Page 95 of Falcon

That horrific piece of bleach-blonde awfulness downstairs; I’d like to make her a jealous because she deserves it.

The elevator dings and bounces gently as it comes to a halt and the doors slide open. No sooner than I step out into the hallway, do I hear the door that leads to the stairwell slam open and Falcon comes barreling through.

“Faith. Wait,” he says, as he runs toward me, and I do. I stay right where I am and wait for him.

He stops just short of my body and keeps his hands at his side, flexing his fingers like he’s resisting the urge to touch me.

“Why did you run away?” he asks.

“Because I didn’t want to hear anything else she had to say. I’d rather not think about you fucking her over a sink,” I seethe.

He grimaces at my words. “Faith…”

“I don’t want to talk about this at all, but if we are going to, we should at least do it in the room. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

I pull the room key out of a small pocket in the thigh area of my leggings and turn to head down the hallway to the room.

He still doesn’t touch me, but he walks just behind me. So close I can feel the heat of his body and my skin is tingling because of it.

I slide the key through the card reader and push the door open when it the light turns green.

We walk inside and when the door seals us in privacy, he chooses to speak, “Why are you letting her bother you?”

“I wish I had the answer to that question. I really do, because it shouldn’t bother me. Nothing like that ever does. I pride myself on being someone who never lets shit like that in, but with what she said… about you…I…”

“You what?”

“Did you sleep with her? Have you?”

He stands stock-still and just gives me a simple, truthful answer, “Yes.”

It stings, even though I already knew the answer. “How many times?”

“Faith…”

“How many times, Falcon?”

“More than a few. If she came to a city to see a fight, it happened.”

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Jennifer Wyatt. She is Denver Wyatt’s daughter.”

“Denver Wyatt. Why do I know that name?” I chew on my thumbnail, needing to expel this icky anxiety that is brewing.

“Denver Wyatt is the president of the WFC.”

WFC. World Fighting Corporation. The company that, at the end of the day, signs his checks.

I can’t help but laugh. “So you’re basically fucking your boss’s daughter?”

“Okay, don’t put it that way. I’m not fucking her. I have fucked her. That’s it. She doesn’t mean anything to me. It was just…physical. Nothing else.”

“Look, I have no right to be upset, and truly, I know that. I know that it’s in the past. I know it doesn’t matter, but I’m just,” I sigh, and drop my hands to my side and shrug, “jealous, I guess. I’m jealous. I don’t want to think about you doing things with her that you do with me. I don’t want to think about the fact that she’s seen you the way I see you. I don’t want her to have what’s mine.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can even stop them.

“What’s yours?” The side of his mouth curls up in a smirk. “Care to specify?”

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