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.
The next two rounds were a lot of back and forth. I did notice that Paul only threw one or two punches to each one of Wilson’s three or four. He was so fast on his feet and graceful that it was almost like he was dancing and he didn’t throw a punch unless he knew it was going to land. He didn’t waste his precious energy at all. Every so often a kick or a punch would land against his pretty face or body but he was usually moving when that happened so the connection didn’t have the full effect that Wilson intended. Wilson was getting winded by the fifth round and Paul amped up his hits. He’d throw a cross and then a hook and a jab and then he’d do that awesome little spin thing he did and his foot would land against anything Wilson left open. The champion was getting worn down, which was very obviously Paul’s intention. In the beginning of the sixth round, when it looked like Wilson was on his last leg, that was when Paul threw a left cross that stunned and then immediately landed a right uppercut to the underside of the jaw. Wilson’s body literally flew backwards three or four feet in the air until he landed unconscious on the mat. I watched Paul as he waited for the ref to check the other man and make sure he was still breathing. I wondered what went through a fighter’s mind while that was going on. It was always a possibility. As soon as he knew Wilson hadn’t done anything stupid like dying, a slow smile spread across his beautiful face. He’d just won the match and he had looked like a pro doing it.
The ref announced Paul as the winner and when they opened the cage to help Wilson out, he was starting to come around. Paul came out next and the crowd was going wild, cheering for him like crazy. He saw us in the front row and the men were all high-fiving him. Bodies were pushing and shoving up against other bodies and I found mine close enough to Paul’s at one point that if I’d wiggled just a fraction of an inch we’d be chest to chest.
I looked up at him and said, “Wow, you were amazing.” He was smiling and looking down at me with those sexy blue eyes and suddenly it was like we were in a vacuum. I couldn’t even hear the rest of the crowd, all I heard was the sound of his breathing and the pounding beat of my own heart in my ears. It was that feeling that you got right before you kissed a man for the first time and I swear he was thinking about it. I was so sure of it that I was inching up on my tiptoes. That was until there was suddenly a female hand on his shoulder and he turned away from me. He hugged the woman tightly, picking her up off her feet as he did. She was facing me, then, and she had the exact same color of eyes as Paul. I told myself it was his sister…it had to be.