Punching and Kissing (9 page)

Aedan

I released her and stood up quickly. I had to put some distance between us or I was going to—
Christ, I nearly snogged her!

I stood there staring down at her.
Feck,
she looked amazing. When I’d first seen her talking to Connor, I’d stood behind her for a while just gazing at that outfit before I interrupted them. Every time she’d moved, the sweatpants had pulled tight over her ass and I’d felt my cock twitch in my pants.

And then she’d been lying under me, sweating and open-mouthed, her lips just slightly trembling in that way they did. And just for a second—

Just for a second, I’d been weak.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m a shitty teacher.”

“Well, I’m a lousy pupil,” she said. “So I guess we match.”

I hesitantly reached out my hand. She grabbed it and pulled herself up. God, she weighed nothing at all. How could I be doing this? How could I be even thinking about sending her into The Pit?

Because without me, she’d have no chance at all.

She stood up straight, dusting herself down, and her breasts bounced in a way that made my cock throb against my thigh. Then she shook back her hair and gave me a worried little smile, and I thought my heart was going to explode. God, I was hardwired to this woman. Every little thing she did sent a charge right through my brain. The rest of the world didn’t seem to exist when she was around, the clang of metal weights and the slap of glove against bag becoming so much distant background hum. All that mattered was her.

And it was only getting worse, the more I was around her.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” I blurted, before I was really aware I was going to say it.

“Well then I guess we better get back to training.” She looked up at me, challenging me. Feck me, I
wasn’t
imagining it. She
was
into me. And I couldn’t allow myself to do a damn thing about it. It was more than just not wanting to hurt her, now. If something happened between us and it went wrong and she ran, I wouldn’t be able to help her.

“We should work on your power,” I said. “Let’s test your strength. See where you’re at now, so we’ve got a baseline.”

I showed her over to a weights bench, trying to keep my eyes off her ass. I got her to lie down on her back, then laid a barbell across the supports. I walked around behind her head so I could spot for her, grabbing the weight if she needed me to.

“Just do your best,” I said. I was trying to be more patient, now, cursing myself for getting frustrated before. It wasn’t her fault she was starting from scratch. Hell, she was doing a lot better than me, the first time I ever walked into a gym.

She set her jaw and lifted the barbell out of the supports, then lowered it down to her chest. She lifted it back up and racked it again—easily, because I’d started her out super-light. I figured she needed a win. “Good!” I said, with maybe a little too much enthusiasm.

She gave me a look. “What was that—five pounds? Don’t patronize me.”

I nodded, chastened. This teaching stuff was hard. I added another ten pounds. “Try that.”

She lifted and lowered, steely-eyed. I added more weight. Christ, she might be little but she was determined. As I watched her grunt and push, I started to see beyond the obvious. I was in the perfect position, standing there, to stare right down her top at those gorgeous breasts. But I found myself looking at...
her.
The whole her. Looking at her and thinking how bloody unfair it was that she’d wound up here. I didn’t know what had happened to get her into such a shitty situation. No one fights at The Pit unless they’re desperate for money.

Well, not unless they’re me.

Something must have gone really wrong in her life. She seemed smart and organized and she was driven as hell. She should have been studying to be a lawyer or something and instead she was preparing to fight for her life. It wasn’t right.

She inhaled, then blew it out and pushed the bar up again. It was heavily loaded now, a real struggle for someone her size. Teeth gritted, forearms shaking, she heaved it up towards the top of its path. I put my hands gently under the bar in case her arms gave way.

“Don’t...fucking...help me!” she managed.

“I’m not,” I said. And I wasn’t—my fingers were just barely brushing the underside of the bar. “It’s all you.”

She pushed...and
pushed
and got it back up onto the supports. She lay there panting and grinning in satisfaction. It was the first time I’d really seen her smile and
damn,
the sight of it hit me right in the chest. Then she caught my eye and I found myself grinning, too.

Smiling wasn’t something I did often. I’d forgotten how good it felt.

Sylvie

Aedan told me to grab a shower, because he was taking me to lunch. This being a man’s gym, the women’s changing room was kind of an afterthought, grudgingly added in what might well have been a former broom closet. The sign on the door said WOMAN and I wasn’t sure if that was because they’d misspelled it or because they really didn’t want to encourage women to show up in numbers and dilute the testosterone.

The shower worked, though, and soon I was in the street clothes I’d brought with me, hurrying along the street beside Aedan. “When you say
lunch,”
I said, “you mean, like...a coffee, right?” I was watching him carefully, alert for any sign of that smile coming back. When he’d grinned down at me by the weights bench, it had felt like my whole world had brightened. The memory was burned into my mind—the white teeth, that full lower lip, the way his cheeks dimpled...when he smiled, he went from broodingly handsome to drop-dead gorgeous. I wanted—
needed—
to see that smile again, because it was proof that I was right—that there was something gentler hiding underneath the muscles and scars.

“I mean
lunch.”

“But it’s only just noon! I’m not hungry yet.” I normally didn’t eat lunch for another hour or two, maybe grabbing a sandwich if I remembered.

“You’re in training, now. You need protein.” He turned to look at me. “We need to get some meat on those”—he stared at my arms, then at my legs, which took longer—”bones.”

He showed me into a diner that was practically next door to the gym. The walls were covered in photos, many of them black and white. Every one of them showed a boxer.

“Aedan?” A waitress in her fifties bustled over to us. “Aedan, my sweet Irish boy.” She gave him a hug. “We don’t see you in here enough. And who’s
this?”
She gave me an appraising look, which was roughly comparable to being inside an MRI scanner for an hour.

“Just someone I’m helping,” Aedan told her. “Could you do us a couple of your boxer’s breakfasts?”

She showed us over to a booth, grinning the whole time. When she’d left, I asked, “Your mother?”

“No. She just thinks she is.”

“What’s a
boxer’s breakfast?”

“You’ll find out.”

I looked at him across the blue and white tablecloth. “Where
is
your mom?” Then I paused. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

He looked at me. “I do.”

“You do mind me asking?”

He nodded.

I felt crushed. “Oh. Sorry.”

He sighed and shook his head. “
I’m
sorry. It’s just something I don’t talk about.” He looked at me and then around at the room. “And I’m not good at...this.”

“Lunch?”

“Talking.” He rubbed his face and then gave a wry smile. “I’ve got a brother, Carrick.
He’s
the talker. He’d talk your knickers right off.”

“He wouldn’t,” I said quickly. Because, weirdly, just the idea of it felt like cheating.

“He would.” And then he looked uncomfortable, as if he’d said too much. We descended into an uneasy silence.
Great, now I’ve pissed him off. He hates me.

Aedan

Great, now I’ve pissed her off. She hates me.
I hadn’t meant to shut down the conversation. But my family was one thing I couldn’t talk about. I should never have mentioned my brother.

And then it got worse.

A hand slapped down on my shoulder. There’s a certain way that cops do that, to let you know who’s boss. And there was only one cop who’d have the guts to walk up and do it to me.

“Hi, Charlie,” I said tiredly.

He stepped around to the side so that I could see him. He was barely taller than Sylvie—barely taller than
me,
sitting down. I’d never understood how he got past the academy’s height requirements. Maybe he’d stood on a box the entire time. “How you doing?” he asked, which is cop-speak for
are you keeping your nose clean?

“Good,” I said. “Sylvie, Charlie. Charlie, Sylvie.”

Charlie eyed our clothes. “You training again?” His jaw tightened. “Back at The Pit?”

“No. Teaching.” I looked at Sylvie.

“Yeah,” she said, picking up on my look. “Like a personal trainer. Boxercise.”

Charlie stared at us just long enough to let us know that he didn’t buy it for a second. Then he nodded. “Stay out of trouble.” And, with another pat on the shoulder, he walked off.

Sylvie waited until he’d gone. “Who’s
that
guy?”

“Someone I did a favor for, once.”

“He doesn’t seem all that grateful.”

I winced. “He kind of repaid that debt, already.”

To my relief, the food arrived. A generous steak and two eggs, sunny-side up.

Her eyes bulged. “Are you
kidding me?
You eat that for lunch?”

“No,” I said seriously. “This is breakfast. We’re catching up.”

“I don’t eat that much meat in a
week!”
she squeaked.

I furrowed my brow. “What
do
you eat?”

She shrugged. “Noodles. And a lot of breakfast cereal.”

I sighed. “You’re in training now. We need to build up your body.
Real
food.”

She eyed her steak. “I can’t afford this much
real food.
”