Shifting Gears: The Complete Series (Sports Bad Boy Romance) (51 page)

“Fuck you!” the other man said in a winded
voice as he struggled back upright. He couldn’t leave well enough alone. He
reached out and wrapped a beefy arm around Paul’s neck like he was pulling him
into a one-armed hug. Paul twisted his body with amazing speed and took a step
back. He made getting out of a choke hold look like a walk in the park. He
moved so quickly, as a matter of fact, that the man barely noticed he’d pulled
free before he was rewarded with a kick to the upper thigh, and as he started
to drop, a right cross to the chin. He hit the mat on his knees and Greg said,

“I believe that you have been asked to
leave.”

“You throw me out, you throw this son of a
bitch out too,” the man said, barely able to talk.

“From what I heard, you started it. Paul’s
a member here. You’re not. Besides, this is my gym and I can kick you out just
because you’re ugly if I want to. Now get the fuck out. You’re not welcome back
either. If I see you again I’ll call the police.” The man stumbled back up to
his feet and pointed at Paul. He started to say something else but Greg said,
“I can call them now if you like.” The man gave Paul another look…a warning
look, maybe. Then he turned and walked toward the door, not nearly as straight
and tall as he had been when he came in. When he got to the door he looked back
over his shoulder and said,

“You’ll be sorry, asshole!”

I didn’t know if he was talking to Paul or
Greg, but neither of them looked worried. Paul didn’t even look winded. The big
guy might want to rethink who he was threatening.

CHAPTER
FOUR

“Hey, Jessie, I’ll finish up with Paul
since I’m here if you don’t mind starting on clean-up,”
Greg told me.

“Sure, that’s fine.” I glanced at Paul who
still looked pissed. I wasn’t sure if it was all over the big guy, or if he was
still pissed at me for whatever I had said. I’d rather have cleaned a
stationary machine that I couldn’t easily insult.
 

I went in the back and got the cleaning
product we used and the clean towels. I started near the back and cleaned each
machine, working my way forward. I could hear Paul’s grunts as he worked out
but nothing else. When the grunts stopped I chanced a glance over. Paul was
disappearing into the men’s locker room and Greg was over talking to Victoria.
I was on my last few machines when Paul came back out, freshly showered and in
a clean T-shirt. He looked like a work of art once again.

“Hey, Jessie, we’re going to take off.
I’ll lock you guys in,” Greg said.

“Okay, I’m almost finished. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Jessie. See you tomorrow,
Paul,” Greg said.

“Thanks, Greg,” Paul called after him.
Greg gave him a nod and Victoria waved at us. I waved back and watched them go.
I was sitting on the machine I’d been cleaning and when I looked up, Paul was
standing next to me.

“I’m sorry I got pissed,” he said. “I know
that you didn’t mean anything by telling Mark about my nephew. You just don’t
know the situation and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Oh…” Now that he was apologizing, I had
no idea what to say. “It’s okay.” I finally managed.

“Victor is my sister’s boy. She had him
when she was only sixteen and she’s really sensitive about that. She doesn’t
want people judging her. I know in this day and age…most people wouldn’t, but
she’s had to deal with it from people in her life that should have been the
last people to judge. And now, the more fights I win, the more publicity I get,
and the more people dig into my family and my past. She doesn’t want Victor to
have to go through any of that. That’s why I don’t talk about him.”

I felt like a complete idiot. “I’m sorry;
I have a big mouth sometimes. I was just so embarrassed about last night and
this morning and I was trying to think of some way to start a conversation with
you…” I caught myself and said, “There I go, babbling again. I’m sorry.” He
smiled, then. It was a genuine smile…God, I loved that.

“It’s okay,” he said, taking a seat on the
bench next to the one I was sitting on. “You don’t have anything to be
embarrassed about. That big guy who was just here is Victor’s father.
He’s…well, as you can see he has his issues. My sister doesn’t want him to know
where they are. He’s trying to take Victor from her. He’s not a good guy and
he’s going to take my nephew over my dead body.”

“Oh, wow. Does she have a restraining
order?”

“She has me,” he said. “They go to court
soon. Hopefully all of these things he’s been up to will convince a judge he
doesn’t need to be raising an eleven-year-old boy. If it doesn’t and they order
visitation….” He stopped himself there, but the look on his face said it all. I
actually shuddered. He changed the subject then by saying, “So do you just
train on these machines or do you use them yourself?”

“Wow, now I’m insulted…you can’t tell that
I use them?” I was trying to flirt. I wasn’t sure if it was working or not.

He grinned and said, “I did notice you had
some guns on you. How much can you bench?”

I smiled and said, “Spot me and I’ll show
you.”

He moved off the bench he was on and I
laid down on it underneath the bar. It had a twenty pound weight on each side.
I could press my own weight and then some. “Put a fifty on each end,” I told
him.

“Don’t hurt yourself showing off,” he said
with a grin. My arms were shaking but that was because he was standing so
close.

“Just do it, smart guy!” I told him,
hoping that my voice wasn’t shaking as well. He did and then he acted as my
spotter as I lifted the hundred and forty pounds without much effort. When I
finished he said,

“Impressive. I’m sure that bar outweighs
you.”

“Not by much,” I said.

“Well you look to be pretty much solid
muscle and it’s true what they say that muscle weighs more than fat. How long
have you been working out?”

“I started lifting with my dad when I was
about thirteen,” I told him. “I love to exercise. It makes me happy.” He nodded
like he understood that completely. Once again I lost complete control of my
stupid voice and I said, “My ex-boyfriend didn’t get that. Making natural
endorphins was a foreign concept to him. I always thought he’d be a lot less
troubled if he learned natural ways to deal with his problems.” I suddenly
realized that was way too much information. Paul wasn’t interested in my life
story. Changing the subject again I said, “Hey, if things get to the point
where your sister and nephew need a safe, neutral place…I live alone. They’d be
welcome to stay with me.”

He looked at me strangely, like he was
trying to figure out why I’d offer to do that. He was probably right; I didn’t
even know him…or them for that matter. I just hated knowing that I had
something someone else didn’t, even if it was just a safe, comfortable place to
stay. For a minute

I thought he wasn’t even going to
acknowledge my foolish offer, but then he said, “That’s nice. Thanks.” I stood
up off the bench and as I did our thighs brushed together. I felt a surge of
heat run through me and I knew my face had gone bright red. I really wished I
could read the expression in those blue eyes of his. He could be thrilled or
repulsed. With that neutral expression of his, who the hell knew?

“I better get going,” I said, a little too
quickly.

“Yep. Me too,” he said.

We walked out together and I locked up. He
gave me one last chin-tilt as he drove out of the parking lot in his big
boy-toy. I drove home with butterflies in my stomach telling myself not to let
this guy get under my skin.

*****

When I got home I started gathering up
more laundry. I thought maybe I’d call my mom and go over to her house and do a
load that night. As I was about to call her, my phone rang. It was Sam.

“Hey, Jessie! I hear you had an exciting
day after I left.”

“Yeah, you could say that. Paul was pretty
impressive though, and Greg was pretty badass himself.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, two guys I’d want on
my team when it’s time to throw down. Hey, we’re all meeting over at the arena
at seven. Paul’s fighting tonight.”

“He’s fighting? What was he doing working
out today? He was just benching like two hundred pounds. Is he insane? He’s
going to hurt himself pushing that hard.”

Sam laughed and said, “I tell him that all
the time. He’s hard-headed and one of the most driven people I’ve ever met.
Good luck getting him to listen to reason. He’s fighting a guy named Alex
Wilson tonight. Alex is ranked fourth in Light Heavyweight rankings. It should
be a good match.”

I looked at the laundry and I started to
say no. Then I pictured Paul…there was no contest. “I’ll see you there,” I told
Sam.

I dug out a pair of jeans and sprayed them
with spray and wash and ironed them. Luckily, I had some relatively decent
clean blouses. It was just my work clothes and my jeans I kept running out of.
I took a quick shower and fixed my hair, then knowing Paul might actually see
me, I put on a little makeup as well.

I got to the arena about six thirty and
found the rest of my crew outside waiting for me. Greg had tickets for us all
and we went inside and found our seats. Greg was well-connected in the
community. We got the best seats to every sporting event in town. These were no
exception, front row and on the side that Paul was supposed to be on. The arena
was noisy and everyone in our group was chattering about how Paul was going to
kick the other guy’s ass, and his last fight, and some You Tube video. I wasn’t
a big fan of fighting so I’d never seen him fight nor had I watched his videos.
I was there because of the strange attraction I had to a man who barely spoke to
me. I wondered how many of my friends suspected that was why I was there. My
trainee fighters always tried to get me to go to their bouts. Mark had been
trying since I’d met him almost a year ago. I always refused. I knew that was
silly, and since I spent so much of my time training them, I should’ve wanted
to see my work in action. But when they came to me I didn’t have to watch them
kicking each other’s asses…well, unless a guy’s sister’s ex came in and started
something. It actually surprised me how excited I got watching Paul deal with
that guy. He was just so in control and if he hadn’t already been sweating from
his work-out, I doubted that would have even broken one. I got another little
shiver just thinking about it.

At about five ’til seven the announcer
called out the fighters. Paul came out first; I guessed it was because he
wasn’t the one who carried the title. Alex Wilson was the big draw tonight,
supposedly. I personally didn’t know how anyone would be able to take their
eyes off Paul. He was wearing a pair of light blue trunks and I wondered if he
had matched them to his eyes on purpose. His tattoos shone under the bright
lights and he looked like he was completely in his head. He stood in the back
of the cage as his opponent was called out. He didn’t seem fazed by the fact
that Wilson got twice the applause that he did. Of course he hadn’t seemed
fazed by his own. I think he was so focused that he didn’t even notice.

Wilson was about the same height as Paul,
but Paul seemed to me to have him beat in stature. His shoulders were broader
and his limbs seemed longer. I thought that would have to be an advantage when
it came to throwing a kick or a punch. The referee had them come to the center
of the ring and shake. They went back to their separate sides and within a few
seconds, the bell rang for the first round.

The referee signaled to them to fight and
as soon as he did, it was on. Wilson didn’t hesitate to throw out a jab that
caught Paul on the chin. Paul didn’t even rock backwards though; it was like
his feet were glued to the mat. He looked like he was going to counter with a
left hook but then took everyone by surprise by suddenly being in the air. His
feet were literally on the floor one second and in the air the next. It was an
amazing thing to watch. He caught Wilson on his left thigh with a powerful kick
and then finished his spin as he landed on his feet by throwing a left-cross
that landed on the side of Wilson’s head and knocked him off balance. The other
man caught himself before he hit the floor, but it was obvious he was feeling a
little bit dazed and confused by the hit.

Paul was back in his stance and ready to
throw another punch before the other man recovered. He came at Wilson with his
right fist but Wilson caught it with both his hands and used the momentum of
Paul’s own punch to spin him around. When Paul recovered from that, Wilson was
ready with a kick that landed in Paul’s left flank. He flinched, but just
barely before letting a hail of hooks and jabs lead the way right back up into
his opponent’s face. Wilson was good at defending himself, but Paul was
lightning fast. A couple of his right hooks found their mark and by the time
the bell rang, I’d have to say that Paul won that round.

The men sat on their little benches and
let their managers squirt water into their mouths and wash out their mouth
pieces and wipe the sweat down off them before the bell rang again and they
went back out. Once again there was no hesitation on either man’s part to start
fighting. Right off the bat Paul landed a front kick right into the soft center
of Wilson’s belly. Paul regrouped while Wilson was still doubled over and threw
a left cross as soon as he stood up. Wilson dodged that and came back with a
punch of his own that landed on the side of Paul’s face. I saw blood and sweat
fly across the ring and I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from
crying out. I suddenly wished it would hurry up and be over. It was like a
train wreck, I didn’t want to watch but my eyes were glued to it.