Of All the Things that I Don't Know (Spot Conlon + OC)

Chapter 23

Spot Conlon felt an uncharacteristic worry fill him as he stared into the boisterous Brooklyn gathering, Katherine Moore's form immediately catching his eye. Her back was turned to him as she stood in what appeared to be a good-natured conversation with Boxer and Tops, the two boys smiling and chattering away while the dark-haired girl nodded in interest. But even though only pleasantness appeared to be abounding throughout the large common room, Spot still felt a lingering suspicion pervading in his gut that Kate was not in as high of spirits as she seemed to be. There was something about the way she stood, something about the way she clenched her fingers into tight fists, and certainly something about the way she gulped the drink in her hand-her third drink in an hour-that made Spot want to whisk her away from the party being thrown mostly in her honor to sit her down and demand she speak candidly with him.

But he suspected this tactic would most likely yield the same kind of responses she had already been giving him throughout the day-that she was "fine", that "nothing was wrong", and that he needed to let it go. And perhaps she was right-as far as him letting go of the pervasive guilt he felt in regards to the incident that had taken place early that morning, but his instinct and Kate's pleasant, but distanced behavior since then had told him it must be something.

She had been more than enthusiastic four days prior when his boys had surprised both of them with the idea for the celebration they were now attending. It had been well before dawn the morning after Kate had first spent the night with him, and she had insisted on going to change into her work clothes before Mary had awakened for the morning. So, after having quietly guided the scantily clad girl into her room and aiding her in quickly dressing herself, he had walked her back out onto the landing between Mary's living quarters and the lodging house bunk room, wanting a few minutes alone with her before he left for work.

She had looked up at him with a small smile, murmuring, "You better go get yourself ready so you aren't late for your shift at the docks."

He had smirked in response, purposefully grasping her hips against his pelvis and pushing his lips provocatively onto hers, relishing in the surprised but satisfied sigh that she had emitted. And when she had wrapped her arms about his neck, deepening their kiss and molding her body onto his in such a way that he could feel every single one of her curves, he had again experienced the sheer, though novel, comfort that came with Kate finally being his.

In the hours following their first sexual encounter Spot had felt nothing but a steady flow of contentment passing throughout his body. He had at last been capable of allowing himself to settle into the unusual sensation of rightness while also putting his insecurities to rest. He had revelled in the openness that so naturally came over him when he was in Kate's presence-finally able to breathe with the knowledge that she was now unequivicobly his. It had been the first time in his life that he had felt assured-not only in his decision to be with someone, but also in the idea that he, Spot Conlon, might actually be on a path that did not reek of utter self-destruction.

However, they both had nearly jumped out of their skins, breaking apart from their kiss as a familiar voice had drawled, "Well, shit, Conlon, it's about time you finally landed yourself a good one."

Spot had instinctively pushed Kate behind him, solidly putting himself between her and whomever it was lurking in the darkness of the barely lit space. But once his eyes had further adjusted to the dimness, he had sighed loudly as Boxer's swollen face had finally become visible.

"Jesus Christ, Boxer! What the hell are you doin' out here at this hour?" Spot had hissed.

"Hard ta sleep with my face all swole up like this," Boxer had said with a lopsided smile. "But also wanted to check on your girl there."