by Emilia Finn
Is she glowing because of her baby? Or simply because she’s the happiest woman on the planet?
When she’s done with my hair, she snags a makeup bag from the bed and gets to work with a little eyeshadow. Mascara. Bronzer, and lipstick. She does me up like I’m her Barbie doll, and smiles while she works.
“You’re so beautiful Nora. I was so fucking jealous of you in high school.”
I scoff. “The irony runs deep, because I was jealous of you.”
“I have sisters, and I have cousins that I think of as sisters,” she murmurs. “I think of you the same way. I know shit started rocky for us, but I’m so happy to call you mine.”
“You’re gonna make me cry,” I whisper. “Don’t make me cry before a date.”
“We’ve already been crying,” she laughs. “Baby news. Sore coochies. Sisters.” She cups my face and studies my eyes. “I know you have a sister. I promise she’ll never be forgotten.” She swallows. “She’s ours too. She’s one of us, so I don’t want you to ever think she didn’t matter.”
“I know.” I sniffle. “She was special. She won’t be forgotten.”
“So… if she was here, do you think she’d encourage your obsession with Friends? Or would she knock on Tucker’s door, shove you forward, and run like her ass was on fire?”
She paints such a vivid picture in my mind. My sweet big sister, dressing me up, smacking my butt, and tossing me at Tucker because it would make her laugh.
“The second,” I admit on a giggle. “She would do the knock and run thing.”
“So explain to me, silly, why you’re getting dressed for a date with a dude that isn’t Chuck?”
“Because you set us up?” I let her take my hands when she reaches for them. “Because it would be rude to cancel at the last minute.”
“And going out with him while you think of the man you kissed at lunch isn’t rude?” She lifts a questioning brow.
“I didn’t kiss him,” I counter. It’s a lie, and we both know it. “He did the kissing. I was the victim.”
“Victim, my ass.” She pulls away, only to slap my butt and snatch up a pair of heels. “Put these on.”
“They’re pretty sexy.” I study the four-inch heels. The black straps that wind around my ankles. The sharp heel that could kill a man if I tripped and fell wrong.
“They are super sexy,” she agrees. “So tonight, when you’re eating with Tom, I want you to imagine Chuck.” She grins. “Imagine your legs resting on his shoulders while he fucks your coochie sore.”
“Evie!” I screech. “You’re horrible.”
“I dare you not to think of that now.” Laughing, she follows me into the hall once I stand in my shoes, and skips her way into the living room where Galileo lays on the couch and watches reruns. “He’s nice, ya know? He’s sweet, and kind. He’s silly, but he’s also a gentleman.”
“Tom or Galileo?”
“You know I was talking about Chuck,” she drawls. “Your ass knows who I was talking about.”
“If he’s so sweet, why didn’t you set us up?” I stand at my kitchen counter with a lifted brow and work through my purse.
Keys. Credit card. Lipstick, and a tampon – there’s always a tampon. I touch my Glock 9 and frown.
I’ve been training for so long, learning, earning my freedom. Kane and Jay have been my tutors for years, my personal instructors, since nobody in the world shoots as well as they do – according to them. I’ve carried my gun everywhere from the moment Kane gave it to me. I’ve had it within reach for so long that the thought of leaving it at home makes me sweat.
But I have no reason to be afraid. My monsters are either dead – Abel and Flynn – or they’ve become my friends – Jay and Kane. There’s no reason for me to carry this thing around.
So with a deep breath, I turn around, reach up, and place it on top of my kitchen cabinets.
When I lower back to flat feet, I turn to find Evie watching me with curious eyes.
“You okay?” she asks.
I clear my throat and fix my dress. “Yup. You didn’t answer my question.”
“About Chuck?” She shrugs. “I didn’t think to set you up with him. He’s Mac’s friend, not mine, so I don’t often see him. He was out of sight, out of mind, ya know?”
“And now he’s not?”
She grins. “Now he’s eclipsing my mind, because he kissed you in that diner. He smacked your hand, and what did you do?” She stares into my eyes. “I underestimate you. I think a lot of us do, because I was certain you were going to lose your shit. Ben thought you were gonna lose your shit. He thought he was going to have to throw down in the middle of the diner to defend your honor. We baby you, when we really shouldn’t. But you didn’t react how I thought you would. Instead, you blushed and started panting a little.”
“I did not pant!”
“You damn well did,” she declares. “That man might annoy you, but he intrigues you. He turns you on. And yeah, maybe you’re dressing for Tom right now, but we both know you’re really not.”
“You’re projecting.”
I stand taller when a knock at my door brings Galileo’s head up. He bolts across the room on skidding and sliding feet, slams against the solid door with a thud, and sniffs at the small gap at the bottom.
“That must be my date.”
“Tell him you’re not feeling well.”
I grab my purse and walk away from the gun I left behind.
“Nora! Tell him you got crabs and can’t go out tonight.”
“I will not.” I check my makeup in the hall mirror and smile at my reflection. “I’m excited to get something nice to eat, and I’m already dressed.”
“You can stay in your dress. Go visit Chuck, and I’ll bring a pizza to your door.”
“Chuck is barking up the wrong tree. Come, Galileo.” I shuffle him out of the way so I can look through the peephole.
I study my date’s hair, his eyes, his black sports coat.
“Sandy blond hair?” I ask Evie.
“Yeah. But Chuck is funny,” she continues while I unlock the door. “He knows how to challenge you. He’s a sweetheart with a filthy mouth. Those are the best kind!”
“No.” I swing the door wide and smile for my date. “Hello.”
“Oh, hey.” Tom’s dark eyes slide from my toes, along my legs, over my hips, and up to my chest. It’s like a physical caress. Like a real touch that skeeves me out a little bit. He offers a hand, and grins like he just won a prize. “You must be Nora. I’m Tom.”
“Yeah. Hey.” I take his hand and shake. “I am. You’re right on time.” I turn back to Evie and smile. “I love promptness.”
Smiling, teasing, Evie saunters forward and meets us at the front door. “Tom. You look sharp as hell.”
“Aw, thanks, Miss Kincaid. Combed my hair and everything.”
Damn, he’s kind of charming, too.
“You did it up. Nice work. So, here’s the thing.” She nods in my direction. “Nora hasn’t been feeling great today.”
Tom’s eyes snap to mine. “Oh?”
“She’ll still come to dinner with you, but she’s been feeling a little bleh. So don’t be offended if she crashes early.”
Pursing my lips, I glare at my friend. Then back to Tom. “I’m okay. It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
I’ve yet to release his hand, so he merely pulls mine in and loops it around his arm. Turning with a proud smile, Tom tugs me along, only to stop on a skid when Tucker’s door opens.
He steps into his doorway, buck-ass naked – naked! – and chows down on a chicken leg.
“Tucker!” I scold in shock.
Evie squeals with laughter, and throws her hands up to cover her face.
“Aw, hey, neighbor.” He takes another bite of his chicken. Naked! “You look pretty. Date night?”
“Um…”
Tom’s arm bulges under my hand. Adrenaline. Fight or flight. But he’s known me exactly twenty seconds, and if he’s a m
ember of the gym, that makes Evie his superior in some ways. So he clamps his shit down and speaks through gritted teeth. “Dude. It’s inappropriate to be walking the halls with no pants on.”
“Oh, nah. It’s cool.” Tucker waves his chicken leg. “Nora’s cool. We have this neighborly agreement going on, ya know. Clothes aren’t compulsory, but equality is. So, see, if I have no pants on…” He looks to my legs and lifts a brow. “You’re breaking the rules, Nora.”
“You get nude with this guy?” Tom’s eyes snap to me. “Really?”
“No!” I shoot a glare at Tucker. “Tom, this is Tucker. Tucker was in a skydiving accident last summer.”
Tom’s eyes widen. “He was?”
“Yeah. He forgot the parachute.” I clap my hands together. “Splat. Landed on his head, and now he’s a little bit… ya know…” I widen my eyes. “He needs special help sometimes. Tucker, honey. You need to go back inside. Your caregiver will be waiting to run a bubble bath for you.”
“Nah.” He takes another hefty bite and grins with chicken in his teeth. “She’s off for tonight and told me I could stay up as late as I want.”
“That’s nice, sugar.” I drag Tom toward the stairs. “Galileo, come. Evie, goodnight.”
“Have fun,” my best friend squeaks. “I’ll… um… close up your apartment.”
“Goodnight, Tucker. Call Maria and have her read you a bedtime story. She should know better than to leave you home all alone.”
“Goodnight, Mami.” He grins like the devil himself. Winks. And because he wants to be extra disgusting, he grabs his dick when Tom is paying attention to our feet, and not my insane neighbor. “Sweet dreams.”
I grit my teeth and flip him off as we round the stairs and continue down.
“Well, that was…” Tom clears his throat. “Not what I was expecting.”
“I’m so sorry. I swear that wasn’t my fault. He’s a loose cannon sometimes.”
“Does he…” He frowns and holds my hand tighter as Galileo trots down the stairs with a stick of jerky in his mouth. Tucker gave him jerky! “Does he bother you? Is it safe?”
He bothers me every damn day. “He won’t hurt me.”
“He might be… ya know,” he clears his throat, “special, but he’s jacked. He works out, which means he’s strong. If he got angry, he could do some real damage.”
“He’s not aggressive.” I pat his hand and smile. “Honestly. He’s like…” I look around and consider. “He’s like Galileo. Big and strong, and he could do damage. But mostly, he’s docile and harmless. I’m never afraid when he’s around.”
And that thought, that pure, deep-in-my-bones truth, hits me like a ton of bricks.
I’m never afraid when he’s around.
I draw in a deep breath, fill my chest until I smile, then I let it out again as we come to the last set of stairs. “Let’s not worry about my neighbor. Tell me about you.”
“Well…” He clears his throat. “Okay. My name’s Tom, and I moved to town last year to keep close to Miss Kincaid’s tournament.”
“Yeah? Did you fight last year?”
“I did.” He holds the building doors open and lets me through. No slap on the ass. No howling at the moon.
“What division are you in?”
“Middleweight.”
“Did you win?”
“No.” He chuckles. “Mac Blair put me on my ass and took the title. But this is a new year. We just never know, huh?”
“We just never know,” I agree.
I smile when he leads me toward a hatchback. It’s not rusted and trashed, and it’s not top of the line luxury either. It’s perfectly… average.
“This is my third year competing, my first full year training at the Rollin On Gym, so it might be a third-time’s-the-charm thing.”
“I sure hope so.” No I don’t. Because Mac is my friend, and I want him to win all of the titles. “Is fighting your day job, or do you do something else?”
And so I begin a game of twenty questions with a man I don’t know.
Tom drives us across town to a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant no one knows about – including me – but he seems friendly with the cooks. Galileo makes no fuss, he sits under my chair, and Tom uses all of his good manners to not ask about the two-hundred-pound dog I brought on a date like it’s normal to do so.
Through the course of our conversation, I discover Tom works in construction during the day. He has three sisters – all younger – no brothers, and a mother whose name is literally Betty.
And yes, she likes to bake.
Tom asks about my family, but I long ago learned the art of deflection. Except for telling Tucker today, I keep my business locked up tight and tell no one. Not even the people who already know, not even locals who have heard about ‘that poor girl that got hurt at Infernos’. My lips are sealed when it comes to what happened to my sister and I a decade ago, unless the person I’m talking to is Sonia.
Or, well, in today’s case, Tucker.
Instead, I tell Tom about my mom and dad. Sweet couple, working-class citizens – my mom works in the bank, and my dad is an electrician. I tell him that I grew up in this town, that I have one sister – I speak no more on that topic – and a heavy interest in Evie’s fight circuit.
“So, you’re their tech guru?” he asks with wide eyes. We eat crab, actual crab, where we have to smash the shell open and pick out the meat. “You’re the person behind the website and stuff?”
I shrug, and keep to myself the security systems we’ve been putting in place over the last week or so. The fighters will know about it eventually, they’ll know what Evie tells them. But the fact I’m behind a lot of it doesn’t need to be common knowledge. “Sort of. Most of it was already all set up by my boss.”
“Sophia?” he prompts.
“Right. I’m employed by the Bishops, and Sophia is married to Jay Bishop. She’s the main tech person, since she’s pretty brilliant, but when I was wandering around after high school, wondering what I should do with my life, I was sat down with a computer, and told that I would be learning how to code.”
“Code?” He’s impressed. “You’re, like, super smart, huh?”
I snort. “I’m teachable. I’m not particularly clever, but I can take instruction, I take notes, I practice and get better. So when Evie came to us about needing a Stacked Deck website and stuff, Soph took the lead and set up all of their foundations. But the last year or two, she’s been sending more stuff my way. I redid the website, I help create video promos, I helped her set up the portal so fighters could pay online to enter the tournament.” I shrug. “My job is to help Evie streamline the business she created with a notebook and a sparkly pen.” I laugh. “She has the ideas, but needs other people—”
He points and grins. “You.”
“Right, me or Soph or whoever, to support her. We run around and clean up her mess. Do you like your food?”
“Shit yes, it’s delicious. You?” He looks to my pile and frowns a little. “You didn’t eat much.”
“I had a big lunch.” Fried chicken. Cherry tomatoes. And Tucker Morris. “My car broke down today.”
“Oh damn. That sucks. You get it towed?”
I’ve officially run out of things to talk about.
“Yeah, it’s with my mechanic now. They said I’d get it back in a few days. Which means I should probably ask my boss tomorrow if they have a car I can borrow.” Sitting back, I wipe a napkin over my face. “It’s not a big deal.”
Tom gets two hours. Two whole hours, because I feel bad about Tucker’s interference at the beginning of the night. Crab, a single beer for Tom, country music being played from a jukebox, and Galileo whining beneath the table because there are no gravy-smothered fries being passed down to him every thirty seconds.
“I had a nice time.” I let Tom walk me all the way to my door, and pray – I pray! – that Tucker isn’t still standing butt-naked in the hall. “I never knew about that restaurant. It’s
like a town secret that not even the locals know about.”
He chuckles and steps closer when I turn at my door. Galileo leans against my thigh, protective, but quiet while Tom abuses my space in a very subtle way. “I just happened to wander past it one night last year. Stepped inside, ate, and realized they cook an awesome meal.” He clears his throat. “Ya know, I wasn’t sure what to expect when Miss Kincaid pulled me aside at the gym and told me she wanted to set me up with her friend.”
“You would be forgiven for assuming it would be a disaster,” I laugh, but then my breath stops dead in my throat when he reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Um… her plans are usually wild. I’m surprised you agreed.”
“I was intrigued.”
“And now?”
He grins. “I’m impressed. And really glad I took the leap of faith, because I had a really nice time too.”
He tests our boundaries, inches forward, and presses a dry, close-mouthed kiss to my lips when I don’t go running the other way. It’s short, sweet, and though his tongue touches my bottom lip, he backs off when I don’t open up.
He rests his forehead on mine and studies my eyes. “Fair call,” he murmurs. “I’m still happy I came out.”
“Thanks for showing me a nice night. Not all of Evie’s setups are as kind or sweet as you.”
“Who knows, maybe we can try this again next weekend.”
“Um…” I swallow the lance of guilt that slashes through my chest. “Yeah, maybe…”
He accepts my brush-off with a kind smile and slowly steps back. “I enjoyed my night. Even if I was only a seat filler.” He winks. “Goodnight.”
I watch as he backs away. As he catches my eye at the top of the stairs. As he turns with a soft chuckle, and skips his way down four flights and through the glass front doors.
Then my eyes are drawn to Tucker’s door as it creaks open and he leans against the doorframe. He wears pyjama pants, no shirt, no socks. His hair is messy like he’s run a hand through it a million times. And those hands… hold mouthwash and a tiny cup.
Meandering forward with an arrogant swagger, he pours the mouthwash into the cup. Like he’s pouring a shot. So when he stops in front of me with a smirk, and passes the cup, I toss it back without question.