by Knight, JJ
Until now, anyway.
I decide to change the subject before either of us gets too embarrassed. “So, I saw Angel yesterday.”
Zero sits up very straight. “What? Where?”
Now I have to confess. “I sort of went back to that dance hall where the show was.”
His forehead crumples in confusion. “Did you leave something behind?”
My heart, I think, but say, “No, I was just being stupid and sentimental. But Angel left his wings. He was there picking them up.”
I can see the color rising in Zero’s face. “Did something happen?” I ask. I remember Angel’s longing look, how he said he “crashed and burned.”
That night I was wrapped up in seeing Brittany and her mystery man. But now I seem to remember Zero being a little flustered on the way home.
Zero doesn’t answer, his mouth tight.
“What did you and Angel do?” I ask.
“Nothing!” Zero says. “I mean, it started. But I had to stop it.”
This is new. “Are you changing your mind about him?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Never.” He hops up from the sofa. “Do you have any food in this godforsaken place?”
I decide to let him evade the subject. “Boy, do I ever.”
And we head into the kitchen to dive into LA’s second-highest-priced pizza.
Chapter 7
Walking to Buster’s Gym makes me nervous. I’m glad to go back to work, but anxious that someone might recognize me. To help, I bought a few things at a secondhand store yesterday. I know my red hair should hide me, but Zero thought a few new clothes would be a good idea.
Probably he just wants to dress me up in something other than hoodies. But I let him.
Zero picked out the new jacket I’m wearing. It’s nothing I would ever have owned before, dark blue imitation leather that zips up the front. Zero said it was the perfect complement for my new hair. It’s the girliest thing I’ve owned since I was little, sort of fitted at the waist and decorated with little silver studs.
Beneath the jacket is the shirt for Buster’s Gym. I’m not sure why, but now I’m not embarrassed by the tight fit anymore. I want Colt to see me, to think about me that way.
Even though my red hair is new, Zero decided to change my whole look. Instead of the single ponytail, my hair is divided into two. Zero showed me how to roll each section into a tight knot low near my neck and secure it with a band, like miniature Princess Leia coils. I don’t look anything like I did two days ago.
I hope I’m ready.
Colt’s Harley is parked out front even though it’s early. My heart speeds up.
When I open the door, the first people I see are Buster and Brittany. They sort of nod at me and continue their conversation.
I flush with anxiety at the sight of them, but they are acting like it’s no big deal. We all have a role to play, I realize. I can’t be anyone important.
The clipboard on the wall of Buster’s office still has “Jo” written on it, though I see he’s dropped my last name. Another precaution, I guess. I scrawl the time down and head to the bathroom to put away my jacket.
There’s a change in here too. Instead of open cubes, there’s now a set of six metal lockers. Four of them are cocked open and have a key on a long loop to wear like a necklace. The other two are shut tight. More security. I fold my jacket inside one and lock it. My sweats don’t have pockets, so I put the key over my head and slide it under my shirt to keep it out of the way.
I head into the weight room. Brent obviously didn’t do much yesterday, as iron plates are stacked against all the walls and dumbbells are scattered at the base of every bench.
The accordion door is closed, which typically means Colt is in the new addition with his trainer.
I hear a grunting sound and turn to see Lani in the corner doing pull-ups on a bar. Watching her muscles strain to lift her, I realize how far I have come. I’m starting to look a lot like her, lean and muscled like a fighter in training should.
Lani stops when she sees me, like she’s shocked I’m there. As her stare holds, I realize with a bit of panic that she is someone who will know those pictures are of me. She’s been a friend at the gym, but really, I don’t know much about her at all.
“Your hair!” she says.
I hurry over before anyone else thinks too hard about my change and recognizes me. I wonder if I should let her in on the secret. I don’t even know if she was there on Monday when everything happened. I decide to be cautious. “I changed it,” I said.
“It’s pretty.” She drops from the bar. “Looks expensive.”
She can’t know how much money I have, or don’t have. I shrug. “I got a good deal.”
I decide the less said, the better. I start rolling the free-weight discs back to their racks.
Lani watches me for a while like she’s puzzling something out. She’s been a friend to me, but Colt is more important. I’m dying to go in the addition. He probably doesn’t know I’m here yet.
Brittany enters the room and loads a couple plates on the bench press. Lani retreats to a corner, as if knowing we can’t talk now. I breathe a little easier, even though my hackles are set off by Brittany.
It takes a solid hour to get the room straight. Lifters come in for their workouts, a few standing by the closed accordion door, as if wondering if it’s safe to go through.
Buster is in his office. I pop my head in. “Is the addition closed for Colt? Some lifters want to go back there.”
He frowns. “Let me see what’s going on.”
I want to volunteer to check on Colt but step aside to let him pass. Usually the addition is where I spend my day, but now I’m not sure of anything.
Maybe I can tackle the storage room. I open the door, catching a tumbling medicine ball. Colt’s father stares down from his poster. I wonder if I’ll meet him. If I want to.
My phone buzzes against my skin. I don’t have pockets, so I’ve tucked it inside my athletic bra. I look around a second, then pull it out. It’s Colt.
Are you here?
I quickly tap out a yes. The phone buzzes again.
Come to the addition.
My heart hammers. I close the closet door.
In the weight room Brittany is still bench-pressing. Lani is hitting the corner bag. The room is pretty full now, but everyone ignores me. The hair is working. Nobody points to say, “Isn’t that Kettle Belle?” Maybe we all assumed people would care but no one does. My fifteen minutes of fame have ended.
I push open the accordion door. Buster is just inside it, watching Colt jump rope. He’s actually in shoes and a shirt, so they’ve been doing regular workout stuff back there, not just sparring in the ring.
Buster looks like he’s about to ask what I’m doing there when Colt drops the rope. “Good,” he says. “I want to work with her. We’ll do squats together,” he tells the trainer.
The man’s face is impassive. Buster turns to head back into the main room. I shudder a little as I realize no one wants me around, but they have to listen to Colt. I can’t imagine Buster likes paying someone to work out.
Colt walks up and squeezes my arm. “Good morning.”
“Is this a good idea?” I whisper. “Buster is paying me.”
“He can deal with it. I’m paying for his security, which is a heck of a lot more than you.”
The trainer strides up like a drill sergeant. “Back to work. Twenty lengths of the mat, squat to side kicks.”
“Let’s go,” Colt says. He takes my hand and everything goes warm. He leads me over to the long length of blue floor mat on the far side of the ring. “Do what I do.”
He steps in front of me, legs wide, and drops down low. His thigh muscles bulge. I’m so distracted by this that when he leans for a side kick, I still haven’t moved.
The trainer looks disgusted. “Keep moving,” he says to Colt. To me, he says, “Get low, weight in your heels. When you come up, explode from the hip into the
kick.”
I do what he says.
“Good,” he says. “Watch your form. Go.”
Colt is already halfway down the mat. I don’t try to catch up, just follow his lead. He arrives at the end and begins his return. He smiles over his shoulder when we pass.
I’m dying. By the end of the mat, my butt is screaming for mercy. My leg is barely getting two feet off the ground. I start the way back. Colt catches up, finishes the length, and laps me.
When I make it to the end, the trainer says, “Eighteen more to go.” I can see the smirk in his eyes.
I start the second round. It’s actually a little easier to keep momentum, so I speed up. The trainer yells, “Form! Height! Explode!” But I pretend that it is for Colt and ignore him.
There’s no way I’ll make it to twenty. By the time Colt finishes his rounds, I’m only halfway through. He watches for a minute, and I flood with embarrassment. But he just nods in encouragement and puts on the gloves his trainer hands him.
They disappear on the other side of the ring, where the bags are. I keep going as best I can. My legs are wobbly now, and every once in a while I feel a burst of lightheadedness, like I might faint. Some tough fighter I’m turning out to be. I clamp my jaw and force myself to get through it.
When I finally get to twenty, I no longer care what anyone thinks. I flop to the ground. My legs quiver, refusing to lie still.
Colt has moved into the ring. His shirt and shoes are off. He pushes against the mesh wall above me. “Good work, rookie,” he says. “Go do some speed reps.”
I groan. I can’t even get up. I close my eyes. After a second, I feel water splattering on my face. I sit up with a start. Brittany laughs. “Tough first day?” She holds a water bottle at an angle, like she’s about to do it again.
She tosses a pair of slender black gloves in my lap. “It ain’t over yet.” She flounces away.
Is she going to be in here too? I put on the gloves slowly, to buy a little more recovery time. Colt is back to pounding the pads the trainer is holding. He moves around the ring, his feet never still.
I have to roll to my knees and use my arms to help me stand. It hits me just how far I have to go.
The speed bag is a relief compared to the squats. I begin to relax. Working out in the same room with Colt makes me feel like we’re connected.
“Lunch,” the trainer says. “I’ll go pick it up.”
“I’ll go with you,” Brittany says. “Yesterday’s was crap. I want to see what choices they have.”
“Back in twenty,” the trainer says to Colt. “Do some bag work.”
He doesn’t acknowledge me. I keep the bag going, glad I’ve been practicing.
When we’re alone in the addition, Colt opens the cage. “Come on up here,” he says.
I stop the speed bag. My heart is in my throat. I walk over to the steps, but when I try to go up the first one, my leg gives out.
Colt reaches down to catch my arm. “I can’t believe you did them all.”
I feel humiliated that I can barely get up the steps. I clutch his arm as I make my way. “I generally do what I’m told,” I say.
“Do you, now?” His voice has taken on that sexy rumble.
Suddenly I can’t breathe. He’s close, his skin covered with a light sheen of sweat. I know there are people on the other side of the accordion door, but right now, we’re very much alone.
Chapter 8
I lean against the mesh of the cage. “What did you want to do up here?” I ask.
“Something like this,” he says, and he leans in.
When his lips brush against mine, I ignite. After a day without him, I feel desperate. My arms go right around him to press in close.
His reaction is almost instant between us, a sudden hard bulge against my belly. I am shocked at how easy it comes. His mouth isn’t gentle now, and he strips off his gloves behind my back. They drop to the floor.
Now his hands are on my hips, driving us together. My legs start to give so he lifts me, drawing my knees around him. I’m straddling him in midair. He rocks against me. I can feel every solid inch through my sweats. I can follow his rhythm, how the thrusts would go if this were for real. I can’t even imagine what it would be like if he were inside me. But the rub against my sensitive parts is excruciating. I want it harder, I want it connected.
I do something I’ve never done in my whole life and reach down to touch him. My hand snakes between us. I can’t do much in the gloves, but I straighten him so he’s up and down, and the contact is more direct.
He groans against my mouth and breaks the kiss. His breathing is fast against my neck.
Now he’s sliding the full length against me, lifting and lowering my body. He steps up to the wall of the cage and pushes me against one of the padded poles. This frees up one hand to snake beneath my shirt.
When his fingers graze my bare skin, I lurch against him. I can’t believe I’ve waited so long to feel this way. If only I had known. Every part of me is completely on fire.
Each touch is electric. His thumb crosses a nipple on the outside of my bra, and I jump again. I grind against him, not caring about the burn in my thighs. It’s nothing compared to everything else.
I want more connection. More skin. I want his mouth on me. The need for release is intense. But I’m not sure there is even anything I could do to myself that would quench this. It will have to be him. I just don’t know how or where.
A lifetime of hiding is ending. I can’t help myself, but reach for the bottom of my shirt and whip it off. It’s nothing, really, showing the oversized athletic bra, no less than what the other girls wear every day. Colt knows what I’m after, and his mouth covers a breast, his breath hot even through the fabric. He lifts the cell phone out of his way and drops it on my shirt.
I’m dying. I want to completely forget everything I’ve ever been, and all that I’ve been afraid of. It doesn’t matter where we are. I want to do everything with this man. I don’t care about the risk, getting caught, any consequences. I want to touch him, really touch him. I strip the gloves off my hands. My fingers run through his hair as his teeth find a taut nipple, and my body responds again.
I memorize the feel of his corded neck, the bulge of his shoulders, and the flexed arms holding me against the cage. I want his mouth on me, right on me. I arch against him, hoping he’ll understand. And he does it, lifting the bottom edge of the bra. I’m exposed, completely at his mercy. When his lips close over my bare breast, it happens. I start to come.
Colt feels that shudder in me. He knows what it is, and drives his hips against me. Even through the shifting fabric of my sweats, the hard length of him in spandex fighting shorts slides just the right way, triggering another cascade of pleasure. His mouth tugs at my nipple, and now it’s unstoppable. The shock waves cascade through me, and all I can do is hang on. I bury my face in the crook of my elbow to avoid crying out. He holds me until it starts to subside.
I’m shocked at myself. I can’t believe I’ve just done this. The cool air chills my damp breast, and I shiver. Colt presses me tight against him. We breathe together. I’m not sure what to feel. Ashamed, maybe, that I was so brazen. Desperate, too, because I need him like nothing else I’ve ever felt. Is he weirded out? I don’t seem to have pushed him to where he wants to take it all the way. At least not here, where anyone can walk in.
He lets my legs come down. I stand a little unsteadily. He tugs my bra back into position.
I can’t look him in the face, so I lean my forehead on his chest. His arms stay around me.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he says.
I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
When I don’t speak, he lifts my chin. His eyes are shining happy. “I am going to fall so hard for you.”
I realize that I already have.
The accordion door bangs open. “Break it up, lovebirds!” Brittany calls out. “You have spectators.”
I scramble for my shir
t. Colt turns his back to the mesh to block their view of me as I yank it on. I reach for my gloves, and when I stand, he’s still watching me. “Have lunch with us?” he asks.
I shake my head. I don’t feel ready to be around other people. “I should do some work,” I say.
Colt reaches for my phone and hands it to me. “I like knowing where this is,” he says, and the sexiness in his voice sends another spark through me. “Expect some really hot messages direct to your skin.”
I swallow hard. I’m not able to say the words, but I definitely can’t wait.
Chapter 9
Colt’s training gets increasingly intense. His manager has scheduled a secret match for Saturday. Colt hasn’t been in the ring since he canceled the title fight, and everyone is on edge. After getting caught with me in the cage, nobody lets him be alone for even five minutes.
It’s like I’m some sort of threat.
But Colt doesn’t think so. He sends me text messages throughout the day. Sometimes they are just little notes of encouragement about my progress during workouts. Sometimes they are hard core, about my body, his need for me. Things he’d like to do. He just can’t get away to do them right now.
When I think back on the pizza night, it seems like a faraway dream. Something is happening between us, but I’m not allowed any chance to get him alone. He’s at the gym long after Buster escorts me out. There are no more moments like the one in the ring.
I want so much more, but I don’t know how to get it. Maybe Colt doesn’t either right now.
Normally I work even on Saturday, but Buster tells me to take the day off. Everyone’s anxious about the match.
“You going?” Brent asks me as I leave on Friday.
“I don’t know,” I say. My heart starts hammering. Brent doesn’t realize I’m not supposed to know about it. “Are you?”
