Chapter 10

I started running with Killian in the mornings. Well, sorta. We’d run for a while together, then he’d take me back to his place when I thought I might die. In my defense, I’d have breakfast waiting for him when he returned from his “real run,” as he called it.

He was trying not to laugh at me when he drove us to the gym one morning. It wasn’t working. “So what if I had to carry you? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re getting better, faster, lasting longer than you used to.”

“It wouldn’t have been as embarrassing if Mrs. O’Hara hadn’t seen you carrying me.”

“I told you to pretend you’d tripped.”

“I wasn’t going to lie to an old lady.” I covered my face, knowing I probably should have.

“Is that how you young’uns lure the boys to bed, Sofia?” Killian said, trying to imitate her Irish accent.

“Oh, God,” I buried my face deeper.

“Excellent strategy, m’dear. I can see that it worked.”

“I can’t believe she said that!” Or how she’d given Killian the once-over following a very approving nod. I’d heard Mrs. O’Hara was a snarky old biddy, but I’d never been subjected to her scrutiny. I dropped my hands to my sides when he continued to laugh. “It’s not funny. She attends mass with my mother.”

Killian pulled into the back lot. “Is that so bad? Your mother knows you’ve been staying with me.”

“Knowing I’m with you is one thing.” Which she wasn’t the least bit thrilled with. “Hearing our exploits from another source is something entirely different.”

“There was no exploiting.” He chuckled. “Unless you count what we did back at my house.”

I groaned, surprised yet eternally grateful that Mrs. O’Hara hadn’t tried peering through the window.

“Don’t sweat it, Sofia. Mrs. O’Hara could have seen a lot worse.”

Oh, yeah. True dat.

I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for my laptop. Killian lifted it from my grasp. “Here. I got it.” He laughed when he caught the humiliation continuing to heat my face. He considered me for a moment. “Teo used to be out all the time. Your mother knew what he was doing and who he was doing it with.”

“It’s different for men—especially in the Latino culture, and especially when you consider how traditional my mother is.”

He tickled my chin. “You saying you’re regretting our time together?”

He knew the answer to that. I could tell by the softness in his smile. “You know I don’t.”

“Then come here and show me.”

His arm hooked around my shoulders when I inched closer, pulling me to him. Our kiss, like our time in the bedroom, quickly became heated. I edged away when I heard Finn approach in his Mustang. “Finn’s here.”

“Mmm-hmm.” His mouth found that spot behind my ear that never failed to make my eyelids flutter.

“Honey…it’s time to work,” I told him.

Killian groaned and slumped back. “Yeah. S’pose it is.” He watched me for a beat. “Your mother gets back from Boston tonight, doesn’t she?”

“Yes. Sometime around dinner.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay with her?”

“I was planning on it. Why?”

“Maybe you should think about staying with me again.”

I considered his offer. But as tempting as it was, I wasn’t so sure I should spend the night again. The church group for seniors my mother was now involved in had been traveling quite a bit lately. It took a lot of convincing for her to join, but now that she had, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Niagara Falls had been the first trip, Boston had quickly followed. Cape Cod was coming up, but that wasn’t for another week. She didn’t have to worry about my father anymore. And with Teo’s business doing so well, he made sure she could finally go to all the places she’d wanted to visit. “I should be with her tonight. Make sure she’s okay.”

“All right. It’s just not going to be the same in my house without you.” He paused as if debating what to say and how much to admit. “I like you with me.”

Disappointment clouded his perfect features. And it killed me! I’d been dreading my mother’s return, knowing it would mean less time at Killian’s place. But I’ll admit, it felt good to know I’d be missed. As attentive as Killian was, sometimes a girl needed to hear that she mattered. “I like being with you, too,” I told him.

“But you won’t stay with me tonight.”

“I should go home.” He waited a moment before nodding. He understood, but he didn’t seem any happier. I began to slip out of his truck when I stole one last glance his way. “You know, maybe I’d be a better runner if I got more sleep,” I mused.

The corners of his lips curved into a sexy grin. “Hard to let you sleep when I see you lying naked next to me.”

I knew what he meant, but I shimmied out of his truck without telling him. He recognized as much when he caught my blush.

Killian passed me my computer bag when we reached the front of the gym. I waited for him and Finn to open the metal gates then hurried inside. The overhead lights were just flickering on when I was already halfway to his office. “What’s the rush, baby?”

“Phone interview. I have to be ready,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Phone interview?”

“Yes, Killian.”

“With who?”

“Epic Sports.”

“Did I know about this?”

I cleared my throat. “I told you last night.”

“When?”

I so didn’t want to have this conversation with Finn there. “Ah, before bed—before we went to sleep—yes, before sleeping.” Son of a gun. Sometimes I could have slapped myself senseless.

Finn started laughing. Of course he did. It didn’t take a genius to realize we hadn’t gone right to sleep. Killian laughed, too. “Right. It’s coming back to me…sort of.”

I opened up my laptop as he strolled in. “Remind me again why you need to talk to them.”

“I’m trying to get you some free gym equipment—treadmills, weight training devices, benches, the kind of macho thingies you like.”

“Macho thingies?” He scratched his head at my nod. “I remember that much, but I never asked you why.”

I answered a quick email as we continued our conversation. “Why what?”

“Why the hell they’d give me free equipment. They’re not sponsoring me for the fight.”

“But they might. They saw how many followers you have on Twitter and are thinking about hooking you up in exchange for a few shout-outs.”

“Twitter?” He scowled. “You’re messing with me, right?”

My fingers swept over my laptop as I responded to an email from a promo company wanting Killian to autograph some posters for his upcoming match. “I told you I was going to set up a Twitter account and a Facebook page for you.”

“I thought you were kidding.”

I blinked back at him. “Why would I joke over something as important as this?”

“This isn’t important.”

“Of course it is! You’re running a business. Social media is a part of it.” I crossed my arms when he continued to frown. “You said, and I quote, ‘I don’t have time for this shit, Sofia—you handle it.’ So I did.”

Finn came in, grinning. “You said ‘shit.’ ”

And yeah, there was my blush, again. I didn’t make a habit of swearing. The one percent of nun that remained in me didn’t approve. Finn snagged a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and then hopped back out, laughing.

I cleared my throat when Killian’s stone face hardened. “You already have fifty-nine thousand followers on Twitter and almost thirty-nine thousand likes on Facebook.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I posted a picture of you on all the MMA pages advertising your upcoming match and provided your links. MMA is huge—you should see the traffic those sites get.”

“Which picture?”

“Huh?” I’d heard him. I just didn’t want to answer.

Something he caught in my expression eased the severity of his voice. “Which picture of me did you post? The professional ones I had taken are too old now. I know you didn’t use those.”

“The one I took of you a few weeks ago when you were sparring.” And sweating, and when your shorts had slipped oh-so-perfectly just below your hips, I clearly didn’t say. I also didn’t admit that most of his likes and followers were women who were probably inappropriately touching themselves to that picture—mostly because I didn’t want him mad…and because I knew that I was probably right.

“Sofia, I don’t want to twitter.”

“Tweet,” I corrected.

“Whatever. It’s not something I do.”

“I’m doing it for you.” I adjusted my position and was pulling in my chair when Killian came around, appearing oddly amused.

“You’re pretending to be me?”

I played with my hair. “Someone has to if you won’t.”

He leaned closer and slipped his arm around me. “What are you saying when you’re doing all that pretending?”

“Nothing bad.”

“No swearing?”

He laughed when I narrowed my eyes. Killian once told me I looked “cute when I was trying to be all mad.” I hadn’t taken it as a compliment.

“You said you’re pretending to be me. I do have a mouth on me.”

I flattened out my long floral skirt. “If you’re just dying to know, I mostly provide motivational commentary—like what you tell your students.” I opened the program I’d been developing and pretended to start my work with the hope he would move on.

Not only did he not move on, his fingertips lingered along my ribs, tickling my side. “Anyone talking back to me?” My flaming-red cheeks answered for me. “Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Some guys asking for workout tips and…stuff,” I stammered.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And stuff? What stuff?” he pressed.

Of course he was going to make things difficult for me. “I refer them to your website, where I spell out some basic tips for getting into shape.”

His fingers trailed downward to the small patch of exposed skin between my red top and my long skirt. “Tips? You’re giving out tips?”

My typing slowed to a stop. We’d fooled around when we woke up, but when he saw what I was wearing following his shower, round two had quickly followed.

His fingers grew more playful, making my voice squeak when I attempted to form a decent response. “I emphasize cutting carbs and choosing a healthier lifestyle in general.”

He pushed my hair aside, baring my shoulder. “So you like my…lifestyle?”

His warm breath made it easy to forget where I was and hard to keep my mind on the conversation. “Yes. It’s nice, um, good.”

“Good?” he rasped.

“Yes.” Oh, sweet heavens, yes.

“So you’re spilling my deep dark secrets for getting into shape all over the Internet?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that…even though I know what you eat since I’m, um, the one feeding you. Now that your fight’s approaching, you pound protein, green leafy veggies, and only ever drink water.” I needed a second when his fingers lingered and his lips found that sweet spot on my neck. “One peanut M and M at night is your big treat.”

“Not my only big treat.” He flicked his tongue over my skin. “What else do you know about me?”

“I, ah, also know how much you run…for how long…and the type of cardio and…and weight training you do.”

“Do you?” he murmured, nipping a little.

I tried not to moan and failed miserably. “Yes…I watch you.” Okay, maybe “gawk” was a more appropriate word. “It’s brought more hits to your new website,” I told him. At least I tried to, anyway. Good Lord, that mouth of his.

Killian pulled me closer. “I see. Anyone else talking to me?”

Knowing what he was really asking then was the proverbial cold shower my body needed to hurl me back into reality. I stiffened and shrugged out of his hold. “Children seem to admire you.” My tone was a little sharp. Who was I kidding? It could have punctured meat at that moment.

A smile eased along his face. “Kids, huh?”

I opened the drawer, scanning through the files I’d created to keep physical copies of his records. Killian’s hand cupped my backside as I found what I was looking for. I tried not to react. That was how round one had started in his bed. We were both exhausted, but the skin-on-skin contact had perked us right up.

His hand kneaded slowly. “Any other followers I should know about? Dog lovers, electricians, maybe a rocket scientist or two?”

He was going to make me say it. “Women find you…attractive and have given you compliments.” I didn’t mention #SweetAssIdLikeToSuck was among the many popular hashtags his fans used to tag him. I cleared my throat. “I thank them on your behalf.”

“Is that so?” He was really smiling then. “Ever give them any compliments back—on my behalf, I mean?”

“What do you think?” I snapped, smacking his hand away when he gave my butt a squeeze.

Killian threw back his head, laughing. “Come on, princess. I’m only messing with you.”

“Sure you are. And aren’t you just hilarious.” I grabbed my purse and stormed out.

“Sofia—wait. Where you going?”

I didn’t answer him and stomped out the door. Jealousy had reared its ugly head. I knew what it was and I knew I should ignore it. And maybe I could have if it weren’t for the sick amount of women who tweeted naked and highly suggestive shots of themselves to Killian’s attention. The last few women—Holy Heavens, the image of their naked butt pyramid would forever be burned into my retinas—accompanied their oh-so-classy crotch shots with: Something for your wallet, @PhillysKillianOBrien, LOL.

It took all I had not to reply: You’re all sluts, LOL.

Your mamas didn’t raise you right, LOL.

But no, I hadn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t. These were Killian’s fans after all, however diseased they might be.

I tore my way down the block. It wasn’t until I crossed the street and reached the coffee place that my pace slowed. The more I did to promote Killian, the more I became aware of his epic and instantaneous popularity. Women, like, wanted him. Men wanted to be him. But it all seemed to be for the wrong reasons.

“What can I get you?” the teen behind the counter asked.

“Large iced tea, please,” I answered.

I texted my contact at Epic Sports to reschedule the meeting for this afternoon, but my mind remained on my interaction with Killian. I hoped that he was simply teasing me about his admirers. I also hoped he realized that unlike his groupies on Twitter and Facebook, I recognized that there was more to him than his looks.

I had loved Killian before he’d grown into his hulking size, and long before those muscles first flexed.

Yeah, you could say that I loved him on the inside first.

I took a sip of my tea before heading out, hoping it would cool my temper and let me focus on what needed to be done. His fan club wasn’t around to help him. But I was. And insecurities racking my brain or not, I would do my best.

As I was leaving the shop, I caught sight of Norman Kessler being pushed in his wheelchair by his caregiver. For the first time in years, he seemed to react, appearing to break out of his typically limited state.

His head lolled in my direction, then back and forth, slow at first, then really fast, like an animal trapped in a box and struggling to break free. The motions seemed painful, but that didn’t stop Norman. What was even more disturbing were the gurgling sounds from deep within his throat. Was this poor man getting worse? I took a chance and approached. “Hi, Norman.”

His head shook harder while his vacant expression turned toward the sky. “He’s very agitated today, miss,” his caregiver said apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” I responded.

The caregiver nodded, but said nothing more. Instead he simply continued on. I watched him push Norman away. While he was pleasant and cordial, he seemed unusually detached given the debilitated state his patient was in. I supposed Norman’s condition made him hard to bond with.

I turned to leave, almost smacking into Killian in my haste to return to the gym. He grabbed me by the shoulders to steady me, but not before shooting a glare in Norman’s direction. “You okay?”

My attention bounced between him and Norman. For some reason, Killian seemed to resent Norman and I couldn’t grasp why. Norman couldn’t hurt a soul.

Before I could question him, he told me something that sent every hair on my body standing on end. “Your brother just showed. He says he wants to fight me.”