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There he was, sprawled in the chair like he owned the place, still riding that fight night glow. His hair was damp from the post-fight shower, curls a little messy, and his lips curled in a smug smile.
The interviewer smiled good-naturedly. “You looked fired up tonight. That second-round finish- what lit the fire?”
Paddy smirked, barely holding back the laugh in his throat. “Let’s just say I had… extra motivation waitin’ for me in the locker room.”
A few reporters chuckled. Paddy didn’t blink.
“Y’know, sometimes it’s not about the win. Sometimes it’s about what you get to do after.”
He shot a glance off-camera, like he knew exactly where you were watching.
“Reckon I’ve still got more rounds left in me tonight,” he said, voice dripping with implication.
You squirmed slightly under the heat of his gaze, grinning at your feral man.