by Ciz, Alley
“Actually.” Holly’s voice brought the chatter to a halt. “I was supposed to be meeting Becky and Gemma here.” She looked to where the two girls stood at the reception desk, eyebrow raised in question. Both girls nodded in confirmation.
“You were?” Vince looked down as he asked.
“Yeah.”
Talk about a blow to a guy’s ego. Here he thought she was there to see him. The memory of their scale-busting kiss was fresh on his lips. He'd hoped it was so overwhelming she finally sought him out for a change, when in reality he had nothing to do with her visit.
“I didn’t realize you knew my cousin.”
Her eyes lifted to meet his again. “I don’t.”
Now he was really confused. “Then why would you come here looking for her if you don’t know her?”
“Not that it’s any of your business…” Ahh, there was his sassy girl. “I’m supposed to be meeting them to see if we get along enough to want to live together.”
“Yay.” Becky clapped her hands together excitedly. “We’ve had a free room since that one”—she thrust an arm in Rocky’s direction—“abandoned us for Octoman.”
“Can you blame me?” Rocky retorted. “Look at him.” She slid a hand up Gage’s arm, squeezing his bicep in a way that probably wasn’t suitable in a room with her brother, father and uncle nearby.
“Again with the Octoman?” Gage complained. “It makes me feel like a character in a comic book.”
“Not that this isn’t fascinating and all.” Papa Steele commanded the attention of the room. “You’re all done for the day. Get out of here. Vin.” Vince turned to his dad. “You’re running home today too.”
Fucking cardio day.
He gave his dad an exuberant salute.
“I guess it’s a good thing you are here,” Holly said low enough for only him to hear. His spirits lifted at her words. “I need to talk to you.” And down they crashed. Nothing good ever came from those particular words.
“What’s up, Cupcake?” He angled his body so they were cocooned in their own private bubble.
“I can’t go out with you tomorrow.” His disappointment was acute.
“You have to work late?”
“No.” She shook her head, the purple tips of her hair brushing against her cheeks. “I’m just not in a place where I should be going on dates right now.”
The caveman inside him wanted to push the issue, the driving need to claim her as his own blinding in its intensity. He mentally beat that side of him back with a four-punch jab-cross-hook-uppercut combo. He could bide his time.
Because there was one thing he knew that she didn’t.
They were about to become neighbors.
Chapter Eleven
Vince stripped out of the sweat-wicking Under Armor shirt while he rode the elevator up to the twelfth floor. When the doors opened with a ding, he wasn’t surprised to see both the door to his place and the apartment where Gemma and Becky—as well as Holly soon—lived across the hall propped open so everyone could come and go as they pleased.
AC/DC was still singing in his earbuds about how they were dynamite and were going to win the fight when he stepped into his apartment to find not only those who lived in their building but all the other fighters from the gym and the remaining members of The Coven. He pulled the buds from his ears as every person in the room turned to watch him.
Seemed his friends weren’t wasting any time in their interrogation. All he wanted was a hot shower to ease his sore muscles and maybe a chance to relieve some of the pressure brewing below his belt since almost taking Holly in the kitchen, followed by enjoying the extra serving of carbs cardio day afforded him. So much for that plan.
Ignoring the knowing looks tossed his way, he headed for the shower in his private bath.
Ten minutes later, he was showered and dressed for battle in another pair of joggers and a Blizzards t-shirt. He made his way down the hall and steeled himself for what he was about to face.
Jordan’s eighteen-month-old twins spotted him first and wobbled down the hall for him, letting out a chorus of “Bin, Bin, Bin,” still struggling to pronounce the V in his name properly.
Dropping to one knee, he scooped a girl in each arm and covered them both in kisses as they did the same to him.
“How are my two favorite ladies doing?” he asked as he rose.
“Nana?” Lacey or Lucy, he couldn’t be sure which, held a partially crushed banana out to him. He took a tiny bite, earning him a beaming smile, and strode the rest of the way into the room.
“So?” Beth, Gage’s cousin-in-law and the most recent Covenette, asked as he joined her where she sat on the floor with her own almost one-year-old.
“So,” he said back, playing dumb.
“Don’t even try it.” She waggled a finger at him. “Dumbass is Gage’s name, not yours. Spill the deets.”
He looked up. Everyone was waiting for his explanation. Shit. Looked like there was no getting out of it. He was going to catch so much shit for this. He wasn’t necessarily a playboy but he had never shown serious interest in a woman before. Lord knew his mother couldn’t wait for him to settle down and start popping out some grandbabies like his sister.
“Okay, fine.” He huffed out a breath. “I have a thing for Holly.”
Skye let out a snort. “You have more than a thing from what we’ve heard.”
“Yeah, practically having sex at EP is definitely more,” Jordan added.
He was quick to put his hands over the ears of the twin on his right knee. “Lay, Lu, whichever you are, don’t listen to your mama.”
“That would be Lucy. And please.” She waved off his concern. “They’re a year and a half, they don’t know what sex means. And you should hear some of the stuff their father says to me. If they aren’t repeating any of that, I think we’re safe.”
She had a point. Jordan and Jake were total hornballs and got it on more than most people probably expected a married couple would—especially a couple with two small children.
“How do you tell them apart?”
Lacey and Lucy were as identical as twins could get. They inherited their straight blonde hair from their mom and the bright emerald green eyes and dimples from their father. He could already feel his hair turning gray from what the future would bring.
“I’m their mom.” Jordan shrugged, fingering a piece of Lacey’s hair. “When you push a person out of your vagina, you kinda know these things.”
He shuddered. “So not the visual I needed, JD.”
She gave him a wink.
“Plus.” She reached out to touch Lacey’s yellow flower earring. “Lay’s earrings are yellow and Lu’s are blue.” She leaned back and fixed him with a hard stare, proving yet again why she was the distinguished leader of The Coven. Girl had bigger balls than the athletes she managed public relations for. “Now stop trying to distract us. Tell us about the kitchen sex that went down this morning.”
“We. Didn’t. Have. Sex.” He spoke each word slowly, hoping it would be enough to sink in.
“Yeah, but you were missing a few articles of clothing,” Skye pointed out. He shouldn’t be surprised they were caught up on all the details. Lyle lived for gossip.
“It was just a shirt. It was full of sweat from my run to the gym.”
“Oh, and how chivalrous of you to shed it before you crammed your tongue down the girl’s throat,” Beth said.
“Did it ever occur to you to ask the girl on a date before playing tonsil hockey with her?” Rocky asked.
“I did ask her out. For tomorrow night,” he said the first part with pride before his shoulders slumped.
“And where are you gonna take her?” Becky asked.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. When she was at The Steele Maker earlier, she told me she couldn’t date me right now.”
“And that’s it?” Gemma asked. “You’re just going to give up?”
“Have all the romance books I’ve made you read thro
ugh the years gone to waste?” Maddey threw her hands up in frustration. Since she became an indie romance author, their whole group had started a book club as a show of support. Now, years later, she had turned each and every member of their squad into complete romance junkies.
“Hell no, I’m not giving up.” Holly was his. Now he just had to make her see it. “Besides…I’m about to be guaranteed to see her every day. I’ll get my date.”
Then he would get the girl.
Chapter Twelve
Holly was baffled by how quickly things happened after she met—and loved—her new roommates. Kyle and Lyle were waiting for her when she got back to Espresso Patronum, knowing smiles on their handsome faces. They then proceeded to tell her they already rearranged the schedule for the next day so she would be off and able to move in to her new place. She teased them about being eager to get her out of their hair, but in her heart knew it was their way of supporting her in her quest for independence.
Lyle and Kyle Samson were angels on Earth.
She used part of the morning to pack for the move, stacking the handful of bags she had by the front door, ready to go when the guys got home and could drive her over. Times like this were when she missed her car. The luxury coupe was a dream to drive, but it was the freedom having her own vehicle afforded her that she missed most.
Since the Mercedes wasn’t in her name, she didn’t want to risk having the cops called on her for grand theft auto, so she'd arranged for a tow truck to deliver it back to its legal owner.
She also didn’t want to chance the Vehicle Finder app being used to track her whereabouts. Instead of driving directly to Kyle and Lyle’s, she’d met them in Philadelphia, where she’d called for the tow truck and ditched her old phone, before riding to New Jersey with them to start her new life.
That was three weeks ago.
Now here she was, on the cusp of taking yet another step on the road to version Holly 2.0, where she called the shots and no one else.
The sound of the doorbell startled her, terror flooding her system. They found me. The thought played on repeat as she tiptoed to the window to the right of the door. Inching up slowly, she peered out one of the decorative panes to see who was at the door.
She blinked, then blinked again. No way. The sight before her did not compute. Because if she wasn’t hallucinating, then that meant Jake Donovan and Ryan Donnelly were standing on her best friend’s front porch.
She may have grown up in the upper-crust of Connecticut, and hockey may not have been the “approved” sport to watch, but she would have had to be living under a rock not to recognize the two athletes.
The two had already made a name for themselves as top players in the National Hockey League, both playing on the gold medal-winning Olympic team a few years back. They also graced more billboards and commercials than most other professional athletes. And they were both dead-ass sexy.
It made absolutely no sense for them to be here, but it was a better scenario than she’d envisioned, so she opened the door. Both hockey hunks smiled down at her from their nearly-a-foot-taller heights. The size difference caused Vince to jump to the forefront of her mind for what felt like the millionth time that morning.
She'd stood her ground and told him she wouldn’t be going out with him that evening but as much as she tried, she hadn’t been able to banish him from her thoughts. That was information only she and her vibrator were privy to though. Because hot damn, the boy was spank bank material perfection.
“Umm…I don’t remember entering any contest,” she said to the NHL superstars.
“That’s a bit random, but oh-kay.” Ryan Donnelly sounded as confused as she felt.
Jake Donovan flashed her a smile that included the most perfect set of dimples she had ever seen. Vince’s single dimple came to mind. That was Vince thought one million and one.
“We’re here to help you move,” Jake said.
“Not to sound rude or anything, but why in the world would you two”—she pointed at each of them—“be helping me move?”
“The Coven asked us to. And we’ve found life is much easier when we don’t question them,” Ryan said.
“Seriously…I need to meet this mystical Coven. I've heard them mentioned like a hundred times.” It was an exaggeration but still.
Jake’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? Aren’t we helping you move in to Beck and Gem’s place?”
“Yes?” What did that have to do with the Coven?
“They’re two of the founding members,” Ryan said as he bent to lift her two large suitcases.
“And…they are your friends?”
“Yup,” Jake said, draping the straps of the remaining duffles over his shoulders before walking to a black Escalade parked on the street.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she gathered up the last of her bags, grabbed her purse, and followed the hockey boys.
* * *
Vince took two steps back from the force of Griff’s latest hit to his side. Sparring with the World Boxing Council's current heavyweight champ did wonders for his own boxing skills, but it was hell on the body. His bear-sized friend knocked him around like one of those weighted clown punching bags, pushing him back only to have him return for more.
“Vin, you’re dropping your left shoulder, leaving yourself open for Griff’s hit.” His uncle Mick—the gym’s boxing coach and a WBC champ back in his day—instructed from outside the boxing ring.
“Come on, Superman, you can do better than that,” Griff taunted, knocking his red boxing gloves together.
Shaking off the most recent hit, he squared his shoulders, resuming his fighting stance and watching the position of his shoulder.
Growing up the nephew of a famed boxer, he was usually one of the MMA guys who could hold his own inside the ring, but his concentration was shot. The gray matter between his ears was consumed by the knowledge that Holly should be moving into the apartment across the hall from his. Becky had already left to be there for her arrival, and Gemma was working out of the apartment, meal prepping for him and whichever clients were on her list for the day.
Loving what he did for a living, the six hours he spent training five days a week usually flew by. Now, not so much. Holly may have turned down his date, but they would be spending the evening together, she just didn’t know it yet.
“Watch the elbows, Vin,” his uncle called out as he bobbed out of the way of Griff’s latest jab.
He shuffled his feet, he and Griff dancing around the ring, toying with each other as they traded blows. Griff wasn’t pulling his punches, making Vince especially grateful for the protective headgear. His family might be obsessed with the Rocky franchise, but he didn’t need to look like Balboa after fighting Apollo Creed. He wanted to look his best for Holly later, and a swollen eye just didn’t scream pretty.
“Vin!” Mick yelled, exasperated. “Get your head out of your ass and stop leaving yourself open to a kidney shot.” His hands slapped against the matted floor of the ring. “That’s it…I can’t take anymore. Go work with the speed bag.”
Well, shit. Now he felt like a kid being sent to the principal’s office.
Grabbing the towel hanging over the black ropes of the ring, he ran it vigorously over his head, then wiped the sweat from his bare chest and arms. He held the Velcro of his right glove in his teeth to unwind it before removing his left glove. Then he pulled off the bottom layer of cotton wraps and added them to the basket to be washed at the end of the day.
Rocky made her way over as he pulled out the gray Mexican-style hand wraps he preferred for speed bag work. She’d wrapped his hands long before becoming the gym’s official physical therapist.
No words were needed as she slipped his thumb through its loop and set to work winding around his wrist, up his hand and through his fingers.
After both hands were wrapped, he flexed and stretched his fingers, clenching his fists, alternating knocking each against an open palm.
“Good?” she asked.
He nodded. “As always.”
She gave him a smile, her matching gray eyes sparkling back at him as she unconsciously rubbed a hand over the small bump of her belly. She had a shirt with a cartoon baby wearing boxing gloves and a speech bubble above it saying, 'Who called my mommy fat?'
“You know,” she said as she walked with him to the row of speed bags alongside the windows. “If you want me to keep being able to wrap your hands, you’ll have to take a small hiatus after you bring home the belt to ring in the New Year.”
He loved how confident she was in his abilities. Growing up, they had always been each other’s greatest champions, her supporting his fighting career and him supporting her freaky smartness and her ridiculous number of certifications.
“I don’t think that will be a problem. If I win this thing, I’ll finally be able to sponsor that women’s shelter. I’m sure that will keep me busy.”
“When, Vin.” She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “When you win this thing.” She stared him down until he agreed.
“Good. Now stop thinking about a certain pretty baker and get to work.”
“I wasn’t thi—”
She cut him off a with a look.
Damn.
She could read him like one of Maddey’s books.
Chapter Thirteen
Holly couldn’t believe the size of her new apartment. When Jake first pulled into the underground parking garage for the newer high-rise building, she thought there was no way they were in the right place.
Then she stepped through the doors to 12A and knew this couldn’t be her new home. The apartment was huge—even split three ways, she didn't understand how it could be so affordable.
Both of her new roommates were in the kitchen when Jake walked in without knocking. Gemma was cooking something that smelled like heaven, and Becky hung out on one of the barstools. After a quick detour to give kisses hello, both guys disappeared down the hallway to the right with her stuff, clearly knowing which room was hers.