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I give him a doubtful look, then kneel to zip up my bags before standing again. “Do you want me to stay in here? Can I go out there...Captor?” I throw in for good measure becausewhy the hell not. His unspoken refusal still tightens the strings around my heart.
He frowns, the adorable little dip in his lip more pronounced. “I want to keep you safe.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, laughing. “Everyone in my life wants to do that.” I nearly bite my tongue off to stop from saying what I really want to say.No one cares what I want.It’s a petty thought, but hell, I guess I’m just trivial like that. I try to remind myself that Cole really is doing what he thinks is best for me, and Finn? Well, he’s just doing what he’s been told. “So, what am I allowed to do?”
“Jesus, you’re breaking my heart.”
I flick my gaze to him, and he really does appear contrite. “Well?” I push because I can’t help my temper boiling to the surface right now.
“What do you want to do?”
“I’d like to still be able to watch the fights. Staying in this room sounds pretty dull, actually. And I imagine you have things to do too.”
He runs his hands through his hair, and I watch as it falls perfectly back over his ears, tickling his cheekbones. He’s still dressed in the same shirt and jeans from dinner at the tower. He’s certainly not wearing the same gear he wore for yesterday’s fights, but he looks just as good.
He gestures toward the door, and I move toward it. Hurrying in front of me, he opens it, and when I walk through, he places his hand at the small of my back again. I close my eyes, remembering how excited I got when he touched me this way only yesterday. There’s nothing better than a small, possessive gesture to get the blood boiling, but today, it takes on a whole different meaning.
He’s just touching me because I’m his charge.
Everyone discreetly looks at us when we emerge from the room. He doesn’t say anything. We just walk straight through and back to the maze of hallways. This time, we take a different route and come out the same door the fighters do to go to the ring. I only recognize it when we start moving down the ramp toward the cage, and when I look up to get my bearings amid the cacophony of people, I realize right where I am.
At the end of the ramp, we stop directly in front of the damn cage. It’s near enough to touch, and this close, I see how big it actually is. Finn flags down a guy in a full-on security outfit complete with a collared, yellow shirt. They have a short conversation, and the man nods in response. We stay where we are, and I get lost in the sea of people taking their seats. The same wild, pumped up music is banging overhead like an angry exchange. Goosebumps ripple up and down my arms from the pure electricity in the air.
A few minutes later, the security guard comes back with two folding chairs. He hands one to Finn who takes it and sets it up in front of the first row of seats, in line with the judging tables. Taking my hand, he gestures toward the chair, giving me one of his signature wide smiles. “How’s this for a seat?”
I peek around. I’m so damn close I’ll have to strain my neck to see the action, but it can’t get better than this. “I think it’ll work,” I tease.
My response only makes Finn’s smile brighten. He takes the second chair from the security staff member and sets it up right next to me. As soon as he sits, his leg jumps up and down, eyes glancing to the right where he was yelling from cage-side only yesterday. His harried movements almost make me squirm. Bringing out his phone, I watch as he sends his brother a text, something about a fighter’s right hook.
“You don’t have to wait here with me.”
He puts his phone away and places his arm around my chair. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be very good at watching you if you’re no longer within my line of sight, would I?”
“I don’t need to be babysat,” I hiss.
“I’m not using that term. That was your brother. But I will make sure nothing happens to you while he’s gone, and not because he asked me to.” The longer he talks, the darker, more hardened his voice gets. “Because I fucking want to.”
He looks away right after, and I stare at his profile. I have to squeeze my legs together at the heat pooling between my thighs because holy shit. The nice one has some claws to him, and that’s panty-dampening.
I suck my lower lip inside my mouth, chewing it lightly. “I still am sorry,” I say aloud even though I’m not sure if it’s quite powerful enough to be heard over the music. “I know you have better things to do.”
He peeks at me from the corner of his eye before shaking his head, his arm around my chair flexing. He leans over, placing his lips near my ear. “If it weren’t for what’s going on, the only thing better I can think of is pressing a kiss to your sweet cunt.”
His lips brush my earlobe and with the strength of his words, I take a deep breath to calm myself before combusting in front of everybody. Sweet Jesus.
Before I even have a chance to formulate a response, the lights dim and the music changes. The atmosphere in the air tenses with a different type of electricity. I close my eyes to get myself under control, and as the crowd starts clapping, I trust myself to look up only to find Finn completely ignoring his surroundings and watching me.
My lips part at his hardened focus. His eyes roam mine as if searching for something, and it isn’t until his brother claps him on the back that he finally breaks our stare. When he looks away, it’s as if I’m released from a gravitational pull and have to stop myself from falling to the floor in a heaping mess. Slow, measured breaths help get my body back under control. There’s just something about this guy that does it for me, and quite frankly, it’s a little unnerving.
With his arm still around my chair, his fingers brushing the bare skin of my shoulder, he starts talking to his fighter that’s getting that stuff wiped across his face right next to us by a referee. The young athlete gives Finn all of his attention, nodding at every piece of advice he shares. It’s so damn fascinating that I can’t look away. After another referee gives the fighter his final checks, the boy in the black trunks strides toward Finn who releases his hold on me and raises his fists. Bouncing from foot-to-foot, the fighter punches his gloves against Finn’s knuckles and then runs into the ring.
I keep looking between the ring and Finn. He’s so unassuming, and not in a negative way. He doesn’t have a giant chip on his shoulder. He’s not walking around like he’s the shit and everyone else should be sucking his dick. He’s good natured. He’s more apt to smile than growl. He’s...happy. Something you don’t see a lot of in the Heights. And yet, he holds a lot of respect here. He’s firm and encouraging. The game plan he summed up in about fifty words even got me hyped for the fight.
I move to the edge of my seat as Finn leans forward, elbows on his bouncing knees. The announcer introduces the two contenders, and I reach over to place my hand on Finn’s knee to steady him. He pauses to look at me, and I give him a sly grin, brushing my thumb over his jeans to try to calm him.
When the bell rings, he gets sucked away, drawn into the match. He’s so engrossed I doubt he even realizes my hand is still on him. He starts calling out instructions like I saw him do from outside the cage last night. Muscles flexing, it’s as if he’s the one in the cage facing down an opponent. He’s living every single second with his fighter.
I thought him being in the cage would be hot, but this is sexy and inspiring. Finn cares enough to be their cheerleader and coach wrapped into one.