room, standing among his brothers was Savio, and he commanded my attention as usual. Tall, muscled, with his arms crossed in that casual way, and an air of absolute confidence. I tore my eyes away from him too. Seeing him hurt in a way I couldn’t explain—a pressure in my chest that increased with every passing moment.
I hurried toward the locker room, already regretting that I had come along. From this day onward, I wouldn’t work out with Savio. I couldn’t take his presence, not anymore. Stumbling into the sweat-soaked air of the locker room, I tried to breathe, but the pressure on my chest made that difficult. As the only girl, the men waited outside while I changed, which allowed me to brave my freak-out without prying eyes.
With shaking fingers, I fumbled with the buttons of my jeans, popping open one after the other. If only it were this easy to release the pressure in my chest. A knock sounded, startling me out of my breakdown.
Before I could shout a warning, the door swung open and Savio slipped in. His eyes slid down the length of my body, lingering on my open jeans and my plain white cotton panties peeking out. Horrified, I whirled around. “Savio! What are you doing here? Get out!” My cheeks throbbed with embarrassment, and worse: excitement, because the second it had taken me before I’d turned around, my eyes had memorized every detail of Savio’s body. I didn’t think I’d ever grow tired of admiring the hard planes of his chest. As vain as Savio was, and he was one of the vainest guys I’d ever met, his muscles were the result of fighting, meant to make him invincible in the cage. They weren’t just pretty decoration.
“Calm down, Kitty. I only saw a tiny bit of your panties, nothing to get them in a bunch over.”
“I’m promised to Mick. I can’t be alone with you. That’s inappropriate,” I said, and my voice shook the slightest bit. I straightened my spine, but my muscles didn’t stop trembling. The image of the tips of horns had teased me from beneath Savio’s low sweatpants. That stupid tattoo would definitely haunt my dreams.
Silence fell between us, then warmth ghosted over my back—Savio standing so close that I could feel his presence everywhere. I swallowed. “You need to leave.”
Then why didn’t I sound like I wanted that?
“Won’t you face me?”
Bracing myself, I turned around to him, clutching my jeans.
Savio noticed and smiled in that annoying way.
Anger took hold of me at his audacity. Did he think he could pretend I wasn’t promised to another man? “Maybe you didn’t understand what I said. I’m promised to your friend Mick now. We’re going to marry. You can’t be alone with me.”
Savio tilted his head. “Tell me one thing, Kitty, and be honest, do you want to marry Mick?”
“We’re not having that discussion.” I shook my head, glaring. What did it matter? Was this some kind of game to him? “I’m promised to him, Savio. It doesn’t matter if I want to marry him or not. Once I turn eighteen, I’ll become his wife.”
“It matters to me.” He leaned down, bringing us impossibly close, his eyes piercing me with their intent. “Now answer my question, do you want to marry him?”
“I don’t know why you think you have any right to ask me this question, much less demand an answer from me. You are my brother’s friend, nothing else.”
Savio took another step closer, forcing me to back away or we would have touched. My calves hit the wooden bench, stopping me from retreating farther. I tensed and narrowed my eyes at him.
“Answer my question, Kitty, or I’ll make you, and I know you don’t want that.”
A shiver passed down my spine. That wasn’t the promise of pain or torture, that was the promise of something else that scared me even more in our current situation.
I brought my palms up against his chest and shoved hard, but Savio anticipated my move and didn’t as much as twitch. He grabbed my arms and pulled me against him, so my breasts, thankfully still covered by a bra and shirt, smacked against his very naked chest. I gasped. I’d never been this close to a man, unless you counted the few times during fight training, but then the moment had never lasted long.
“Stop,” I croaked. “Stop it now.”
“Just answer my question,” he said in a low voice that reminded me who he was. The Falcones had