply when a picture message comes through and her beautiful face fills my screen.
Faith: Not a nude, but I hope you like it.
In the photo, she’s lying down in what I think is her bed with a sheet pulled up to her chest. Her blonde hair is loose around her face and she’s puckering her lips in a kiss. There’s not a stitch of makeup on her face.
Me: This is better than a nude.
Faith: OMG, don’t even try to lie. LOL.
Me: I’m not lying. You’re beautiful.
Faith: Smooth talker.
Me: And just between you and me, I really wanted to kiss you.
Faith: I wanted you to kiss me too.
My cock stirs underneath the towel at the simple thought of kissing her. I’m like a fucking fifteen-year-old right now when it comes to her.
Me: Maybe next time.
Faith: Maybe
