37.
A month later
I groan as I blink open my eyes, annoyed at the relentless morning light streaming in through the bedroom’s glass panels. The dull yet consistent hum of the AC is a relief, but the throbbing ache in my neck? Yeah, that bitch sucks.
I let go of a breath before rising in bed, then shift to place my feet on the floorboards.
Dr. Broome told me that while not permanent, my neck issue – which is an after-effect of my injuries – would be troublesome to deal with until it finally faded over time.
Either way, it is, like I said before, a bitch to live with.
I exhale slowly and begin stretching my neck sideways.
The left side first, and then the right.
As I repeat the process, I feel a pulsing ache in my muscles as they are pulled in the opposite direction.
I try not to focus on it, and instead tip my head forward, making sure to touch my chin to my sternum.
Another wave of pain follows, but I simply release air through my lips and ignore it, this time tipping my head back to put pressure on the cervical area.
This is just a small exercise routine I’ve come up with for when waking up in my own bed after getting home from the hospital became difficult.
Doing these simple stretches helps relieve my muscles so I don’t have to feel like a fucking robot trying to move my head around while talking to people.
The painkillers help, of course, but these stretches are my way of comforting the pain, and most of all, my mind .
I’m about to perform the entire routine a second time, but stop when I hear a heavy thumping of fists pounding against leather and sand, which immediately makes me grin.
Said thumping is coming from the living room, so I decide to pause my exercise.
Rising from the bed, I turn off the air conditioner, freshen up in the bathroom, then head downstairs.
Dorran has an impressive boxing setup on the entirety of the left side of our living room space, which he installed all by himself when we first moved in.
His practice area is marked by a warm-toned overhead LED light, a dark grey floor mat, and a long mirror adjacent to his punching bag for when he needs to check on his form and technique.
There’s a small rack next to the mirror in which he stores his spare hand wraps, a couple of jump ropes and resistance bands, and even a pair of boxing gloves.
Feral , by Bad Omens is playing softly through the speakers installed above the mirror as I descend the last stair and start walking over to the man in question.
Dorran has his back turned to me as he fires punch after punch to the large, crimson bag in front of him. His bare back is slick with sweat, and as he rears an arm to throw yet another punch, his taut muscles flex beautifully against his lush skin, making me swallow.
“Once you’re done ogling, Little Swan, could you be so kind as to grab me a bottle of water?”
My look of awe instantly turns into a scowl. “You literally have your back to me.”
He puts his right foot forward and punches the relentless bag again. “Of course I do. But has that ever stopped me from sensing your nearness?”
I can’t help but smile. He’s a cheeky fucking bastard.
“Well, if you want water, then get it yourself. I’d rather ogle you from various possible angles, now that you’ve caught me.”
His shoulders shake as he chuckles, right before stopping the bag’s momentum with his hands and turning to face me. “Will it aid my case if I say please ?”
“Oh, fuck off , Ledger,” I quip with a roll of my eyes, and when the asshole grins at me, I scoff and head towards the kitchen to grab him some water from the refrigerator.
The silver-capped Voss bottle is ice-cold against my fingers as I start walking back to Dorran, only to find him studying me with an eased expression on his face.
“So much for taunting me for ogling you,” I jab, then stop half a foot shy from him.
This close, I can perfectly see the small droplets of sweat clinging to the ends of his damp hair, the crisp blue hue of his eyes, and the accented shadows just below his sharp cheekbones.
The smell of his pine and leather deodorant, paired with the mint on his breath are outrageously distracting, and if I wasn’t already, then I sure as hell am dizzy now.
Dorran’s chest rises and falls evenly as he gives me a cocky smirk, then leans in before running the tip of his nose to my jaw, followed by the sensitive skin just under my left ear, causing goosebumps to mar my already heated skin.
“Oranges,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on the shell of my ear. “It’s always fucking oranges .”
“And it always will be, but …” I place a hand on his collarbone and softly push him away from me. “Why have you been practicing so religiously these last few days?” I ask. “And don’t try to deny it, because I promise you, you’ll fail at trying to convince me.”
He quickly scans my face, then takes a step back before gently plucking the bottle from my grasp. “You know why,” he answers simply, then uncaps the bottle and takes a long swig from it.
I cross my arms under my chest. “Aras has invited you to Reign for a friendly match this weekend, Dor,” I remind him. “But you’re acting as though he’s challenged you for the world championship or some shit. Tell me what’s up because I know something is.”
Dorran sighs, drumming his long fingers against the bottle’s side.
He averts his gaze from me a couple of times, then finally decides to look at me.
“Look, firstly, I wasn’t expecting Aras to cash in his request of wanting to have a match with me.
I know he’d told me that he would at some point, but I didn’t actually think he might, so that’s a little disorienting.
Secondly, if I’m going to participate in this match, then I wanna make a great first impression.
” He shrugs. “That’s it; that’s all there is to it. ”
I try not to show how his words have surprised me, and I can only hope that it has worked.
Keeping a straight face after hearing that is a bit tough.
I mean, it’s Dorran , after all. Self-confidence is one of his weapons; the guy is all but bathed in it, damn it.
My instincts tell me to shake the doubts out of his mind, but I need to know why he’s having them to begin with.
“Aras is already beyond impressed with you, babe,” I tell him. “If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have asked you to be his blade at the night of the gala.”
Dorran shakes his head. “It’s not about the killing, Cigs.
” He swipes the back of his taped hand under his nose.
“All of Aras’s boxers will be present during the match, and I want them to see that I’m more than just a brute who guts people for money.
Boxing may have taken a back seat for me because of work, but it’s still something I’m deeply passionate about. ”
I don’t know why, but I feel my throat tightening at those words.
“Hey.” I erase the space between us and touch my palm to the side of his face.
“Where is this coming from, huh? Dor, you are one of the most selfless, talented, and understanding people I know. I don’t know what has caused you to question yourself, but whatever it is, know that it’s inconsequential and does not define who you really are. ”
“You would say that; you’re biased.”
“What I am is honest,” I counter. “Dorran, if Aras’s boxers don’t see how fucking lucky they are to be able to watch you in that ring, then they aren’t exactly worth your time.”
He places his hand over mine. “It’s not just that,” he whispers.
“Then what is it?” I run the pad of my thumb over his cheek. “Talk to me, Dor.”
“I wanna feel like I belong, Cigs,” he says. “Like I’m something more .”
I move back a little so that I can clearly meet his eyes. “And you feel like you’re not?” I know there’s an edge in my voice, but I can’t help it. I’m fucking pissed now.
Dorran senses it, of course. “It’s not what I meant. It’s just that–”
“You know what? Shut the hell up .” I shove at his chest. “How dare you think that way about yourself? I know you’re human and are occasionally allowed to feel this way, but damn you, Ledger, you are so much more than what you think you are.
You are the kernel that keeps me and the crew together.
You’re the reason we’re here, breathing the air around us.
We may be headstrong in our own ways, but we’d be so fucking lost without you in our lives.
” I lift a brow at him. “So, while I understand you wanting to have a one-man pity party in your head, know that you are not allowed to doubt yourself, or so help me God, I will rip that brain out of your skull and use it as confetti while killing anyone who might think of you as anything less than what you are.”
“So, you’ll kill me first by destroying my brain, and then you’ll avenge me by killing a bunch of randos with my brain matter flying behind you like debris?” he sasses, the asshole. “Just making sure I’ve got the specifics right so that I can create a proper visual for it.”
“I think I’ll drown you for a significant amount of time, and then I’ll crack open your skull.”
“ Wow .” He clicks his tongue. “What did you inhale before coming down here – a year’s worth of your Charlotte Talbot compact powder?”
A sound escapes my throat as I try not to laugh. “It’s Tilbury , you idiot. Also, you’re changing the subject.”
“Am I? But I thought my soon-to-be demolished brain was the subject.”
I sneer at him. “Can you stop being annoying for a second and be serious?”
He groans as if I’ve inconvenienced him.
“ Fine .” He moves back and empties the bottle of water before placing it on the rack behind him, then starts undoing the wraps that are secured around his palms and fingers.
“Look, Aras and Magner are the first people aside from you and the crew with whom I’ve felt comfortable.
Like, really comfortable. Safiya too, of course, but my equation with her is slightly different, so I’m not exactly stressed about her.
” He discards the wraps and places his hands on his hips.
“I guess I just… I guess I don’t wanna screw things up.
And like I said before: I don’t want Aras and his boxers to think I am nothing but a butcher.
I keep thinking they must have a preconceived notion about me or some shit, and I want to prove them wrong.
And I’m… I’m fucking trying , but nothing I’m doing is enough.
” He looks at me with creased brows and a slight frown, then raises his arms by his sides. “Well, say something.”
“I wasn’t sure you were done, and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“And I appreciate that, but say something now because I’m losing my damn mind here.”
“Can I ask you something first?”
“Always,” he answers with ease.
“If Aras thought of you only as a killer for hire, do you think he would have invited you to Reign for a match – against him , no less?”
Dorran swallows but doesn’t say anything, his expression strained, which could mean that he’s actually mulling over my question. After a few seconds of silence, he shifts on his feet and shakes his head at me.
I sigh as I walk up to him, then place a hand on the left side of his chest before giving him a smile. “You really wanna hear what I think about this?” I ask. “Because you may not like it.”
He wraps his fingers around my wrist and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Try me.”
I rise and press a long kiss on his lips.
“I think that you’re nervous,” I state plainly.
“And knowing that you’re nervous is scaring you, Dor.
It’s one of the most toxic combinations of emotions to have, and while I know it’s easier said than done, I don’t want you to let this feeling overwhelm you. ”
“Then what do I do , Cigs? I hate that I’m doubting myself. It’s a foreign concept to me, and I want it fucking gone.”
“Well, reassert your self confidence, for one. I’m not asking you to stop practicing for this match, but make sure you’re doing it more for the clarity of your mind than for proving yourself to a group of people.
I’ve known you for a little over two years, so trust me when I tell you that all the voices in your head right now that are screaming at you to question yourself?
Yeah, they are fucking irrelevant. They don’t deserve your attention, least of all your uncertainty.
You have to let them drown; you’ve got no need for them.
” I use my other hand to cup the side of his face, bringing it close to mine.
“You are enough, Dorran Ledger. For me, for those you and I love – you are more than enough. Nothing and no one will ever compare to you, I want you to remember that.”
He lets go of a breath, and his chest rumbles softly as he chuckles against my lips. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” I ask.
“Make everything better.”
I laugh. “I’d do anything for you, Dor. If what I’ve just said has helped you even in the slightest, then I’ll consider it a win. You’ve put me back on track so many times. The least I can do is return the favor.”
“Hey, we don’t do favors in this relationship, alright?” he muses.
I grin when I see the familiar glint in his eyes return, if only partially. “Well, my bad, I guess.”
Dorran shakes his head around a smile, bringing his hands to my waist before pulling me flush against his hard frame.
“You’re my fucking moonshot, Little Swan,” he says, searching my face.
“My beginning and my end. My everything .” He leans in and presses his lips to mine, humming against them when I open up for him.
“I like that sound,” he whispers.
I grin again. “Good.” I push against him as I kiss him harder.
“Uh-huh.” He glides his hands lower, to the back of my thighs, then lifts me up before wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he promises hoarsely, then presses his teeth against my bottom lip. “And you’re going to love every goddamn second of it.”