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“Oh.” I open and close my mouth for a second, taken aback. “Well, I still thank you. But if you —”
“You’re the reason he’s this close to losing it.”
My heart drops. “What?”
“And the reason I’m allowing this to happen. Maybe you can talk some sense into him,” he adds before turning back to Tempest. “OrI would’ve told your asshole brother where to stick it.” Shifting on his feet and taking a deep breath, he says, “Now, I want you both to stay close to me, all right? This isn’t a place for either of you. And no, I don’t wanna hear any bullshit right now about what you can or can’t do. This isn’t about feminism or some shit. This is about safety and common fucking sense.” He directs this comment to Tempest, who was in the process of saying something, probably arguing. “You both are under my protection tonight, and if I have to chase either one of you down, I’m not going to be happy.”
“Aren’t you always not happy, though?” Tempest quirks up her brows. “AngryThorn?”
Ledger stares at her for a moment, blank face but taut features. “Yeah. Which means you don’t want to make me even morenot happy, all right, Firefly? Come on, let’s go.”
If I wasn’t extremely anxious after Ledger’s comment about Reign ‘losing it,’ I probably would’ve appreciated more that Tempest, for all her bluster, blushed really, really hard at ‘Firefly.’ And that Ledger’s eyes glinted the most when she did. Not to mention, I definitely would’ve wondered about his anger issues and why people call him ‘The Angry Thorn,’ his soccer nickname.
But I have my own problems right now, and ignoring it all, I follow Ledger inside the building.
Which I realize is more or less the size of a high school gym.
Actually, itmayhave been a school gym once upon a time, with wooden bleachers surrounding the basketball-sized court. But now everything is turned into concrete, from the floors to the steps. And there are no hoops or the line thingies drawn on the floor that tell players where to throw the ball from.
There is a ring though.
Like a boxing ring.
And tons and tons of glaring lights focused on that ring.
So many lights that the rest of the space is in darkness.
And so that is where I decide to focus, on that ring, on what’s happening inside it, under those spotlights.
There are two people, two men specifically.
They’re both bare-chested and tall and towering. One of them has a broad body with thick muscles while the other one has a body that’s more streamlined and sleek, built for speed.
That doesn’t mean though that this sleeker guy doesn’t have muscles or definition.
Oh, he’s got definition.
His muscles are packed and more sharply carved. More finely honed.
Tight and ropey.
You can see the clear shape of them, the density.
You could study that body in an anatomy class. Draw diagrams based on it. Build science models and structures.
I watch them circle each other, their hands covered in a white gauze kind of a thing and put up in kind of like in a fighting stance. A second later though, there’s nokind ofabout it because with those raised fists, they begin to fight.
And when that first fist flies and hits the jaw of the sleeker guy, I gasp.
As if waking up from a fog.
I know that jaw.
It’s angular and square and perpetually covered in stubble. It’shisjaw.
It’s him. It’s his streamlined body.
The one that I’ve seen several times in the past. At the manor, at the school, on the soccer field.
