Fighting for It

by Jennifer Fusco

  She scowled. “Just because you told me you’re not screwing any girl who moves doesn’t get you a free pass from finishing your workout.”

  He wedged himself back between Daniella’s legs, laid on his back, and stared straight up at her. “That’s okay. I don’t mind the view from this angle. I can see up your shorts.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two hundred.

  Two hundred one.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  Jack bounced, mentally counting the turns of the jump rope. Perspiration stretched like fingers down his back. He kept the pressure light on the balls of his feet. Tightness pulled his hamstrings, glutes, and calves. His muscles burned, but he didn’t quit. Hell no, he didn’t quit. He was just getting started. Outside the cabin, standing on the grassy lawn, the breeze blew, cooling his flesh.

  With a few quick turns of his wrist, Jack quickened his pace. He pushed himself. Harder. Faster. His win meant everything, not only to him or Daniella, but to all the guys at Stamina.

  The pressure of redemption intensified with the pace of the rope whizzing under his feet. He jumped for five minutes longer, then dropped the rope and started shadowboxing. Out of his peripheral vision, he monitored his form, evaluating his shadow on the ground. He threw a jab, followed by a right hook.

  The force of the punch strengthened with the extension of his arm. Over the last week, his punches grew more defined, his speed intensified.

  His right cross still needed work. He threw the punch repeatedly, sharpening his skill. Jack knew he didn’t have the natural talent of Muhammad Ali, or the brute force of Mike Tyson, but he knew boxing. He studied the sport, the punches. He knew what made fighters great. Expert boxers turned from good to great with hard fucking work. Nothing less.

  He danced on the lawn, practicing his footwork. Keeping light on the balls of his feet, Jack shifted his weight from side to side, practicing his pivot. He narrowed his stance and straightened his spine, working on his balance. A tip to one side meant Cortez would put his ass on the canvas.

  He practiced his side step. Once in the ring, he hoped to use his footwork to get out from under Cortez if he started boxing him into a corner. With each move and pivot, he readied.

  After a beat, Jack dropped to the ground and started a series of push-ups. With each rep, it was as if two fireballs resided under his skin where his biceps were located. His muscles ignited and burned. The feeling reminded him of the way his body kindled when he’d kissed Dani.

  To rid his mind of how much he wanted to kiss her again, he decided to go for a long, exhausting run.

  The moment he left the driveway, one of the neighbors stopped to chat. Jack kept time, running in place, keeping up his heart rate. He ran the hills with gusto, making a game out of the challenge to keep himself entertained. How fast could he run up the mountain?

  Whatever worked.

  Jack completed his five-mile run and worked up a good sweat. He’d taken the hills at an intense speed, and for the first time since he’d been here, waking up at four in the morning didn’t seem like a chore. With his hoodie pulled over his head, the heat trapped underneath the cloth kept his whole body warm.

  And sweaty.

  Perspiration was good. Healthy. Once in the ring, when the heat from the lights mixed with the noise from the crowd and his heart raced, knowing he could perform when dehydration set in would ease his mind.

  He shadowboxed, running up the drive, hitting air. For a week he practiced the smooth transition between head to body shots, strategizing just how quick he could knock Boom Boom Cortez down. Unlike prepping for his earlier fights, he didn’t do much sparring. Going a few rounds with Mike everyday had been enough to satisfy Daniella’s demands, and he didn’t know if that was more for him or to keep Mike in shape.

  His feet scraped along the gravel driveway until he reached the steps of the cabin. He reached the steps and walked inside, where he found Daniella sitting at the table, coffee in hand.

  “There are eggs if you want them,” she told him, gesturing toward the stove. A pan sat on the warmer, a heap of scrambled eggs inside.

  Jack peeled the hood off his head and unzipped the jacket. Papers with the Stamina logo sat on the table, and Daniella used one as a coffee cup rest, the brown circle stain told him she’d been sitting there a while.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, when she didn’t look up at the sound of his undressing.

  “Money. Manager stuff. Nothing you need to worry about. How was your run?”

  “Good,” he said, and when she turned her attention back to the paperwork, he held back from offering her any more details.

  He peered down at the litter of papers. A notice of a fine for one hundred thousand dollars payable to the Las Vegas Boxing Commission lay on the top of the pile. The penalty for her father’s bet. She’d told him not to worry, but from the looks of things, her concern was enough for both of them.

  “You got Mike scheduled?” The question was fair. Mike was due and no doubt looking for his next pro fight. If she’d brought Mike up here to spar, Daniella must be prepping him for a future card.

  “Not yet.” She kept her eyes angled down, reading.

  “He’s ready, you know.”

  “I know.”

  His face hardened. “Then why isn’t he scheduled?” He blurted the question out before his brain put the brakes on the thought. Damn. He didn’t mean to add to her stress.

  She exhaled. “Do we have to get into this now?”

  Jack walked around the table and she leaned forward, allowing him to wedge himself between the back of her chair and the wall. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently rubbed her muscles. The tension under his fingertips rolled around in hard, knot-shaped balls. He pressed deeper, harder on each one, smoothing out the stress. He found the largest, tightest lump sitting at her nape, and applied gentle pressure until the tension released, and it was as if she melted underneath his hands.

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning into his touch.

  He removed his hands from her neck, and she stretched. Pulling her shoulders back, this automatically pushed her amazing tits forward, and he allowed his eyes to travel down the front of her.

  A bird’s-eye view of the most amazing body he’d ever seen.

  “You need a break,” he said.

  She lifted her chin in his direction. “A break? Do you really think we have time?”

  He shrugged. “Probably not, but it’d do us both some good.”

  She glanced across the table at a pile of papers, and sighed. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Hot tub.”

  “What?” She laughed. “Where do you think you’re going to find a hot tub?”

  He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Next door.”

  She turned her body in his direction. “Next door?”

  “Yeah, your neighbor saw me out running this morning. He remembered me from the time I was up here with R. L. Guess he’s a bit of a fan and offered me the hot tub. Said he was going out of town, so I should help myself.”

  Shaking her head as if she didn’t believe him, Daniella reached across the table and grabbed the papers. “Well, I’ve got too much work to do, but you go ahead.”

  “Aw, come on.”

  “No, but thanks for the offer.”

  He felt his face pull down. “Have it your way,” he said, moving to the door. “But do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “After you finish your paperwork, come find me in the hot tub. Those knots were a bitch to rub out.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Daniella found him surrounded by bubbles. The hot tub’s motor churned as if it were happy to be in use. She walked across the deck at their neighbor’s house and peeked inside the windows. The darkened rooms filled her with a sense of calm. Just as Jack had told her, no one was home. He sat alone, scrolling through his phone. She wondered if he had texted one of his l
ate-night booty calls. If his words were true, he didn’t do that anymore, and knowing Jack, he was only checking the sports scores. His phone rang, but he ignored the call.

  Invading his privacy sent a tingle through her. She was no lurker. No voyeuristic weirdo. So she cleared her throat, quietly notifying him of her presence. She didn’t want to startle him. Phones and water didn’t make a good combination.

  He lifted his arm over the edge of the hot tub and placed his phone on the floor. Then he looked at her and flashed a smile, eager and seductive. She shook her head in a nonverbal, Get that thought out of your head, boy way. Why did guys always think of hot tubs as a prelude for sex?

  “So I took your advice,” she said, sitting her bikini-clad body on the edge of the tub. “Instead of finishing up, I came here.”

  “Good.”

  Jack had made himself at home.

  “You’re sure this is okay?” she asked.

  “Yep.” He stretched out his arms and laid them on the rim of the tub, his fingers grazing her knee. When his damp fingers touched her skin, her body hummed. The water looked so inviting, and he, tempting. He didn’t take a suit when he left the cabin, and since his shorts lay on the floor, she knew he sat in the water naked.

  Her eyes focused on the material lying in a shapeless lump, and her stomach tightened. She edged a long leg over the lip of the tub and dipped a foot into the water. “Hot,” she said, because everything else escaped her mind as she took in his wet, naked form.

  “You get used to it,” he replied.

  Seeing Jack’s chest, wet and bare, was a sight Daniella hoped she’d never get used to. Admiring his well-sculpted muscles sent what felt like overweight butterflies flapping in her stomach. She ground her teeth. After all these years, the sight of him still affected her in ways that felt like a comfortable betrayal.

  Like it or not, she knew she’d never get over him. He was her first, but even if he wasn’t, they had shared the kind of relationship that you didn’t get over. Just because they’d broken up didn’t mean the feelings drifted away.

  And those kinds of relationships always held a chance of blowing back right in her warm, jaw-clenched face.

  He scooted his body away from her, as if allowing her some personal space. “Are you coming in?”

  She lowered both legs into the water and the rest of her body followed.

  “It’s good, right?” He lifted his eyebrows as if he were waiting on her approval.

  “Yeah, Jack. The water is fine.”

  He gave a satisfied nod, lifted his face to the sky, and eased into a state of relaxation.

  As the bubbles surrounded her, the hot water did little to ease Daniella’s tension. In fact, seeing him so deliciously relaxed shot a wave of need through her body, one that made her want to slide to his side of the tub and wrap her legs around his slick, naked body.

  She started to shift right, toward Jack, and he said, “Don’t let the situation stress you out.”

  “What?” Dear God, had he read her mind?

  “The gym will turn around.”

  Her spine stiffened just thinking about the state of the gym.

  She nodded, agreeing. “What was it Dad used to say?”

  He snorted out a laugh. “The more you stir shit, the more it stinks.” Jack raised his head from the edge. “Let your problems settle before you start to fix them.”

  She chuckled, sinking down into the water and relaxing. “I guess you’re right. I shouldn’t have let the financial status of Stamina get to me the way it did. I suppose I’m just feeling the pressure.” She looked over at him. Her eyes drank him in. Hot, sweaty, and sexy. “You have to admit, an eviction notice is enough to keep anyone up at night.”

  Jack’s face took on a serious look. “Of course it is.”

  “I know the creditors don’t care about all the hard work, the extensive training, and the sacrifice on both your part and mine in order to breathe new life into Stamina. But the truth is, we’re only going to get one shot at this.”

  It was if the air holding his cheeks up in a smile started to deflate as his face slowly fell.

  “So that’s why you haven’t booked Mike a fight.”

  She locked her eyes on his baby blues. “Yes. Mike has to know he’s got something to fight for, a gym, a trainer, and a team that believes in him. If I’m unable to provide a solid foundation, he needs to go and fight for someone who can. In Mike’s case, it’s not about wins on the card, it’s about a career.” Her confession came out in a rush.

  “I see.”

  “A guy as seriously dedicated as Mike can’t afford to have his career fall into the wrong hands. You and I know Vegas. The people in it. We grew up there. We’ve hardened to the way things are. The deceit. The politics. And we can see right through it. But Mike? He’s not a local like we are. And if his career ends up in the hands of people who will use him as a stepping stone, he’ll be punch drunk by the time he’s thirty-five.”

  Thank goodness her mouth closed before she continued the thought lingering in her head. They both knew Jack’s career hung on the next fight. A loss and all of it was done. And a win meant a baby step in the right direction toward a championship fight, and the possibility that all of the guys in the gym could get on a card.

  An awkward silence settled over them. Together they sat in the tub, listening to the roar of the motor, the gulping sounds of the bubbles, and the occasional car accelerating up the mountain behind them.

  After a few moments, Jack said, “This feels right.”

  “What?”

  “This. All of it. You. Me. The training plan we’ve been working on. The fight is scheduled. The timing feels right.”

  Unable to follow his train of thought, she asked, “What are you talking about?”

  Jack removed his arms from the edge of the tub and moved to sit beside her. His leg grazed her skin. When he touched her, she didn’t know if it was the bubbles under the water or the fact that he had nothing on that made her thighs quiver.

  “You and me look really good on paper. I think it could be really good if we . . .”

  She jerked her head back. “What?”

  He floated closer. His hand gripped her thigh.

  Her stomach tightened.

  She placed her hand on his chest, center mast. His heart drummed under her fingertips.

  Heat radiated off his body. His skin, slick and wet, pressed against her hand. And she found herself in one of those put up or shut up moments. Put up the walls around her heart, the ones she so desperately thought she needed to protect herself whenever it came to her relationship with Jack. Or shut up the past, and lock it away, and start the hell over.

  She swallowed hard, her mind racing.

  He pulled her close to him, dipped his head, and leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head away. He held her there. Tight. A breath away from his body.

  And she fixed her eyes on the bubbling water.

  As the silence grew it was as if the space that separated them widened with every roll and splash inside the tub. Her heart drummed inside her chest.

  She wet her lips. “I don’t want you to think that when I kissed you, I didn’t mean it. That I didn’t have feelings for you. In fact, I don’t think my feelings for you ever went away. And you’re right, we make a good team. I want our relationship to stay that way. Taking things farther would only screw it up.”

  Shaking his head, he tried to object, but she continued, “It’s important we don’t get wrapped up. We have history, and it wasn’t a good one.”

  “You left me,” he blurted out.

  “Because you pushed me away.”

  They both fell silent. Because once the truth was out there, what more was left to say?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The bell rang. Jack clapped his gloves together, nodded to Mike across the ring, and they both came out swinging. Three rounds. Sparring. The shit was on. Daniella had chosen to work Mike’s corner, and Shakes had driven up t
o work Jack’s.

  “Don’t go easy on him,” Shakes yelled directions from behind the ropes. “Go full out. Mike can take it.”

  “Work his body,” Daniella said from the other side of the room, shouting directions to Mike. “Deliver the left hook, go for the power shots.”

  He and Mike touched gloves, testing each other out. Then Mike led with a jab to Jack’s head. The protective gear and the Vaseline Shakes applied to his forehead before the match helped Mike’s glove slide across his face. No harm done.

  But the next punch wasn’t as easy.

  Mike, listening to Daniella, delivered a fierce left hook. The punch landed so hard his teeth rattled.

  Damn, boy.

  The time Mike had spent in the gym lifting weights had really helped his power shots. Jack pivoted, landing a few quick jabs to Mike’s head, and Mike took a few steps back, recovering.

  “Go for the body,” Daniella yelled.

  And Mike did as he was instructed. He backed Jack against the ropes and landed two quick upper cuts, working his ribs and body. Pain darted through his abdomen. His punches landed over and over, and he knew Daniella had told him to emulate his future opponent, Boom Boom Cortez’s style.

  Jack pushed Mike a few steps back, opening up a gap between them, but Mike didn’t let up.

  At three minutes, a bell rang out, and Shakes yelled, “Time!”

  Jack and Mike broke apart, each heading to their corners, for their one minute rest period.

  Grunting in between labored breaths, pain surged through Jack’s rib cage.

  He turned his head toward Daniella. Her eye roll told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t satisfied with his showing in the ring. He had to do better. She expected more.

  Daniella perched a hand on her hip, not taking her eyes off Jack. The ferocity of her look, the way her dark brown eyes honed in on him, was worse than any punch he’d received in the ring.

  Shakes picked up Jack’s mouthpiece and slid it between his lips. Anchoring it in place, Jack rolled his shoulders, loosening up before the bell rang, and another three minutes of abuse started.