He spoke to me calmly, but sharply, and it worked. I was so focused on listening to Danny that I’d stopped flustering and panicking, and I’d started to just breathe.

“Wouldn’t it just be better for me to wait here for him?” I asked.

“Nope,” he replied. “When one goes into the ring, we all go. He needs to know that you’re with him on this, that you have his back like he’s got yours. If he’s worried that you’ll see him differently after he fights then that will mess with his head. He knows that he has this in the bag, and you need to believe it, too. We’re all in this together, no matter what.”

“All for one and one for all?” I asked, with a crooked grin.

“We ain’t feckin’ musketeers, sunshine!” he barked, as though completely offended, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was at that point that O’Connell and Kieran walked in.

“Is this a private party or can anyone come in?” O’Connell asked, but I could hear the edge of worry in his voice.

“Jesus!” Danny exclaimed. “Can’t you boys give me five minutes of peace, even in the feckin’ loo? What’s wrong with knocking? For all you know, Em could have been helping me with my colostomy bag.”

“Ohh,” and, “Gross,” Kier and O’Connell replied together, with a wince.

Danny winked at me then pushed Kieran out the door moaning, “go on, you fat article, get out of the way,” as he closed it behind him.

“You okay, baby?” O’Connell asked worriedly.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “I was worrying about you a little bit, but Danny’s given me the pep talk so I’m fine.”

“Yep, he’s pretty good at those. I had mine when he was doing my wraps.” He paused as he looked at me. “I’ve got this, you know, love.”

“I know,” I told him. “Just try not to get too battered. I’d hate to have to put some guy on his skinny arse in the car park later because you let him knock you around.”

“Skinny arse? He’s six-foot-three and two hundred twenty-nine pounds,” O’Connell reminded me.

“In my head he’s five-foot-eight and one hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. That’s how I know you’re not getting hurt.”

He smiled at my freaky imagination then pulled me up toward him.

“Come and give your man a good luck kiss.”

“Friends don’t kiss each other good luck,” I teased. He smiled, opened the door with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around my waist, and shouted through it.

“Kier, do friends kiss each other good luck?”

“Hell, yes,” he replied in mock seriousness. “I gave Con a good bit of lip loving this afternoon to cheer him on.”

Tommy, who was sat next to Kieran, looked at him like he was a sandwich short of a picnic. Without flinching, Kier put his left hand on Tommy’s jean clad thigh. “Don’t be jealous, Tom, my feelings for you are still the same. Not even someone as damn sexy as Con can come between us.”

“FUCK. OFF!” Tommy replied then smacked Kieran a few seconds later when he still hadn’t moved his hand. We were both laughing as O’Connell closed the door, and with a smile still on both of our faces, he kissed me long and hard. The wraps on his hands felt coarse against my skin, as he reached under my sweater and tank top to run his thumb across my ribs. He didn’t touch my breast but brushed so achingly close to it that I arched my back, pressing closer against him and willing him to go further. Three bangs on the door were enough for me to know that Danny was calling time. O’Connell rested his forehead against mine.

“So, does that promise from last night still stand? Do I get my reward tonight if I win?”

“Winning is its own reward,” I replied, Zen-like, and he groaned.

“If you still have any energy left then yes, I will make good on my offer last night, but I’ve never done it before so you need to show me what to do.”

“Ah, baby,” O’Connell groaned, “how I am supposed to fight now I’m hard?”

“Just imagine what Danny will do to you if you go out there to face him like that.”

“All right,” O’Connell muttered, “that did it,” and with one more quick kiss, we walked out of the door. Danny laced up O’Connell’s gloves, and he shadow boxed a little longer with Danny talking in his ear the whole time. Any trace of my O’Connell was hidden behind the terrifyingly intense gaze of the predator that he’d become. Music that I’d never heard before pounded through the walls as Danny slipped O’Connell’s green silk robe over his shoulders. Banging his gloves together, he turned toward me and bent his head. Grasping his meaning, I unclasped the cross and fastened it around my own neck.

“Keep that safe for me, sunshine. I’ll need it as soon as the fight’s over.”

I nodded in agreement. As the door of the changing room opened, the noise was unbelievable. Apparently, they cranked up the volume when the guys were making their way toward the ring. It seems like it cranked up the crowd, as well. Stomping feet pounded along to O’Connell’s anthem, and I followed slowly behind his entourage. Tommy directed me toward our seats while Danny and O’Connell climbed into the ring, and Kieran remained in their corner.

“What’s up?” said a voice from behind me, and to my surprise, the gang was there.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I asked Nikki.

“Albie sorted it out with Mac,” she replied. “We didn’t want to miss seeing your man do his thing, and we didn’t know we had tickets until yesterday,” she told me.

“He’s not my man.” I sighed, ignoring the number of things that we’d done in the last twenty-four hours to the contrary. “We’re just friends.”

“And I’m Sugar Ray Leonard,” she retorted with a snort.

“Ladies and gentleman,” the booming voice resounded from the middle of the ring, drawing our attention to the front.

“I’d like to introduce you to the main event of the evening. In the blue corner, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-nine pounds, from Calabria, Italy, Robert ‘the Hammer’ Carmello. In the red corner, from Killarney, Ireland, weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds, your very own local boy, Cormac ‘the Hurricane’ O’Connell.”