Page 26 of Falcon

I can’t stop the smile that spreads on my face. “Well, I lift a lot, run, and I spar.”

“Spar?”

“Yeah, I fight with someone in a ring to practice. It helps my reflexes and positioning.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It can be, but it’s worth it. Actual fights in the Octagon are a rush. The adrenaline, the crowd, the lights. It’s why I do what I do. I truly enjoy it.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

Her question causes a barrage of memories to come flooding back all at once, most of which I don’t want to talk about. Not even a little. Without even realizing or even making the choice, I raise my hand up to the back of my head and rub.

“A while. I started when I was young. Underground fights for money and the right people saw, I guess. I was lucky. I try to never forget that.”

“Why fighting though? It doesn’t seem like it would be the first thing someone would choose.”

“I was good at it and I was making money.” I clear my throat. “My parents passed when I was young, I don’t know if Nora has talked about this with you or not, but I had to step up. I kind of became a parent to her. Fighting was my most consistent way to make bank.”

I watch her lean back in her seat and her brows wrinkle just a bit like she’s deep in thought.

“Nora mentioned it on a drunken wine evening, yes, but I didn’t press for details.”

“It’s messy. You don’t want the details.”

“We all have messy pasts.” She licks her lips like she instantly regrets the words.

“So tell me about you. How did you end up working with Case?” I cross my arms over my chest and really watch her speak.

“It’s a long story, but the short version is I moved to Savannah about five years ago from Nashville, and I was lucky enough find my house. My parents helped me get moved in and settled with the mortgage for a month, but after that, I was on my own. I needed a job. One day, I saw Case outside mowing his lawn, and Arya came over to say hello. I got to know Case, he became like a brother to me and got me the job.”

“Why’d you leave Tennessee?”

I can see by the immediate shift in her posture that it’s something she doesn’t want to talk about, so I don’t push when she gives me a half answer.

“Just wanted a change. I love this city.” She doesn’t get any more specific than that. She just shifts in her seat a bit and takes another sip of her water before swiftly changing the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want dessert? The best ice cream shop in Georgia is just down the street. We could walk.”

“How can I say no to spending more time with the prettiest girl in the room?” I reach back to fish my wallet out of my pocket.

“Does that line work on the girls in California?” she asks.

“Is it working on you?” I give my credit card to the server when she approaches.

“Not even a little, buddy. I need something better than that.” She stands and straightens her shorts a bit, drawing my eye right back to the tattoo.

This is the best view I’ve had of it thus far. I try not to gawk, but I’m intrigued. It’s a single orchid, in the same lilac color as her helmet, with splashes of watercolor all around it. It’s intricate yet simple. It’s visually stunning against her creamy, pale skin.

My attention is pulled away by the server returning with my card and receipt. I scribble the tip and sign my name before stuffing my wallet back into my pocket.

“Shall we?” I ask.

“I’ll lead the way.”

I place my hand at the small of her back as we weave through the crowd toward the entrance. She stills for a moment when our skin makes contact but she settles soon after.

We barely cross the doorway to the sidewalk outside when I hear someone shouting from a few feet behind me.

“Falcon! Woo wooooo Falcon!”

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