Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brooklyn
Just don’t think about the kissing, or the sex, or the kissing during sex.
That was Tuesday morning’s mantra for getting through the day without broadcasting the fact that Shane and I had crossed into more over the weekend. With a sharp nod to assure my resolve I had it under control, I pulled open the door and stepped into the gym. Over the past few days I’d taken Liam up on his advice to take some time off to paint, and after my night with Shane, my spark was back. Figuring there were enough spare people in the gym over the weekend, I started my project Saturday afternoon, worked on it most of Sunday, and nearly finished it last night. A few finishing touches and it’d be done. It’d been a long time since I’d gone start to finish on a painting that quickly.
Immersing myself in my art, from the big picture to the small details, had been exactly what I needed. Minutes turned into hours and then I would suddenly look up, bleary eyed, to find it dark outside. The next day I’d wake up eager to hit it again. I’d been tempted to take off one more day because I’d been in the zone, but the work I’d put off was growing by the day and my time to do it was shrinking just as quickly.
While I’d been recharging my creative batteries, the guys had been hard at work doing hours of grueling training. I received occasional texts during Shane’s mini breaks, and while I felt bad he wouldn’t really get a day off until after his fight, I couldn’t argue with the results. Not the ridiculously ripped body or his endurance—he most definitely hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d claimed it wasn’t something he had a problem with.
My gaze snagged on the very guy I’d been thinking about. He was shirtless, sweaty, and running on a treadmill, every muscle working and moving in tandem with the other. My eyes revolted against moving on, and then my brain went and did exactly what I’d told it not to. I relived the feel of his lips claiming mine, his callused fingertips dragging across my skin, his powerful body moving over me. Suddenly I felt like I was running those miles right along with him.
He glanced up, and I did a crappy job of holding back my smile. I bit my lip, and he stumbled. He gripped the handles and recovered, and I smothered my laugh.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Liam and quickly forced my attention to my desk, trying to fake my way into making myself excited to get back to balancing books and all the invoicing fun awaiting me.
After a few days of painting, my body protested at the thought of sitting in front of a computer all day instead of working magic on a canvas. My family should be in favor of my getting closer to Shane, because right now, he was my main motivation to show up at work.
Since I couldn’t admit it, I settled in.
Liam slowed near my desk, and I was sure I was busted for checking out Shane. “How was your long weekend?” he asked, and my hello, I’m not a robot, so yeah, I sometimes slip and check out fighters comment died on my lips.
He probably thought I’d spent the majority of it with my boyfriend. I’d meant to come clean, but letting them assume I was still with Trey would help shift suspicion away from Shane and me being more than friends-ish. “I spent most of it painting, and it was glorious. Taking time off to do that was probably the best advice you’ve ever given me, so thanks.” All true, too, so bonus!
The genuine grin that didn’t show up as often these days curved his lips. “Good. I’m glad it helped. And Trey? He seemed pretty upset when you guys left here on Friday.”
I gave a non-committal head wobble. “It didn’t exactly win me any points.” There. Now it wouldn’t be a huge surprise when I eventually admitted we weren’t together anymore.
Liam glanced at Shane, still sprinting away on the treadmill. “Knox orchestrated that whole mess, egging him on like that. I figured you’d be mad at him.”
“I was.” But then he gave me multiple mind-blowing orgasms and all was forgiven. “I’m over it.”
“Can you hold on to it? I need him to focus on something besides you.”
Talk about exaggeration—we hadn’t seen each other for days. “And you think me giving him dirty looks will help him focus?”
“I think…” He exhaled. “We really need him to win his fight.”
Shit. Guilt bubbled up inside of me, and just when I thought I’d finally parted ways with the sucky emotion. Pressure mixed in to add another layer to the heaviness pressing against my chest. If I chase one more guy off the team, they’ll be begging me to leave instead of the other way around. I’ll become the Yoko Ono of Team Domination.
While a month ago I could’ve mostly not cared, now it would hurt if they celebrated my departure. I wouldn’t blame them, either. They worked so hard, putting in long hours for meager pay, and they had a lot riding on each fighter and bout. “I want him to win, I swear. And if there’s anything I can do…”
Liam ran a hand through his hair, but it was getting long enough that it fell right back around his eyes. “How do you feel about wearing a Mumu?”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that,” I said, fighting back a smile so he didn’t go thinking he was hilarious.
“What? You and Finn are the only people in this family who get to make jokes?”
I tossed a mechanical pencil at his head, and he dodged and laughed. Then his expression turned serious, the way he wore it too often these days.
“How far are you on the books?” he asked.
“I’m about to start combing through last month’s ledger instead of dwelling in two-or-three-months-ago territory. Another week, week and a half, and I should at least be starting the current month.”
“Have you found any outstanding invoices from people who owe us money? Preferably large sums of it.”
I grimaced. “Like one or two tiny ones, but there are a lot more outstanding invoices on our end.” There were also those figures that didn’t add up, which reminded me that I needed to see if any of those vendors had answered the emails I’d sent last week from the accounting address. I didn’t want to bring it up before I had solid information, since that would only stress Liam out more.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Do you want me to cut some checks for the invoices? Or I can pay them online since it’s easi—”
“We’ll worry about that once we’re caught up. I’m dealing with the bills for all the things that we can’t train without.” He tapped the desk. “I better get back to work.”
“You know your advice to me about taking some time off to do what you love? You might want to take it and apply it to yourself.”
His return smile was way too forced. “This gym, training, and fighting is what I love. Why would I need time off from that?”
Apparently he’d meant it rhetorically, because he walked away before I could give him an answer. Finn had told me they needed my help to dig out of a mess, but the deeper I went, the messier things looked. Add in the stress constantly coming off Liam, and I worried that I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.
…
Thursday evening, I wandered into Dad’s office and opened the mini-fridge he kept chock-full of electrolyte- and protein-heavy drinks. I’d recently taken to sticking a couple of Mountain Dews inside so when my caffeine drip ran low, I could come recharge my supply and eke out another hour or so of work before crashing.
My palm had just wrapped around a cool can, my mouth already anticipating the syrupy goodness awaiting me, when I heard someone step inside the room.
I glanced over my shoulder to find a freshly-showered Shane, and a whole different kind of anticipation took control of my body. A jolt traveled down my core, much stronger than any buzz I could get from caffeine.
He gave me the same look a hungry cougar would give a deer, and my heart screeched into action. When it came to fight or flight with this guy, I was all about the fight—preferably while naked.
“Are we alone?” I asked. The past few days it’d been impossible to find time to see each other. We’d exchanged texts and a few stolen kisses that only left me sexually frustrated and wanting more.
Without a word, he stalked toward me.
A few long strides and his mouth was on mine, his firm body pinning me against the wall. I wadded his T-shirt in my hands, ensuring he wouldn’t get away. “Plot twist”—I sucked his bottom lip between mine and lightly bit it—“the predator becomes the prey.”
Shane dipped his head and licked a trail across my collarbone. “You won’t be saying that after I devour you.”
“Bring it.”
He gripped a fistful of my hair and jerked my head aside. Then he placed rough kisses on my neck and jaw before thrusting his tongue into my mouth and stroking it in a savage rhythm that awoke my carnal side and lured it to come out and play. “Tap out if it gets to be too much.”
I reached around, slipped my hands down the back of his shorts and squeezed his ass as I brought him tighter against me. “Right back at you.”
Shane boosted me into his arms, and I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist. He spun and placed me on the desk, then wedged himself between my thighs and reclaimed my mouth. His hands dragged up my sides and then moved to cup my breasts over a bra that so needed to go.
“Brooklyn? You here?” Dad’s voice broke through the sound of our kisses and heavy breathing.
“Shit,” I said as Shane dropped an F-bomb.
“I saw your car in the parking lot when I drove by, and I don’t like you being here this late at night all by yourself.”
Something told me he wouldn’t feel any better about me being here this late not alone. I leaped off the desk and straightened my clothes the best I could before turning to grab the soda I’d left on top of the mini-fridge.
I prayed Shane had made an equal move, one that wouldn’t make us appear as guilty as we were.
Dad rounded the corner, and I shot him a big smile. “Oh, hey. I was just grabbing a soda and Shane came in to give me crap about how bad it is for me.” I cracked open the tab, took a gulp big enough to burn my nose and throat, and then gave an exaggerated, “mmm.”
Dad glanced from me to Shane, who’d somehow made it around the other side of the desk, thank goodness. He slowly turned to face Dad, and I couldn’t help discreetly checking to see if the raging erection he’d had pressed against me had calmed down. A relieved breath fell from my lips—the situation was under control.
“Yeah, I heard her in here grabbing the sugary death drink, and thought I’d let her know I was about to leave, and so should she, for the exact reason you pointed out. I didn’t want her to be here alone.”
“He’s always insisting we leave together,” I said, and then panicked it sounded bad and Dad was going to discover we’d crossed so many lines—a few of them in this very office—and oh, holy crap. “I mean, leave out the back door together to go to different places, obviously…” I inwardly smacked my palm against my forehead. Shane’s widened eyes asked me why I hadn’t stopped talking already. I didn’t bother sending a look back, because I had no earthly clue. “I was also thinking of grabbing Chinese for dinner, so I was asking him if Mai’s is still the best spot for that.”
I hoped Shane would read between the lines. I’ll meet you there, we’ll grab dinner, then we’ll go to your place and continue the devouring, both of food and bodies.
“It is,” Dad said, “and I’m starving. Come on, I’ll take you both to dinner. My treat.”
I couldn’t imagine a more stressful scenario, and I assumed this would be where Shane made his excuses and bowed out. But Dad didn’t give him the chance. He clapped him hard on the back, and I tried to figure out if that meant he knew Shane’s tongue had just been doing very wicked things to mine. Were we busted? Did he want to murder one of us? Or possibly both of us?
“It’s been a hard week,” Dad said, his fingers curling around Shane’s shoulder. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
Shane glanced at me, and where there should be a hell no, this can’t happen expression like the one I wore, amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sounds good.”