Breathless

Pandora

“Got you!” my sister, Penelope, screams as she hops out in front of me.

I’m leaving work, and she thought she could sneak up on me. I saw her peeking through the glass door as I was walking out. It’s hard to miss someone who looks exactly like you. Well, except for the little pregnant belly and her green eyes. Oh, and let’s not forget she always has a giant Russian standing near her.

“Don’t hop, krasota,” her husband, Ivan, says, standing a few feet behind her.

Penelope rolls her eyes as her hand goes to her belly. She rubs it in such a sweet, mothering way.

“What are you doing?” I ask, like I don’t know the answer. She knows something is up with me. It’s like some weird twin thing we share. It’s always been there, and it always will be. But sometimes I’d like a little emotional privacy from her.

“Well, what I’m not doing is giving you these.” She holds up a white bag like she has victory in her hands.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Are those what I think they are?”

For a second I contemplate snatching the bag from her, but she turns, tossing the bag to Ivan, who easily catches it. Stupid twin thingy.

“Don’t even think about it.” She narrows her eyes back at me, giving me the exact look I gave her. I know those are her famous homemade brownies that we all fight over at family dinners.

“And I made them with real butter,” she adds.

“What else would you make it with?” I crack a smile. Like she’d use anything but the full fat.

“I don’t know. It sounded like a scary thing to add.” Now I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re a dork.” I walk over and pull her into a hug.

“Something weird is going on with you. I can feel it. Even in our texts you seem off,” she whispers in my ear. I debate what to say to her, because I have been a little on edge.

“If I give you the truth, will you not ask me a million questions right now? I have some stuff to get done, and I have plans tonight.”

“Fine,” she grumbles. Pulling back, I place my hand on her belly. She’s having a gender reveal party this weekend for the family. They haven’t told anyone.

“Boy,” she mouths to me, and winks.

“Same,” I mumble, and her eyes go wide then stare down at my stomach. “No, not that. I mean men. This guy’s… Grrr. Never mind. This weekend we’ll talk,” I tell her.

“Promise?” She studies me.

“Of course.” I lean in, giving her a kiss on her cheek. Penelope can get everyone to do anything she wants. We always say she’s our family’s heart. Love just pours from her. She and her husband seem like opposites, but it works for them. He’s a giant Russian who doesn’t talk much and grunts when Penelope gets too far from him. Pretty sure he even has a tracker on her, and not some low-key cell phone one.

“Ivan.” I nod toward him. He walks over and hands me the bag.

“Your mission over, krasota?” Ivan asks her. She gives him a nod and a wink. “Good. I wish to take you home.”

“You always want to take me home,” she laughs.

“Da,” he agrees, like he doesn’t know why she’s giving that a voice. Everyone knows this. But truth is, Penelope is a homebody.

“Love you guys. Kiss my nieces,” I tell them before bending down and kissing her belly “Love you, too, little man.”

I give my sister one more hug before they head off. I smile as I watch them go. I should have known she was going to pop up on me today after she randomly sent me the devil face emoji three times. I finish running a few errands before heading back to my office for a little while. I have a few hours to kill before I meet up with Delilah for some much-needed beers at Lincoln’s.

I throw myself into work, trying to stay focused. But like it’s been doing for the past few annoying days, my mind bounces back to Royce. I click my emails to see if he sent me anything in the last few hours but don’t see anything. Annoyance once again creeps up my spine. And now I’m pissed at myself.

“What is wrong with me?” I mumble. I think that’s the problem. I don’t even know the answer to that question. For some reason, I’m annoyed that Royce didn’t chase me the other day after I’d walked away from him. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, yet I was disappointed when he wasn’t there.

Then when he sends me emails, which I’m always checking, I get this stupid weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s frustrating not being able to control my reaction to him. To top it off, I know I’m being childish by avoiding him. I should be trying to work with him more. Help ease how busy I am at work, but here I am, being immature, which is something I’ve never done in my life when it comes to work. Though he seems to be solving a lot of my problems here at work without a lot of my help. Which only makes me think about him even more and all he’s doing for me. He’s going above and beyond and I’m acting like a brat.

Something about Royce isn’t sitting right with me. It’s like I’m missing something about him. I thought a few times about digging into him but changed my mind. I knew I wanted it for personal reasons, and I was not turning into some stalker like so many of my family members.

Dropping my head in my hands, I groan. I release a deep breath and look up at my computer to see that it’s time for me to meet up with Delilah. I pick up my phone from my desk and slip it into the back pocket of my slacks.

Reaching into the top drawer of my desk, I pull out some lipstick and put it on before heading out toward Lincoln’s. When I get there, I’m once again surprised to see it’s so busy.

I see Delilah sitting at a table in the back, two beers in front of her and a couple plates of food. I walk over, take my blazer off, and sit on the chair.

“Hey,” I say. She barely notices me as she looks around the bar.

“Hey,” she replies with a small nod.

I reach down and pick up my beer, taking a few big pulls from it and enjoying the cold burn.

“Something’s going on downstairs,” she finally says, looking over at me.

“Really?” I glance to the back door and watch as people file in and out. In fact, the crowd has slowly gotten smaller as more people slip down there.

“Yeah, but no one is talking about what it is. I’ve had my ears open, but nothing.” She looks over at me, pulling her eyes from the door. One eyebrow rises, and I know what she wants to do.

“Can I at least finish my beer and shove a few nachos in my mouth?” I ask her.

“That will take you two seconds,” she laughs. I shrug and shove some nachos in my mouth before polishing off my beer. I stand with her and throw a few twenties on the table.

We make our way toward the door, and I wonder if anyone is going to stop us, but they don’t. I walk down the stairs first. They lead down to a dark, narrow hallway, but I can hear noise coming from somewhere below. That’s when light floods the space at the back of the room. The noise gets louder, and people are chanting. The place is dirty and smells like sweat.

“What the fuck?” Delilah mumbles behind me. When we get to the bottom, I realize what they are chanting.

“Rol-ly!”

“Holy shit, it’s fight club,” Delilah whispers excitedly. “It’s underground shit.”

A makeshift ring sits in the middle of the concrete room, with people standing all around it.

“Yeah,” I agree as I look past the crowd, trying to see.

My eyes go the ring where two men are already going at it. The once facing me looks like he’s taken a few punches as blood runs down his nose. He isn’t going to last another hit. He wobbles on his feet with his arms still up. His barrel chest rises and falls as he breathes hard, in and out. The crowd in front of me is making it hard to see, but Delilah and I push forward, both of us captivated by what’s happening.

The one with his back to us makes me pause my forward progress. Tattoos run along his muscled back and down both his giant arms. He’s freaking ripped. The dark lines that look like dragon scales make their way below the waist of his shorts, and for half a second I wonder just how low the tattoo goes. A light sheen of sweat covers his whole body, and I can’t pull my eyes away from him. He’s still bouncing on his feet, as if he could go for hours. He looks like a machine, and I feel a pulse between my legs as I watch him move. He’s a beast from behind, and I can almost feel the power rolling off him.

The crowd keep chanting. He does a little hop before he lands a left hook and takes the man down to the ground. The bleeding guy falls hard, and the crowd erupts around the two men.

“That was hot,” Delilah exclaims from behind me.

I nod in agreement, and just as I’m about to open my mouth, the fighter turns around.

My stomach drops as my gaze locks with Royce’s. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, just before a cocky smile pulls at his lips. The ref, or whoever is calling the fight, comes over and raises one of his big meaty arms in the air. The crowd chants even louder, and I swear to God, Royce looks at me like he just won more than that fight. Like he just won the right to fuck me.

His eyes stay locked on mine, and I feel as if I’m frozen in place. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, because right now I’m more turned on than I have ever been in my entire life.

“God, he’s so hot. Think he’ll be in the bar upstairs when the fight’s over?” I hear a woman next to me say.

Then a very foreign feeling hits me. I drop my eyes from Royce, turning to look at Delilah.

“Crap. I forgot I have something to take care of,” I tell her. It’s the only thing I can come up with off the top of my head.

“That’s cool. I’m going to hang out down here and see if there are any more fights. This is kinda badass.”

I nod and say bye over my shoulder as I duck through the crowd. I take off, trying to get away from Royce once again. Why is it every time I’m near him, I feel like running away?

I almost make it to the stairs when a hand grabs my arm, turning me around. I close my eyes and curse myself. I know exactly who I’m going to find when he turns me around, and my eyes open to once again meet his.