I frown. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
She holds up her fists, “What’s wrong? You think you’ll lose?”
Fuck her. I can’t figure this bitch out! I hold up my gloves. “Fine.”
“Pick a referee to make the call,” she says.
“Marianna,” I say, and she excitedly jumps up into the ring, smoothie still in hand.
“First three, clean jabs wins. Boxing rules only, all right, Laurel?” Marianna says, laying out the rules of the deal.
“Fine,” Laurel hisses.
“Go!” Marianna decrees, and Laurel comes in hot. She immediately lands a jab; I didn’t think her jabs would be that fast. “One for Laurel!” Marianna decrees. I’m going to fucking lose my job.
We sashay around the ring for a minute, and as soon as I see an opportunity I deliver two, quick jabs. “Damn! Two for Jonathan!” Marinna shouts.
Laurel swings, but she only punches my gloves. We’re both starting to act for defensive than offensive. After a moment of staring one another down, I go for it. I leave myself open when I miss the swing, and Laurel gets me right in the jaw. “It’s two-two! Next jab wins!” Marianna is practically giddy.
Then I see it. This slight curl in her lip –she’s fighting back a smile. And what she is doing is subtle –too subtle for any of her friends to notice, but she widens her stance and opens herself up for me to jab her. I go in and deliver a third, clean jab to her chest. “And Jonathan is the winner!” Marianna hoots.
She let me win?
“Damn, Laurel,” Britany huffs, “I thought you had him.”
Laurel hops out of the ring and grabs the smoothie I had brought over for her. “I’m not a boxer, Britany. Cut me some slack.”
I smile and hop out of the ring. “I’ll pick you up tonight at eight,” I say with a wink before leaving the women to their training.
There is an undeniable excitement in me as I finish up my day at the gym. The best part? Every once in a while when I glance across the room, I can see Laurel smiling over at me, making me feel slightly flustered whenever I catch her staring–and it’s a good feeling to have.
46
Thankfully for me, there is a carnival in town. Normally, I would take a woman on a pretty extravagant date, but I don’t make the kind of money that I used to. Surprisingly enough, Laurel is really into the carnival scene. I feel like a kid on a first date here, but it’s actually a lot more fun than dinner and a movie would have been.
We pig out on corn dogs and funnel cake, play some rigged carnival games, and ride a few rides. I get her holding my hand by the time we’re getting onto the Ferris wheel. “You’re not one of those assholes who are going to shake the bucket, are you?” she asks as the Ferris wheel takes us up.
I laugh, “Damn, you figured out my plan.”
“Not funny,” she says.
“Don’t tell me the former marine, MMA star is afraid of heights?” I question.
“Not really –just don’t make me woozy,” she warns. “I remember when I was younger, like high school, going to fairs and hating it when guys would do that.” I lean forward slightly once we start to go around, and the bucket tils with me; she grips my arm and cusses under her breath
“You see, now, that’s why guys would do that,” I say and lean back, throwing my arm over her and promising not to be an ass by getting her all freaked out. Now that I have her in a confined space, I lean over and kiss her forehead, and she melts into my embrace. “I can’t figure you out, Laurel,” I admit. “I mean; do you like me or hate me?”
She laughs, “Now I really do feel like I’m in high school again.”
“I’m serious,” I say, “First we almost sleep together, then you throw me out on the street drunk out of my mine. I run into you at the gym, and you act like you want me dead. Then we have coffee, and you invite me back to your place –we have a lot of fun, and you make me breakfast. Then I see you at the gym, and you act like you want me to drop dead. Then you let me win our little sparring match so that I get to take you on a date. You’re sending me some mixed signals, Laurel.”
“I guess I am,” she says once I lay it all out for her. “I guess what it comes down to is that I don’t want to like you, but I do.”
“That doesn’t help me to understand where we are any better,” I say.
I feel her fingers reach up and touch my cheek, coaxing me to look down at her; her head is rested on my chest. We’re at the top of the Ferris wheel now, and she tilts her head upward towards me and closes her eyes. I lean in and kiss her. The moment turned out a lot more romantic than I thought it would with the way the stars are out, the slight breeze, and just how close we are seated together. She gasps slightly when we pull apart. I take a good look at her; she looks beautiful. Her long blonde hair is down, which I rarely see, and it curls slightly on the ends. Those shimmering blue eyes stare back at me with a sense of longing.
There’s a sort of inner struggle I’m feeling as Laurel’s hand clasps mine tightly and as she leans her head on me, resting it on my chest as the wind causes us to sway at the top of the Ferris wheel. Should I really be doing this at all? I mean, should I really be pursing something with Laurel when Brandi is out there somewhere carrying my unborn child? Shouldn’t I be more focused on trying to restore that relationship? Who am I kidding? Brandi made it pretty clear that she would never take me back. Maybe getting myself straightened out is what’s important –at least then Brandi might actually let me into my child’s life. I just don’t feel like I’m getting things straightened out fast enough.
We leave the carnival, heading out to the parking lot to where my stupid, pink car is seated up. “Mmm… that thing is a serious mood killer,” Laurel jokes as I climb over the passenger’s side to open up the driver’s side door. She’s still holding the teddy bear I had won her at the ring toss, and for some reason this moment is just so perfect. She’s standing there, waiting for me to hold the door open for her, her arms gently hugging this oversized bear. I catch myself looking her up and down, staring at those beautifully fit legs she’s showing off in her shorts.
“Yeah,” I say, snapping myself back into reality as I help her into the passenger’s side and then run around to the driver’s side.
We head back to her apartment, and we talk the entire ride there about the carnival, about the gym, and about her career as a mixed martial artist. I pull up outside of her apartment complex, and she smiles at me. “You’re coming up, right?” she asks.
I smile. “Of course,” and I follow her up to her apartment.
She puts her teddy bear down on the couch and then pulls me back to her bedroom. We fall onto the bed, and our lips interlock; she lays her head on my right arm, which brings us closer together. I’m not exactly expecting much after what happened last time she invited me up to her apartment, but for the time being I’m pretty content just being around her –kissing her.
I suddenly feel her hand reach down and stroke me outside of my pants, and I swear if she’s planning on teasing me all night I’m leaving. She reaches both hands down, and she undoes my belt and zipper. “Laurel-” I say as though I’m going to ask her to stop; honestly, after having her cut me off twice in the past, I’m kind of worried she’s going to regret it. I don’t want her to regret it.
“It’s okay,” she says, and she smiles at me.
I’m still me, I suppose, because it doesn’t take much to convince me that she’s fine. I throw my pants over the side of the bed and remove my shirt; she was even quicker than me –she’s down to her bra and underwear as I am throwing my shirt to the floor. I take in the scenery for a moment; she’s gorgeous. She laughs at me, and I realize I have been staring at her longer than I probably should have. I kiss her –on her lips, her cheeks, her neck, and her chest. I run my fingers over her stomach softly, tickling her. She takes off her bra, tossing it off the bed, and I explore the new territory as I had with her lips.
There’s this excitement building up
inside me that I cannot quite explain. We drop our underwear, and she gets really handsy. I certainly don’t mind. I enter inside her, and she has this look of absolute satisfaction written all over her face. She giggles suddenly and says, “This is a lot better sober.”
I laugh, “Just don’t throw me out in the hall this time.”
We both laugh together this time. I’ve never felt so playful in bed before. It’s in this moment that I realize I’m falling for this woman, and I’ve never wanted anything more than for her to feel the same. We curl up next to one another under the blankets, and we fall asleep wrapped together in a tight embrace.
47
I’m panicking, and Tyler is laughing at me like a jackass. “Would you just help me find it, already?” I snap as I tear open another box.
“Easy, man, you’re not going to be late,” Tyler says as he goes digging through another box. “I can’t believe you waited until the morning of your meeting before looking for one of your suits.”
I still haven’t gone through all of my boxes of clothes I had gotten from Brandi… I still can’t believe she packed my suits in boxes! Honestly! “Look, I’ve got to be leaving in the next twenty minutes, and I can’t show up looking like a bum.”
Damion actually did it. He set me up with a meeting with a boxing manager; the guy is low key, but I really couldn’t care less. If it means I could box professionally –or even in the amateur leagues, I’m all for it. “Suits!” Tyler calls out from the other side of his apartment, “I got a box of suits!”
“Thank God!” I hurry over to him and attempt to find a matching jacket and pants. Tyler is still laughing at me when I leave the apartment. I cringe when I climb over the passenger’s side seat of the car to open up my driver’s end. Fuck this car. I peel out, and head across the city to where I’m supposed to be meeting this potential manager.
The guy wanted to meet at a coffee shop; I had hoped to meet at his office, but I’m desperate. I pull up outside the coffee shop and head inside; I have no idea what the guy looks like, so I’m relieved when I hear my name being called, “Jonathan Trial?”
I turn and see… what am I looking at? There’s this kid staring back at me; he looks to be maybe twenty-two. Damion, you prick. “Um, yes,” I say, and the kid shakes my hand. Please, please, please be the manager’s assistant.
“I’m Caleb Aberrant. We spoke on the phone?” he says.
No. Fuck. “Yeah,” I say, trying not to let him see the disappointment. He’s a fucking kid. He’s dressed in jeans and baby blue V-neck, and he’s wearing a ball cap… backwards, of course.
We go and sit down after ordering some coffee. He probably doesn’t have a fucking office –that’s probably why we’re meeting in a damn coffee shop. “So I’m a big fan of yours,” he says, and I nod along.
“Thanks,” I say.
He rolls his eyes at me suddenly. “I can tell you’re thrilled to be here,” he says, completely calling me out. “Should I just leave?”
“Oh, no, please, um, Mr. Aberrant-”
“Come on, man, just call me Caleb,” he says, not looking too happy with me. “I get it. I’m not exactly what you were expecting, and a guy who’s been there done that like you have, well, I guess I’m a little bit of a disappointment. I work with amateur guys mostly, so taking you on would be a whole new experience for me. But, to be honest, I’m not sure I even want to.”
I frown. God, I’m so desperate. “Oh?” I say.
“I have some concerns. You’re not exactly well liked in the public eye right now, your rap sheet is less than impressive, you lost a significant number of matches towards the end of your so-called career, and last I heard you’re a struggling alcoholic. If your name wasn’t Jonathan Trial, we wouldn’t even be here,” he says, throwing me off. He’s straight and to the point –professional, I guess is what you’d call it. As soon as I saw him, I started expecting this to be easy; he’s a kid, but he certainly is not acting like one.
“I understand your concerns,” I say, nervously scratching at the decorative stamp on the side of my coffee cup, “And I’m working on all of that. I have a lawyer who’s helping me straighten out some of the problems with my criminal record as well as some stories that have been misconstrued by the media. I’m in AA now too, and I’m not completely out of practice. I’m working at a gym as a trainer, so I won’t have to start over at square one.”
“That doesn’t exactly help with the whole public opinion thing,” Caleb says, “I can’t take on a fighter if I can’t sell tickets to his fights.”
“Well,” I say, “A lot of the problem was people thinking-”
“That you’re a misogamist prick,” Caleb says, “That video of you beaming your wife in the face isn’t going to just go away. And the clip of you bashing female boxers.”
“I know,” I say, “But I’m trying. The gym I work at is a women’s only gym. I’m helping to set up a fundraiser this year through them for the Battered Women’s House.”
Caleb laughs, “You’re working at a women’s only gym?”
“Okay, come on, did you not hear me?” I ask.
“Yeah, I heard you –a fundraiser for the Battered Women’s House,” he says and waves me off a bit. “All right, look, here’s what I’m going to do. I want you to get a lot of press at that event. I’m sure your boss won’t mind. It’ll be good publicity for the gym. See what your lawyer can do about getting one of the local stations to run a story about you heading up the event specifically. I also want you to stay sober,” Caleb scribbles down something on a napkin. “Come by this gym on Saturday; I’m going to have one of my trainers do an assessment of where you’re at.”
“Are you saying you’re going to sign me?” I ask.
“Oh, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Caleb snorts, “I’m saying you’re a washed up loser, and the only reason I’m even remotely interested is because I used to be a fan before you screwed yourself over. Get your shit together, and I’ll consider taking you on.” He rises from his seat, “And show up Saturday for your assessment.”
He leaves the coffee shop, and I sink within myself. I’m such a joke that I can’t even get a newbie manager to sign me without proving myself. I finish my coffee and return to Tyler’s, feeling incredibly disappointed.
48
I drag my feet into work; I wonder if I’m going to work here at this gym for the rest of my life? Yes, working alongside a group of women who absolutely hate me is just what I need –and doing it for the rest of my hopeless life. I wish that meeting with the manager had gone better; he had basically dangled a carrot in front of me. “Yo, Jonathan!” I hear Britany’s stupid voice call out as soon as I enter the gym for my afternoon shift. Honestly –do these stupid women live here?
I turn on my heels. “Yeah?” I question.
She comes prancing right up to me. “Hey, I’ve been working on what I’m going to teach in that self-defense course at your little fundraiser,” she says, “sometime today do you mind having a look at me, I don’t know what you’d call it, I guess lesson plan?”
Did she just make it through a whole sentence without insulting me? And she is asking for my help on something? “Um… yeah, sure Britany. I appreciate you signing up for the event.”
“Of course,” she says, and she has this goofy grin on her face.
“What?” I ask slowly.
“Nothing,” she says, looks me up and down, and then trots off towards the boxing ring where the other women are all looking my way with the same silly smiles.
I catch Laurel’s eyes, and she blushes and looks away. My face turns bloodshot when I hear the women laughing; she told her friends. She seriously told her friends all about it. Women are fucking weird. I mean, guys will tell their friends when they have sex, sure, but not the way women do it. They give detail. They talk about private things –what the hell did she tell them about me?
Quickly, I put as much distance between myself and the boxing ring as possible. Besides, I
have a class to teach. The soccer moms are all gathered around on the second floor inside one of the large training rooms that overlooks the main area of the gym. The large glass windows allow us to look out, and it allows others to take a peek inside –it’s good because I’ve gotten a lot of women to sign up for one of my classes that way; they’ll be running around the second floor track of the building and pass by, pause a moment to take a peek inside, and then the next thing I know I have five more people signed up for my classes.
The class goes over well; these women here love me. They laugh and joke around, but they get serious when I am teaching them something new. I swear, there are always new faces. By the time the training session is done, I am sweating a bit. I forgot to bring a towel. I frown as the women are exiting the room.
One of them comes hurrying up to me, towel in hand. I smile to thank her, but before the words come out of my mouth she drapes the towel over my shoulders, still holding onto both ends so it forces us to stand really close. “Uh… thanks, Carrie,” I say to her.
She smiles, “I really enjoyed your class today, Jonathan.”
“Well, I try,” I say, attempting to take a step back, but she’s got a serious grip on the towel she’s now got draped around my neck.
I see the fighters, Laurel included, all running the track on the second floor –all looking my way. “So, listen,” Carrie says, this excited look on her face, “this weekend I’m throwing a little barbeque by the pool-”
“So like a party?” I say, doing my best to look away from her as she brings her face closer and closer to mine. What do I do? Push her?
“Well, not exactly, I was honestly just thinking it would be me and you,” she says.
“Hey Jonathan,” Laurel’s voice calls from the doorway, and Carrie lets go of my towel; I step back immediately.
“Yeah?” I say enthusiastically.
“I had fun the other night,” she says, “I’d like to do it again sometime.”
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 143
