Chapter 1

PRESENT DAY

The walls of the coffin didn’t touch his shoulders, and the ceiling was only a few inches above his face, but he was blind to it. The darkness and soft lap of water echoed throughout the small chamber, and it felt infinite. It felt like there was nothing beside him, under him, above him—he was suspended in space, in silence, in darkness.

He was nothing. Nowhere. Nobody.

And it wasn’t a coffin at all.

Quinn closed his eyes and imagined the small flotation therapy tank he was lying in was actually the ocean. As if he could stretch out his arms and swim for miles. The relief was shockingly intense. The nothingness of it all calmed him in a way he’d never experienced before. His mind blank, his body nude, his senses overwhelmed and deprived at the same time.

The constant pain that had been a daily part of his life for the last five months was at bay. He’d been skeptical when Rory first told him about flotation therapy, because honestly, it sounded insane.

Float in a tank of super salty water for an hour to relieve pain, stress, and a long list of other ailments. But damn if Rory wasn’t right—an admission Quinn hated to acknowledge.

Rory was the oldest Kavanagh brother, Quinn’s senior by four years. He used to be an up-and-coming mixed martial arts fighter himself, but a nasty injury in the ring had permanently sidelined him. Apparently, flotation therapy had been really helpful during his healing process as well, at least that was how he’d convinced Quinn to dive in—sort of.

Thankfully, his brother was healed and healthy now, plus married to a pixie blonde named Clare, whose fierce personality gave Rory a run for his money. In fact, Clare had become one of Quinn’s closest friends and a great ally against his brothers at family dinners. Rory and Clare also had an adorably pudgy one-year-old son named Murphy, who was definitely Quinn’s favorite Kavanagh.

Seeing Rory’s family was the first time Quinn had ever considered settling down. He’d never been one for relationships, happily enjoying casual friendships with plenty of benefits or the occasional one-night stand. Not that he was out there getting laid every night, because he wasn’t that type of guy. He liked an emotional connection with a woman he was having sex with, even if they weren’t soulmates. Luckily, he’d found plenty of women whom he’d been able to connect with on some level over the years.

Nothing that rivaled what he was really searching for, though. His first love had knocked him on his ass so hard, he’d never really stood back up. Quinn had only ever truly given his heart to one woman, many years ago, but she hadn’t felt the same way.

That wasn’t a situation he ever wanted to relive—another reason why he kept things casual.

Quinn opened his eyes, staring into the darkness as if it would go on forever. He hadn’t thought about her in a long time, but he’d seen her…somehow. When he’d been lying on that pavement, staring up at the sun—she was there, even if only in his head.

She’d told him everything was going to be okay.

His guardian angel. Ironic, since he had always tried to be hers.

When he’d first arrived for his appointment today—courtesy of his mother, Deirdre “Dee” Kavanagh, his new chauffeur since he couldn’t walk very well, let alone drive—the nurse had given him a basic explanation of how the tank worked and told him the physical therapist would be ready to meet with him afterward. He’d then been left in a small shower right next to the tank, where he quickly scrubbed down, doing his best to hold on to the railings. He was exhausted almost immediately, which was frustrating considering he’d have to shower again the moment he was done to rinse off the salt.

Once clean, he’d hobbled to the tank, feeling his way around because it was pretty dark despite one dim, pinkish light in the corner of the room. Small earplugs they’d provided him were the only things he wore, and once he’d stepped into the salty water and lain down, the top of the tank slid closed over him and all remnants of light were gone. He’d found himself enveloped in a cave-like tank of water, soft music playing until his plugged ears dipped beneath the water’s surface into total silence.

At first, it had been a little terrifying, but once he’d adjusted to the darkness and close quarters, he’d calmed down and begun to enjoy the feeling of expansiveness all around him. The feeling of being completely enclosed yet somehow without boundaries at the same time was hypnotic.

Quinn swallowed hard, trying to squelch the emotions surging through him. For the first time, he began to feel all the parts of himself he’d held back over the last months. In this safe space, he suddenly sensed…everything. He felt everything.

For months, he hadn’t had a moment’s peace—his mother hovering, his father worrying, his four brothers dropping in every few minutes with big opinions and long-winded advice. Now in total darkness, a sense of freedom cradled him. Something he’d taken for granted most of his life, until five months ago when he’d nearly lost everything.

As the pain in his body was slowly relieved by the tank, the pain in his soul roared to life—and it was relentless.

Quinn had had small scuffs and incidents on his motorcycle before—he’d been inseparable from it since he was seventeen years old. His prized Ducati was dead now, and he’d almost been the same.

One minute he’d been driving to his parents’ house to meet Kane and head to London. The next moment, he was waking up in a hospital room, almost a week later. His mother had been by his side, and it was obvious from her unkempt hair and disheveled clothes that she hadn’t left the hospital once the entire time he’d been unconscious. His dad had been staring out the window, his demeanor just as lost as his mother’s.

When his parents realized he was conscious, they both cried as they tried to tell him what had happened. Quinn knew from that alone his condition was serious. He’d seen his mother cry a million times, even over something ridiculous like a cute puppy. But his father?

Big, bad, ex-Mafia Seamus Kavanagh didn’t cry.

Seamus didn’t show emotion of any kind, and he’d tried to raise his sons the same. Dee’s influence had kept the Kavanagh brothers from turning out as hardened as their father, but even after thirty-five years of marriage, his father had never budged.

But he had cried for Quinn, and the moment Quinn realized what that meant, he’d panicked. Air had left his lungs so fast, he couldn’t pull it back in quickly enough. Doctors and nurses had rushed in to sedate him so his flailing wouldn’t worsen his injuries. It wasn’t until hours later that he’d finally been able to hear the full story.

The burns and road rash had been the worst; he’d spent the first two weeks with doctors grafting new skin onto his back and legs. Whenever the doctors and nurses had changed his bandages or touched his skin in any way, he’d been certain he would die right then and there. The pain was so intense that he’d actually passed out a few times during the first several bandage changes. The leather had protected a lot of his body, but even that was no match for the speed with which he had been thrown from his bike.

Add to that a concussion.

A fractured wrist.

Internal bleeding.

A removed spleen.

A leg broken in three places.

Six metal pins now a permanent part of that leg.

And too many bruises and scrapes to even try to count.

Five months later his bones had healed, but his muscles were weak. His cuts and scrapes were gone, but ugly scars had taken their place. Tattoos he’d once had were now missing or distorted. Every piercing had been removed during initial exams, and he’d yet to put them back in.

He was like an entirely different person.

He used a cane for support even though the bones in his leg were healed, but that was far better than the brace he’d had to wear for so many months. His doctor had given him the green light to start physical therapy since his breaks had healed, and today was his first visit. If all he had to do was float in this tank, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he’d feared. But Quinn wanted to grow stronger. He was itching to regain what he’d lost.

Quinn wanted to be back on a bike and riding—although the idea was frightening, something it had never been before. He wanted to walk around unassisted and dodge the worried looks from everyone in his family. He wanted to get in the cage and spar with his brothers just for fun. Even though he’d never been a professional mixed martial arts fighter like they were, sparring was still something he’d grown up doing, and he enjoyed it.

But everything was off-limits for him now, and he hated that.

He hated feeling helpless. He hated having to depend on his mother as if he was a child again. He hated how his brothers treated him with kid gloves. He hated that he’d ruined a huge moment in Kane’s career. Kane had dropped out of one of the biggest fights in the world because Quinn was his agent and brother, and Quinn had been unconscious and laid up in a hospital bed, which meant Kane insisted on being with him, instead of in the cage.

The guilt still ate away at Quinn all these months later. Everyone in his family had told him not to feel that way. They’d all told him to focus on his recovery, but the guilt remained.

He thought of all those things and more in the dark, cavernous tank as the salt water rocked him ever so gently. Though the relief he felt from the water was overwhelming, the emotions he’d been ignoring since the accident were all-consuming.

And it was too much.

A tear escaped and slid down into the water beneath him as he lay on his back squeezing his eyes shut. It took only seconds before the rest of them followed—slow, steady, true. For the first time in years, at twenty-seven years old, Quinn let himself cry.

He needed the release from his inner suffering just as much as he’d needed this therapy to relieve his physical aches and pains. His heart pounded hard in his chest, and he could hear its beat in his ears. It was only a few tears, a small purging of emotions he’d held back for so long, but it was enough. Inhaling slowly and deeply, he let himself relax. He let himself feel.

He needed…something, but what that was, he didn’t know.

Maybe he needed a change—his life had to change.

He’d nearly died, and there were so many things he’d kept hidden from his family, and the entire world. He’d always done what he should do. He’d been who he should be. But he’d never done what he wanted to do, or been who he wanted to be. Nor even told anyone that.

As his pain flowed away with the last of his few tears, he made a new resolve to live differently. To live the life he wanted—even if he didn’t know exactly what that was yet.

“Hello?”

A bright light suddenly fell on him and cold air hit his tearstained face. He blinked his eyes open to see the only woman he’d ever loved staring down at him.

“Hello…oh. Quinn?”

You have got to be kidding me. He didn’t say anything, his voice refusing to find itself as he quickly pushed up into a seated position in the tank, yanking out his earplugs and wiping any evidence of his previous emotions from his face. The room was fully lit, and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness. His heart immediately began pounding against his rib cage and his stomach had started doing somersaults the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

Well, this is awkward as shit. What is she even doing here?

“Um, we beeped that the session was ending, and when you didn’t come out…” Kiera Finley’s fair skin blushed bright red as she stared at him, wide-eyed. “I just wanted to come check on you. Well, I didn’t know it was you, but now that I know it’s you, should I leave? Is this weird? This is weird. I’ll go. Wait, are you okay? Why’s your face all red? Was it hot in there? What are you even doing here? Are you hurt? Should I go? I should go. Wait…were you crying?” she asked again, her words tumbling out so fast he could barely decipher them.

Quinn’s back was to her, but he’d turned his head to face her as he blinked slowly, trying to register the onslaught of questions flying past her pretty pink lips. She was messing with a wisp of strawberry-blond hair that had fallen out of her bun, the expression on her face as shocked as he felt.

Memories of when they were kids surfaced. She’d always rambled when she was nervous—apparently, the trait had stuck over the years, since Kiera was definitely all woman now. And still rambling. Her light blue eyes peered at him, and even in the dim light, they were as translucent and luminous as he remembered.

“Keeks?” Is it really her? Or is my mind playing tricks again?

She swallowed, and he followed the movement of her neck before she nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.” Her voice barely above a whisper now.

He didn’t drop his gaze, and their eyes connected in a way that made his heart feel broken and healed all at the same time. “Don’t go.” Please, stay.

She swallowed again, and Quinn wasn’t sure what was going through her mind—or his. She was here, and all he knew was he did not want her to go.

Not now. Not after what she’d seen, what they’d been, what he felt…If there was one thing he knew, it was that right now in this moment, he needed her there. He wasn’t sure why, but he did.

“Um…yeah, okay.” She kneeled down next to the tank, draping one arm over the edge. “Are you feeling o— Oh fudge, you are very naked. Of course you would be. I see naked people all the time. This is so normal. So…normal.”

Quinn laughed, and damn, it felt good. The happy sensation was so surprising that he laughed again, harder this time. He’d forgotten how hilarious she could be without even trying, how often she rambled when she was nervous, or her aversion to cussing that had made her that much more irresistible all those years ago.

Kiera flushed and sat back on her heels. “It wasn’t that funny,” she huffed.

He moved to stand, but his legs gave way and he fell back into the water with a loud splash. He winced, missing the soothing peace he’d felt only moments earlier. Pain vibrated up and down his legs, and he exhaled slowly in an attempt to breathe through it.

“Quinn!” she gasped, reaching for his arm to steady him.

His skin heated under her fingers, and he turned to see the worry on her face. “I might need a little help here, Keeks. Looks like I’m all loosened up from the water.”

“No one’s called me that in years,” she mused, a small smile on her face.

“I’d hope not,” he replied, happy to hear that. “That’s mine.”

Her tongue slid across her bottom lip as her long lashes fluttered. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

She was truly as beautiful as he remembered, even more beautiful all grown up. He’d first fallen in love with her when they were children—she’d punched his younger brother, Jimmy, in the face when he’d stolen her ball and then told their parents he’d punched her instead. Jimmy had gotten grounded, and Kiera had gotten ice cream.

And Quinn had fallen in love.

She was three years younger than him, so he had refused to act on his feelings, but he’d become her best friend and bodyguard. When Jenny Thompson had called Kiera fat in fifth grade, he’d convinced his younger cousin, Casey, to scare some sense into Jenny. When Manny Allen had tried to kiss her at freshman homecoming, despite her many objections, Manny had spent the rest of the dance locked in a broom closet. When actor Chad Michael Murray never responded to Kiera’s fangirl letters after she’d plastered his picture all over her bedroom walls, Quinn had sent the actor his own letter telling him to go fuck himself for hurting his Keeks.

That was the nickname he’d given her when he was a toddler, never having been able to pronounce her name much differently than his brother Kieran’s name. Their mothers were close friends, so she’d been around his siblings all the time and it was just confusing. So his brother was Kieran, and she was Keeks.

At least, she had been up until their last night together.

“Are there any towels in here?” she asked. “I can help you out, but we should probably cover all…” She made sweeping motions with her hands, indicating his chest and lower body. “All of…well…the, uh, goods…I mean, the man parts.”

“I left the towel in the shower,” he told her, eager for this part of their exchange to be over. He had never been shy about his body before, but his newly acquired scars made him want to cover himself. He’d worked hard on his physique all his life, and he was damn proud of everything he was sporting below the metaphorical belt. That she could look at all she wanted—hell, he’d encourage her to.

Kiera nibbled her bottom lip, purposefully avoiding looking at him, but taking quick peeks that were unbelievably obvious. “I should go grab that then.”

“Don’t be shy, Keeks.” Quinn chuckled, hoping his scars weren’t the focus of her gaze. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

The blush on her cheeks went so dark it extended down her neck and flamed to her chest—the Irish in her blood like a red flag. “You remember that night, huh?”

She offered her hand to help steady him as he got to his feet and leaned on the tank’s edge. The pain in his legs swelled at first, but then slowly dissipated as he breathed through it. When he stood, his hands on both of her shoulders so he wouldn’t tip over, he found himself pausing for a moment to stare at her.

She looked down to avoid his eyes, but that meant she was staring directly at his fully erect manhood instead.

He couldn’t help it, being this close to her. He was still a man standing in front of a gorgeous woman, after all.

Kiera’s eyes widened, and she quickly looked up at the ceiling instead. “Oh, goodness, so much naked.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he teased, hobbling toward the shower with an arm over her shoulder for balance. Despite the fact that his body wanted her, there wasn’t a chance in hell he was about to make a move on her or anything like that.

Burn him once, shame on her. Burn him twice? He wasn’t about to take that risk.

“What are you even doing here, Keeks?” It finally dawned on him that it was more than a little strange she was there.

In his flotation tank chamber.

After years apart.

While he was naked. So much naked, as she’d specified.

“I’m studying for my DPT—doctor of physical therapy. I’m working here as part of the program.”

Quinn’s brows lifted and he stared down at her. “No shit? You’re a doctor now?”

He wasn’t surprised. She’d always been so much smarter than he was, and she’d had big dreams of helping people. Meanwhile, he’d been chasing money for the last ten years of his life as an agent to big-name mixed martial arts talent, helping them make their careers and line his pockets.

That wasn’t all he did, of course, but no one knew about his hobby, and he planned on keeping it that way.

“Well, not really. Technically, physical therapists don’t have the ‘doctor’ title.” Kiera shrugged, but pride was evident on her face. Then the blush crept back in. “Though you are my patient for now, actually.”

Quinn chuckled as they reached the shower and he gripped the railings provided. “That’s going to be interesting.”

An understatement, for sure.

She didn’t move, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she stared at him. Seriously, the woman couldn’t take her eyes off him. It was doing all sorts of things for his ego…until he saw her eyes dart to his legs with pity showing on her face.

He hated pity. He’d seen enough of it the last few months and he wanted none of it. “Keeks, unless doctors help patients shower now—which I’d be all for—maybe you should go.”

She blinked in surprise, her pale, piercing eyes meeting his. The blush in her cheeks returned, or maybe it had never left. “Oh, right. Sorry. I’ll be out there if you need me.” She pointed toward the door. “We’ll be doing some exercises together today after an initial exam.”

He nodded, turning on the water and grabbing a small bottle of shampoo provided on an inset shelf. “Hey, Keeks?”

Her hand was on the door when she paused, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

“I could never forget that night.”

The tremor that slid through her body was visible as they were only a few feet apart. She continued staring straight ahead at the door, but nodded, understanding. And then she was gone. Slipping out quickly and quietly, saying nothing.

Just like she’d done six years ago when she’d broken his heart.