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“You know exactly who I’m talking about, don’t you?”
The fighter’s body shifted. One gigantic bicep curled into a boulder as he scratched at the back of his head.
“Come with me.”
He led me away from the source of his original destination, which was apparently the men’s locker room. I felt a little bad denying him his much-needed shower. Then again, the sight of his glistening, shirtless body wasn’t exactly unpleasant. His broad shoulders and sculpted back gave way to a sexy V-shaped depression, right above his blue satin boxer shorts. I didn’t have to imagine his ass, either. I could see the two muscular globes coiling and uncoiling as he walked, straining against the fabric while distracting me from the task at hand.
Easy, Brynne.
Into one of the side offices we went. The room was clean but cluttered and utilitarian. An old desk took up one side, while at the other stood a beat-up leather couch that looked oddly comfortable. A set of long windows looked back into the gym’s central area.
“Tell me again why you need this man,” he asked once we were inside.
With the door closed, the room was surprisingly silent. The whole place smelled like bad coffee.
“I’m in trouble,” I told him. “Or rather… my brother’s in trouble.”
“And who’s your brother?”
I shook my head slowly. “Nobody you’d know.”
“Then why should I care?”
The words came off cold, even callous. I could tell he didn’t mean them that way, though. He was merely thinking out loud. I recoiled a little, as his shoulders slumped in apology.
“Look, I know the man you’re talking about,” he said finally. His eyes squinted carefully my way. “I might even be able to hook you up with him. But before I even consider it—”
At that exact moment the door swung open and the man from the alley walked in, looking every bit the warrior he was last night. His piercing gaze settled on me almost immediately. I watched his brown eyes flare first with recognition, then with disappointment.
“Ah shit,” he swore, shaking his head with a sigh.
Five
BRYNNE
“TheLozanos?”
The shirtless fighter swore loudly as my hero explained last night’s events. He slammed his fist on the desk.
“You told me you got into a fight last night, but you didn’t say it was with one of the Lozanos!”
The ring-fighter I’d denied a shower was Santiago. He’d toweled off during my savior’s story, and was now finally pulling a T-shirt over his hulking form.
“Look, I didn’tmeanto fight anyone,” my hero announced. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Keep walking?”
“You’re supposed to mind your own business!” Santiago boomed. “Especially when it comes to—”
“Fuck all that.”
The man who’d saved me last night flicked his hand dismissively. It turned out his name was Silas. For the past five minutes the two men had been shouting back and forth, neither of them acknowledging my presence. It was almost like I wasn’t there.
“I saw three scumbags kicking the hell out of a woman in an alley,” Silas shouted back at him, “so I acted. Trust me, you would’ve done the same.”
Shaking his head, Santiago sighed. “Maybe,” he acknowledged begrudgingly. “But—”
“But nothing,” Silas countered. “Like I said, I didn’t realizewhoI was beating at the time. It sure felt good afterward, though.”
“It did, huh?” Santiago growled sarcastically. “Will it feel just as good when they show up here, looking for you?”
