by Cecy Robson
My grip loosened on my pen until it fell from my grasp and onto the desk. Oh, no. Please don’t.
“I should know better than to push. I just thought, it won’t happen again,” he added quickly. “I swear it won’t. But please don’t leave. I meant it when I said that I needed you.”
He did want more. And now I’d ruined things.
I rubbed my eyes, frustrated.
When Killian first took over the gym last fall, his expenses were huge and his profit minimal. I’d built him the most basic site to attract business and helped him with promo. Philly took care of its own. When word got out that he was a local boy—with five years of professional MMA matches under his belt and taking on trainees—business exploded and so did the chaos. He needed a better site, a better bookkeeping program, and better organization.
“I need you, Sofia,” he repeated. “I can’t trust anyone else with my accounts and personal information. Will you stay and help me?”
He needed me. I dropped my hands away and lifted my chin. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Considering I’d changed my mind twice in the span of an hour, I couldn’t really blame him for doubting me or my sanity.
“Yes, I’ll help you,” I promised. I rustled through the papers on the desk repeatedly, trying to offer more of an explanation. But there I was again, unable to make sense out of what was right in front of me.
I could feel Killian’s gaze on me. Originally, I wasn’t supposed to start until the end of July. But when he called me a few days ago and gave me the lowdown, I knew he couldn’t wait.
He continued to watch me in silence. I finally stopped and lifted my chin. “I’m sorry, Killian. I don’t want to be so…” “Pathetic” was the first word that came to mind. But thankfully I didn’t say it out loud.
“You don’t need to be sorry about anything.”
But he was wrong.
I motioned to the door, unable to keep my eyes on his. “The thing is I need some privacy. It’s hard to focus with the noise.”
Killian leaned back and crossed his bulging arms, exposing the religious tats painting them. There was something unnerving about the Archangel Michael staring straight at me. Then again, he knew my sins well.
“The doors need to stay open, and so do the blinds,” Killian said.
A group of male voices laughed some distance away. Was it those same guys? I motioned toward the door again, my hand starting to shake. “I-I can’t concentrate. It wasn’t this loud last time.”
I wasn’t sure what Killian caught in my expression, but whatever it was deepened his voice. “I’ll buy you some plugs.”
“It won’t be enough,” I added quietly.
He watched me for a beat. Man, it was as if he could see straight into my thoughts. “Listen, Sofia, most of my guys training are decent. But some aren’t. I want to make sure you’re safe. I can’t do that if I can’t see you.”
“What if I lock—”
“No.” His tone was firm. “I need to know you’re safe at all times.”
I froze. How was I going to do this? But I couldn’t go back on my word again. My attention returned to my notes. Slowly, I lowered myself back to the chair and looked at the first list on my agenda. “Okay…I have to go over a few things with you so I can finish designing your program. It’s almost the same one I built for Teo’s business, but I want to cater it to fit your needs.”
He pulled up one of the chairs in front of his desk and sat, leaning back to rub his thin goatee. “What do you want to know?”
The tension between us slowly subsided, the more information I gathered. My mind latched on to his needs and quickly formed a plan. I typed feverishly, working fast.
“What about the website?” he asked when the silence lengthened between us. “Shouldn’t that come first?”
I glanced up from typing. “That won’t take me long to do. You just tell me what you want and how you want it and we’ll do it.”
His raised brows told me I should have phrased things differently. “Um,” I said like a dumbass. To give my face time to regain its normal olive tone, I opened the mock-ups I’d started and turned my laptop around. “I went to the sites you liked and created these.”
The mock-ups came in the colors he’d preferred: dark red, black, and charcoals in alternating patterns. The headers were different shots of him. Some were taken from actual fights I’d found on the web, others were from him training. “Where did you get these?”
He pointed to the ones of him sparring and working out at the gym. “Oh. I took them last fall when I first built your site. I used the digital camera my Uncle Lino gave me.”
He seemed surprised. “I saw the camera around your neck, but I thought you were just doing gym shots.”
I didn’t admit they were all of him ’cause, yeah, no one else had held my attention. I cleared my throat. “I can’t use the ones I found online, since I don’t own them. They’re just to give you an idea. But if you like these—”
“There’s no ‘if.’ Sofia, these are fucking rad—better than I expected. Can you go back to the first few?” He inspected each one as I flipped through. “Can we do a combo—on different pages—or do they all have to be the same?”
His excitement made mine surge. “No, I can do anything you want me to. Pick your home page and then we’ll add the other ones you like to your class schedule, your bio, or whatever you think your site needs.”
“Cool.” His eyes met mine again. I didn’t realize I was smiling until I felt it dwindle when his expression grew sad. “I’m really sorry. For pushing you.”
But he hadn’t. That didn’t mean I could tell him.
I focused on that mouth I had hoped would finally kiss me. “I’m sorry, too,” I said softly.
Chapter 3
I spent the remainder of the week with my earbuds in place and my head down. The same group of men continued to glance my way and whisper about me. Now their numbers had grown.
The only people I spoke to were Killian and his family, but even that was in small spurts. My goal was to get his work done and quick. I became a machine, typing fast, thinking faster. It was better than wondering what was being said about me.
Killian poked his head into the office one afternoon. “One of the boys is going for a coffee run. You want a latte or whatever that shit’s called?”
I giggled. Killian knew only one type of coffee: black. And even that he didn’t drink. “No, I’m good.”
“How about lunch?” He gave me a one-shoulder shrug when I raised my brows. “I ordered you a steak from Geno’s in case you were hungry. It should be here soon.”
A cheesesteak from Geno’s? Killer yum. “I’d love one. Thank you.”
“I told them no peppers.” He smiled. “You never liked peppers, right?”
He remembered. “No. Not on steaks.” I reached for my money. “Let me give you a few bills.”
“Don’t. I got it.”
I watched him leave in time to hear his sister, Erin, better known as Wren, enter the gym. I hadn’t seen her since the winter, but I heard her thick Philly accent loud and clear. “Hey, Kill. Did you order cheese fries? I’m starvin’.”
“You just got here!” Kill called from the front.
“That don’t mean I ain’t starvin’.”
She strolled in, tossing her gym bag on the empty chair in front of me. “Hey, Sofe. How’s it going, kid?”
“I’m all right. You?”
“Shitty. I think I’m getting my period.” Her two braids hung like thick black rope against her breasts. She rummaged through her bag and stood with a huff when she didn’t find what she was looking for. “Hey, you got any tampons on you?”
I snagged my bag from the floor. “I’m not sure, let me look.”
“Thanks. This womanly shit blows, you know? But I suppose if it’s all a part of me squeezing out a few puppies one day, it’s worth it, right?”
“Mmm.” I couldn’t squelch my smile. I liked Wren. While
“dainty” and “girlie” would be the last words I’d use to describe her, she’d always been kind in spite of her tough-girl persona. As the only girl in a household of six boys, she hated pink, hated dolls, and hated lip gloss. The only things she liked were cars and kicking ass. I wondered if she realized how stunning she was. Traffic stopped when she strutted down the street, but she never seemed to notice. Wren was just Wren. It was one of her many qualities that made her so endearing.
I passed her what I had.
“Thanks, Sofe.” She jerked her chin. “So Finn tells me you’re doing Kill.”
I think my jaw fell somewhere near my feet. “N-no. I’m not, I swear.”
She shrugged and tucked the tampon into the strap of her sports bra. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He’s a good kid—like you, you know?”
Help me, Jesus. “H-how’s it going down at the auto dealer?”
“Oh, it’s awesome. Sold more F-150s last week than those fucktard pricks I work with.”
“Yeah?”
“Totally. You lookin’ for new wheels? I can get you a sweet deal. All last year’s models are going on sale in two weeks.” She held up two fingers for emphasis. “Two. Time’s tickin’, Sofe.”
“Ah, no. I can’t afford that now, but thanks.”
“All right.” She pointed at me. “You change your mind, you tell me. I watch out for those from the old neighborhood.”
“Thank you.”
Wren cocked her head as she took in the floral sundress I was wearing. She wore tight, tiny shorts that showed off her abs and long, muscular legs. The only skin I exposed was on my arms, face, and ankles. “You look real nice, Sofi. Too nice. You sure you’re not banging my brother?”
I buried my face in my hand. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“ ’Cause Finn said—and granted Finnie tends to exaggerate the truth—that Kill was all, like, into you. Then again, he has been since even before he got pubes.”
If Wren was trying to offer me a compliment it didn’t feel like one. “We’re not having sex,” I assured her. I squirmed when she continued to watch me. “So, what are you up to?”
“Teaching kickboxing and self-defense to a bunch of stay-at-home moms. Pissed me off, though, one came in all big and pregnant. I was like, yo, you can’t be coming in here all big and pregnant. You know that crazy-ass bitch with her crazy-ass hormones accused me of discriminatin’ against her?”
“Seriously?”
“Totally. And you know what happened?”
I shook my head.
“She broke her water.” Wren hooked a thumb behind her. “Right there on the mat next to the Octagon. Killian was all pissed and made me clean it up, can you believe that shit?”
I blinked back at her. “Ah, no.”
“Swear to God. Almost threw up doin’ it, too.”
Finn knocked on the door. “Wren. Your class is ready.” He frowned at her shoulder. “Why the hell do you have a tampon tucked in you bra?”
“I think I’m getting my monthly.”
“Oh.”
She tossed the tampon in her bag and headed out. At five feet eight she was just two inches shorter than Finn. Both had been the runts of the O’Brien clan. She clapped her hands together as a group of women gathered along the wall where a row of heavy bags were lined up. “Hey, listen up, ladies. Youz were all pathetic last time. Don’t be pathetic. It don’t pay to be pathetic when some asshole with a knife comes after you—”
A little boy about six ran out from nowhere, jetting in circles around Wren. She grabbed him by the collar of his T-shirt. “Hey. You see me talkin’ here?”
The kid nodded.
“You see me teaching a class?”
He nodded again.
“Then what the hell are you doing?”
The kid blinked up at her. “I got ADHD,” he answered.
“No one here gives a shit, kid.” She glanced up. “Who does this kid belong to?”
A woman in very unforgiving spandex tossed her bag against the wall and kicked off her sneakers. “Sorry, Wren. My ma couldn’t take him so I had to bring him to class. Sauron, get your ass over here.”
The kid resumed his circle sprints around Wren the minute she released him. “Sauron?” Wren asked. “You seriously named your kid Sauron, Gloria? Do you wonder why he’s fucked up?”
Gloria threw up her hands. “Don’t get me started. It was my ex’s idea. Sauron! Get over here before I take away your iPad!”
Wren rolled her eyes. “Christ,” she spat. “Okay, ladies, twenty kicks—ten each leg—let’s go. Sauron, you grab a bag, too.”
Sauron pointed to himself. “Me?”
“Yeah. With a name like you got you’re gonna get your ass kicked. Might as well learn to defend yourself. Let’s go, ladies, come on!”
The men at the Octagon stopped fighting. I recognized the young man in blue MMA shorts as one of the many continuing to say crap about me. He hung over the side as Wren yelled instructions to her class. “Damn, you loud, Wren. Maybe you need some of this to keep it shut.” He jerked at the front of his shorts.
Wren looked up at him and smiled. “No. I’m too full from having some of your father’s. By the way, he apologizes for giving you such a small dick.”
“Oh!” the crowd yelled.
The women started laughing and so did the rest of the men gathered. The laughter died as Killian appeared with a paper bag of takeout tucked under his arm. Finn was behind him, holding a carrier filled with coffee. Neither was smiling.
“Hey, Jared!” Killian’s tone was low, but lethal. The guy in the blue shorts met his eyes, his jaw clenching. “You say shit to my sister like that again—or pull what you just did in front of another female—I’ll throw you out of here bleeding. You feel me?”
Jared nodded, slowly. I could tell he was pissed—both at Wren and at Kill for calling him out—but he wasn’t stupid enough to challenge him back. The O’Briens were plentiful and embodied the term “Fighting Irish.” You messed with one, you messed with most of Philly.
Killian turned away only when Jared did first, then slowly walked toward me. The anger chiseling his features softened as he took me in. He placed the bag of food in front of me and pulled up a chair. “Sorry you had to see that,” he said.
Finn shoved about ten fries in his mouth at once. “Yeah. The fucking asshat has no class,” he said through a mouthful of food. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, then pointed at the cardboard container packed within an inch of its life with cheese fries. “Want some, Sofi?”
“No, I’m good.” I smiled softly when Finn lifted a container of iced tea and placed it in front of me. My smile widened when Killian handed me my sandwich. “Thanks, guys.”
Kill shrugged. “No biggie. Do you want to go over stuff while we eat?”
“Sure.” I made room so Killian could edge around and see how far along I’d come. The elbow of his bulging arm was close enough that I could feel the small hairs brush against my skin. I didn’t realize I was staring until he nudged me playfully. I glanced up to catch his smile. This was the first show of affection he’d attempted since he thought I was blowing him off.
I welcomed it like air. “Hey,” I said quietly.
He cocked his head. “Hey.”
“You sure you guys aren’t doing it?” Finn blurted out through yet another mouthful of food. He frowned at Killian’s glare and threw a hand out. “What? I’m just asking.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’m eatin’!”
“Eat in your office.”
“That shit’s a closet. I’m a partner here. I deserve an office like this one.”
Killian leaned forward. “Five percent of the business earns you five percent of an office. You wanted bigger, you should have shelled out more of the inheritance instead of buying that damn Mustang.”
“It’s a hot car.” Finn pointed at him. “You said it yourself.”
“A hot car that’s going to b
e useless on the roads when it snows.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I got a plan.”
Killian shook his head. “You always do, don’t you, Finnie?”
Finn finished his food and then left me alone with Killian. It was only then that I finally stopped blushing. Killian had flipped approvingly through the pages I’d set up. Now he was selecting some pics to put on his website. I turned my attention on Wren. It beat gawking at him, although it had become my favorite pastime.
“Frodo. Get back in line!” she yelled.
“His name’s Sauron,” his mother reminded her, gasping loudly. The woman seemed moments from collapsing face-first. Wren was making them all her bitches and having giggles doing it.
“Sorry, Gloria. Got him confused with the guy with the hairy feet, seeing how your kid’s got some hairy-ass feet.” Wren continued to stalk around, fixing postures and belting out instructions, all the while kicking ass and showing how it was done. The girl was an animal. “Harder—goddamn, Laquita. This ain’t ballet. Kick like you want to bust open some balls and spill semen—”
“Wren!” Killian growled.
“What?”
“I’m two seconds from firing your ass! Watch your mouth!”
“You can’t fire me. I’m a partner.”
Killian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Here we go.” He stood, his deep voice booming. “Paying the light bill the first month doesn’t make you a partner. Besides, I gave you that money back.”
“Then make me a partner.”
“Fine. How much you puttin’ down?”
“Put me down for five.”
“Five grand?”
“No, five hundred. I ain’t made of money, Kill—Christ, Renee. Hands up—up! Reach up like you’re squeezin’ the Jolly Green Giant’s man parts.” She grinned our way. “That work better for you, Kill?”
Killian fell back into his seat, but he continued to glare at her. I tried not to laugh when I spoke. “Leave her alone. The women love her, and if she leaves, you’re stuck teaching the class on your own.”
The first woman went down, spread-eagled on the mat. The next to drop was Sauron’s mom. Little Sauron raced around both of them, his arms out like an airplane, making motor noises with his mouth.
