He knew he couldn’t wait another day; he had tried his best to resist the urge to steal every part of her body and make it his. Gazing at her glistening green eyes, perfect small nose, and pouty rose lips, he knew he couldn’t contain himself a minute longer.
Leaning down while keeping hold of her focus, he let his lips graze hers for a moment. Just a soft pass, as if asking her for permission to continue. The moan that escaped her at the contact was all the approval he needed.
Snaking one hand behind her waist and pulling her toward him, he slid his other hand behind her head. Dipping down, his lips found hers and the two moved together as if they had kissed a thousand times before.
They seemed to understand each other’s movements and wants immediately, as if they had been molded just for each other and once they found each other, no one else would ever fit again.
It might have been only seconds long, or maybe hours. Rory couldn’t tell. He was completely lost in what felt like the first kiss of his entire life, which it certainly wasn’t. He felt renewed, like something had changed in him at a core level. As if he was becoming something new. Or maybe he was finally letting free the man he had always been, but had kept hidden from the world.
Either way, he loved it, and when he finally pulled away from her, it was too soon. A small whine left her lips from the loss of contact, telling him she felt the same way.
“Come on, let’s get you home before I really lose control.” He grabbed her hand and started across the street.
“Yes, sir.” She giggled, trying to keep up with his fast pace.
He moaned at the sound. “Clare…” Everything about her calling him sir was really pushing his limits. “That is not helping.”
She just laughed in response and he was sure he could feel it sweep through every part of himself. Her laughter had its own beat, its own music that strummed through his veins. Rory tried to clear his head as they rounded the corner, approaching her apartment building.
“Thanks for walking me home again. I really appreciate it.” She paused. “I had to scrap my car today. Mechanics said it was cheaper just to buy a new one, so I sold the piece of crap for parts.” Her voice went back to normal, pretending that they hadn’t just had a very intimate moment together.
“That officially makes you a New Yorker. No one around here drives.”
“I kind of like the sound of that.”
She seemed to be a million miles away in her head and he wished she would take him with her. He wanted to explore every part of her and learn everything that made her the woman before him. He could see that whatever the problem was, she clearly didn’t want to talk about it. He figured he had pried enough for the night.
“This is me.” They reached the front of her apartment building a few moments later and she pulled her keys out of her jacket pocket.
Rory grabbed the keys out of her hand and opened the door for her, holding it in place by leaning against it. She stepped through, then turned around as he handed her back her keys. She paused, seeming unsure of what she wanted to say, or if she wanted to say it, so he stayed quiet and waited.
“Rory?” Her voice was soft and her expression had a sadness to it while she fiddled with her keys.
“Yes, mhuirnín?” He smiled at her, still leaning against the open door.
“Losing to Santiago wasn’t a failure. Losing yourself to alcohol is.” She spoke softly as she took a step toward him and pushed up on the tip of her toes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
He was surprised at her words as the door closed between them. He stepped back onto the sidewalk where Ace was waiting for him, then headed home, repeating her words in his head the entire way. His expression was troubled, as she made him feel emotions he had spent many years locking away. He sighed, knowing that Clare was probably right.
What bothered him the most was the disappointment he had seen in her eyes. It was a look that he had seen dozens of times from friends and family, but something about seeing it on Clare hurt more. She was different and made him feel different.
Something was changing in him. Clare was changing him, and yet it felt familiar. It felt safe, like he had known her all his life. He knew almost nothing about her, but with every conversation it was as if he was remembering something he had long ago forgotten. He found himself wanting to remember who he was, and he had a feeling that he could do that only through her eyes.
Chapter 6
Clare’s hand shot out from under the covers as she fumbled around for her phone on her nightstand. The alarm was blaring, begging to be silenced. Whining when she couldn’t find the right button, she pushed herself up into a seated position and finally shut off the hellish device.
“What the hell happened last night?” Clare said out loud to nobody as she dropped her phone into her lap.
Closing her eyes, she realized that she couldn’t wipe the giant, goofy smile off her face. She had gone to bed smiling last night after Rory dropped her off, and she was still smiling hours later. Leaning back against the headboard, she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them.
She was happy, and it terrified her.
This isn’t what she had moved to New York for. She hadn’t wanted a relationship. She hadn’t wanted to meet a man who made her heart beat out of her chest every time he showed up in the same room as her. Rory Kavanagh was not part of her plans, yet now he was part of her life.
And he had kissed her.
That kiss.
She exhaled loudly, feeling heat surge through her just at the memory. She couldn’t deny it, she had let him in further than anyone else had been in years, maybe ever. He intrigued her and made her feel special, as if she was worth something. Travis Creighton, her ex-boyfriend, had done the exact opposite. She hugged her knees harder at the thought and checked the clock on her wall.
Seeing the time, she tossed the covers off and scooted out of bed, hurrying to get ready for her early-morning class with Casey at Legends. She moved about her small, nearly empty apartment quickly, munching down a quick piece of toast before brushing her teeth and pulling her hair up into a long ponytail. After throwing on a pair of black lounge pants and a long-sleeve pink shirt, she was ready to leave.
Despite the last two nights when she had taken long walks home with Rory, her commute to work was very short. With Legends being roughly halfway between the two points, she made it to the gym only five minutes after exiting her front door. She scurried right to the locker room to put away her things, not surprised that the gym was already packed at the early-morning hour.
Checking her face one last time in the mirror before leaving the locker room, Clare took a deep breath. Butterflies were dancing around her stomach in anticipation of running into Rory today. She didn’t know if he would be there or not, although it seemed pretty likely that he would be, and just the idea that he might was enough to make her nervous.
Frustrated at her own juvenile anxiety over a man who was way too easily breaking her resolve to stay single, Clare pushed the thoughts away and headed out of the locker room toward the main gym floor. She needed to focus on what was important right now, and that was learning to protect and take care of herself.
She knew it would be hard for Travis to find her, and she hoped the day never came, but she would do everything she could to make sure she was ready. That was where her mind needed to be right now, on herself. Not Rory Kavanagh. Clare sighed in frustration as she headed to Casey’s self-defense class. It was in one of the smaller classrooms at the back of the gym, but she had to travel through the open floor space of the main gym to get there.
Weaving around fighting rings, Clare moved quickly across the floor. She surreptitiously looked around, hoping to catch sight of Rory. Her eyes caught a flash of red in the ring in the far corner, and she smiled as she recognized the large build of the man she had kissed last night. Rory was sparring with his brother, and appeared menacing in only dark red gym shorts.
Clare caught her breath when
she saw him without a shirt, his abs glistening with sweat as he moved with stealth and agility across the ring. She had trouble pulling her eyes off of him, which she realized was a mistake, but only after she had already tripped over a misplaced weight and gone sprawling across the floor.
Well, that’s sexy.
“You okay?” An older man approached her as she stared up at the ceiling, mentally scolding herself for being so clumsy and trying to find the breath that had been knocked out of her.
She nodded slowly and accepted the hand he offered her.
“Thank you. I’m such a klutz.” Clare blushed with embarrassment as he helped her to her feet.
“It happens.” He shrugged. “You’re probably going to have quite the knot on the back of your head from the looks of that fall, which is kind of impressive since you fell forward.”
She laughed at his comment before grimacing when she touched the back of her head, quickly realizing that he was right.
“Well, if you’ve got to go down, do it in style, right?” she joked, rubbing her head as he smiled back at her, chuckling.
“Clare? Are you okay?” Rory’s voice approached her from behind, and Clare’s cheeks turned redder by the second. She really hoped he hadn’t seen her less-than-stellar performance.
“I’m okay, just clumsy.” She tried a simple smile, thinking it might let her off the hook.
Rory frowned and touched her head where she had just been holding it, feeling the large bump that was already beginning to form.
“You’re not fine,” Rory said, grimacing. “Dad, can you get me an ice pack?”
Clare considered the older man who had helped her up and had been chatting with her, realizing that Rory had just referred to him as his father. Now that she thought about it, she could see a lot of similarities between the men. While his father was slightly thinner and sported all-silver hair, they had the same rough facial features and prominent jaw.
“Yeah, bring her to the office so she sits down,” the man instructed.
“I’m fine, really. This isn’t necessary,” Clare assured Rory, putting her hand against his chest. At first it had been an attempt to push him away, but when her fingers felt his firm and dewy skin, she couldn’t help but linger a moment longer.
“Clare…” He didn’t sound convinced.
“I am fine, promise. I’ve got to get to Casey’s class or I’ll be late.” She quickly pulled her hand away, still blushing.
“Not a chance. I’m not letting you do anything right now except put some ice on that bump.” He grabbed her upper arm in his hand, pulling her with him toward the office.
“You’re not letting me?” she said in surprise, taking in what he had just said as he not-so-delicately escorted her across the gym floor. She frowned at herself when she realized that she was actually liking the possessiveness and the protective vibe from him.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
I should, she thought, before she realized that the truth was she didn’t.
She liked that he was taking charge and caring for her. Travis had ordered her around with every breath, but nothing about it had ever been protective or kind. Rory had a way of doing the same thing, yet not making her fearful of him because of it. Her ex had been controlling, but Rory was commanding.
His end goal wasn’t always about himself, like she’d been used to in her past relationship. Rory’s end goal was her; he could somehow do almost the exact same thing as Travis and yet for entirely different reasons. There was a subtle difference between the two acts, she saw now.
She had worried at first that maybe Rory was like Travis. Maybe she was getting involved with someone who would only hurt her in all the same ways she had been hurt before. But looking at Rory now, it was clear that the two couldn’t be further apart. Stop comparing him to your ex, she scolded herself as they entered the office.
“Clare? Are you okay?” Casey asked, concern on her face as she looked up from a desk.
“She fell and hit her head. Dad’s getting her some ice,” Rory told her before pulling a chair out for Clare.
“What happened?” An older woman stood up from where she had been sitting behind another desk off to one side.
“Nothing, I’m fine, really,” Clare said, trying to reassure everyone.
“The hell she is. Took a wrong step and went sailing up in the air like a rag doll. Thing must weigh ninety pounds sopping wet.” The older man who had helped her up came into the room with an ice pack.
“Oh, honey, that’s awful. I’m Dee,” the older woman said as she scurried over and grabbed the ice pack from her husband. “Let me help you.”
“You should definitely skip class today,” Casey told Clare.
“She is.” Rory answered for her, and Clare shot him an annoyed look.
“All right—well, I hope you feel better. I have to start teaching.” Casey frowned, looking unsure if she should go or not, before finally offering a small wave and leaving the office.
“Me, too. Nice to meet you though, Clare. I’m Seamus, by the way. Sorry my son apparently has no manners and forgot to introduce us.” Seamus shook her hand.
“Are you friends with Rory?” Excitement obvious on Dee’s face.
“Mom—” Rory was trying to sound intimidating, but his parents were clearly running the show right now.
“Yes, we’re friends.” Clare blushed, admiring the interaction between the family, enjoying being around such a boisterous and friendly group of people.
“An bhfuil tú ag fáil ar deireadh dom iníon?” Dee grinned eagerly, speaking to Rory. Have you finally found me a daughter?
Clare knit her brows, wondering what Dee was saying to her son.
“Mom,” Rory said again, giving his mother a warning look, which only made Dee happier as she clapped her hands excitedly before returning her attention to the ice pack.
—
“Next time, you have to come. The concert was amazing, I’m absolutely a die-hard Logan Clay groupie,” Casey exclaimed as she finished telling Clare all about the rock concert she’d gone to in Manhattan the night before.
“I wish I had been there, but I had to work. Cian wouldn’t give me the night off.”
“I would literally castrate him if I ever had to work for him again. I don’t know how you do it, Clare.” Casey shuddered theatrically.
Clare joined in laughing from where she sat, across the small round table just outside the front door. The two women were spending some time at a nearby coffee shop after finishing their morning class at the gym. A week or so after Clare’s fall, the bump on her head was still there, but didn’t throb anymore and was slowly disappearing.
“Cian isn’t that bad. Just kind of full of himself.” Clare defended him, even though she could think of a hundred different reasons why she should hate him, just from working at the bar.
“You’re always trying to find the best in people, Clare. Come on, admit it. Cian is a bane to work for. You know you want to say it!” Casey teased, leaning forward onto the table.
“All right, he is a total ass, and if I wasn’t flat broke, and in dire need of the job, I would quit immediately.”
“Was that so hard?” Casey rallied as Clare rolled her eyes at her. “One of these days I’ll make a bad girl out of you, Clare. You’ll see.”
“Who says I’m not already?”
“Uh, ’cause if you were you wouldn’t be working for Woodlawn’s biggest asshole, or spending so much time with my cousin.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clare looked at her friend pointedly.
“It means exactly what I said: Cian is an asshole and Rory is your next project. You’re the sweet little lamb who wants to fix the big, bad, broken wolf.”
“He is not my project. I don’t do projects. Plus we’re not officially dating or anything like that. My last boyfriend was a project, believe me. I will never go down that road again.” She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.
&nbs
p; “I call them like I see them, girly. Are you coming tonight to watch him at the sparring meet?” Casey asked.
“I saw a flyer for it at the gym, but didn’t know what it was.”
“Just a bunch of meatheads swinging at each other for fun. It’s pretty much just like a practice session for bigger tournaments and stuff. Rory hasn’t done one in a while because of his injury, so I’m betting he’ll have lots of takers to go against him tonight,” Casey explained.
“Maybe.” Clare tried not to sound as excited as she actually was about the prospect of seeing Rory. He had continued to walk her home from work every night, and while she was doing her best to keep things at bay between them, it was becoming harder and harder.
Those kisses. Her face flamed at the memory.
“Yeah, you’re coming. You’ve got it bad.”
“Why is it that every time we get coffee, we just sit and talk about boys?” Clare took another sip of her latte.
“Because we are both single and jaded by all the assholes in the world. Well, I’m single. I don’t know what you are.”
“I’m single, too!” Clare flashed Casey an indignant look.
“I’m just kidding, Clare. Lighten up.”
“I’m glad I’m single. It’s so nice to be free to do what I want, when I want. To feel like my own person again. I came here to get my life back on track, and I don’t need anyone getting in the way of that.” Even as Clare said it, she wasn’t sure she believed it. She was hoping that maybe if she kept saying it out loud, it might be the case.
“I guess I can understand that, but isn’t a good relationship supposed to let you be your own person?” Casey asked, more wondering out loud then really posing the question.
“That’s not how my last one was at all.” A hint of sadness passed through Clare’s tone. That was exactly why she had no desire to jump into a new one, either.
“I actually have never been in one long enough for it to suck. Or to be good. Or for it to be anything except for sex. I prefer the love-’em-and-leave-’em approach.” Casey tried to lighten the mood, but a heaviness had descended anyway. “All right, that’s enough moping around for me for one day. Casey Kavanagh is not a Debbie Downer.”