Chapter Seventeen
Jo
Bettes led me around back of the clubhouse building. Some exercise mats had been spread around the driveway—that had to be the boxing ring. She and I settled onto the concrete loading dock, with our feet dangling over the drop.
“Best seat in the house,” Bettes told me as we waited for the guys to get their gloves on and the rest of the crowd to migrate over. “You know, Tate and I live a few blocks away from you guys.”
“Really?” I asked, shocked. “I didn’t know that. Clint never said anything.”
“It takes a while before you can be introduced into the club,” she said.
“You make it sound so formal.” I laughed.
“It’s not formal.” Bettes waved her hand. “But it’s kind of a big thing when one of the guys invites a girl to a party. I’m sure you’ve noticed there are always available women hanging around.”
“I noticed.” I think I blushed because my cheeks got real hot. There was no way I could miss Sapphire stripping earlier. “It’s not like that between us. I’m just not sure what’s going on,” I admitted.
“So, that’s the way of things?” She leaned over and patted my leg. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Are all the men here in the club?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want to analyze my relationship with Clint too closely.
“No.” Bettes shook her head. “Some guys are up visiting from the California chapters, some guys are just friends of the club. Look, they’re starting.”
First up was an interesting match. Roach versus a man as wide as two people. Based on his tattoos, I thought he might be from the islands. The guy had a couple hundred pounds on Roach, but Roach could move. I found myself cheering each time he dodged a punch. In the end, though, his opponent’s size and ability to take a hit caused Roach to lose. He waved at us and smiled with his tooth guard hanging out of this mouth.
There were a few more matches, but finally there was the one we were waiting for: Clint and Rip. By the shouts of the crowd, everyone else was waiting for this as well.
“He’s up.” Bettes grinned.
Clint, dressed in his long basketball shorts and no shirt, walked out on the mats. The sun had set and his tattoos made him look almost fearsome under the floodlights. Hard to believe he was the same guy who danced the foxtrot with me at the senior center.
Then Sapphire walked out on the mat. I groaned. She’d kicked off her big heels and seemed even more petite than before. She walked between the two fighters and grabbed their hands, raising them in the air like a ring girl at a professional boxing match.
Bettes leaned over and whispered, “Don’t mind her. She’s just a bunch of trouble and all the guys know it.”
Sapphire tugged on Rip’s arm until he bent down so she could give him a kiss. Then she turned to Clint. She ran her fingers up his bicep and down his chest until the crowd started throwing catcalls. I couldn’t see his expression from this vantage point. Was he enjoying it? Probably. She was attractive and obviously interested in him. Besides, it wasn’t like I had any claim over him. I rolled my eyes as he bent down and she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Someone hit an air horn and it was time for the match to begin.
The guys were pretty evenly matched. Rip was taller, but Clint had him on sheer muscle mass; I thought of him working out in the garage and blushed.
Clint started out with a punch of his right hand. A right hook, maybe? Rip immediately dodged and got Clint good in the stomach. My breath caught in my throat.
“He’ll be fine. They’re just roughhousing. Rip knows Clint’s limits.” Bettes put her arm around me. “You’d never know it right now, but they’re best friends.”
“Really?” I asked, wincing as Rip landed a solid punch to Clint’s chin. He would have a bruise for sure.
Clint danced around on the mat and finally got Rip on the shoulder. Rip reared his arm back, and disaster happened, right in the jaw. Clint’s entire body turned with the momentum of the punch, then he went down.
Fuck.
I jumped off the loading dock. I bent my knees to absorb the impact, but my feet still tingled as I hit concrete. After running to the mat, I knelt down beside Clint and began to examine him.
“I’m a nurse,” I announced to everyone around us. “Get me some bandages.”
His lip was bloody, but not gushing. His nose wasn’t broken, so his airway was probably clear. I put my fingers on his neck and felt for a pulse. Strong, beating a little fast, but not fluttering. Leaning over him, I reached for his brow. Maybe I could see if his pupils were dilated.
Suddenly, my unconscious patient came alive. He slipped an arm around my waist and dragged me down on top of him. Using his boxing glove, he mashed my face against his—in a kiss.
I opened my eyes and stared, and he quirked an eyebrow. As far as kisses go, it wasn’t much of one. He was wearing the green plastic insert to protect his teeth and that’s really all I could feel. The jerk had pretended to be knocked out so he could kiss me.
I pulled back and started to laugh. He grinned through his tooth guard. A big shadow crossed over us, and I realized that Rip was offering to help me up. I held his hand and stood, then Rip hauled Clint to his feet.
Taking a cue from Sapphire earlier, I held both of the guys’ arms in the air. I dropped Clint’s hand and held up Rip’s. He had clearly won the fight.
Clint slipped an arm around me. “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered in my ear.
He was grinning from ear to ear, but I had to admit, I was grinning too.
“Yeah.” I laughed. “Let’s go upstairs.”
We were going to have sex and I was nervous as hell. I followed Clint up some dark stairs to a long hallway with a row of doors. It sort of looked like a cheesy motel. I laughed to myself—how appropriate.
He opened one door and flipped on a light. It was just a bedroom with an unmade queen-sized bed, some 1970s-era furniture, and dirty laundry. There was also a poster of a woman in a bikini straddling a motorcycle. Nice.
“Do you wanna hang out for a second?” He grinned from his place in the doorway. “I’m gonna take the fastest shower ever.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” I smiled as he closed the door. But as soon as he was gone, I collapsed on the bed. This reality was a lot different than what I had envisioned. I knew this was where we would end up if I stayed at the party. Now, sitting there on his bed, I got to be alone with my thoughts. Did I really want to do this?
There was a half-empty bottle of whiskey on his bedside table. With no glass, I just took a swig from the bottle. It burned going down, but it felt good. I could do this. Closing my eyes, I took another long pull on the bottle. When I opened my eyes, Clint was standing in the doorway. I giggled. He really did take a fast shower, no more than five minutes.
“Hey,” he said, with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You okay?”
“Fine. Great.” I smiled. What the hell was I afraid of? Clint was already nearly naked and the sight of his chest was enough to make me want to pass out—clearly I was attracted to him.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, closing the door behind him. He held out his hand for the bottle of whiskey. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You shouldn’t have to get liquored up to be with me.”
“I’m not nervous,” I lied. The whiskey was starting to warm up my blood. It was just me and Clint. No one was going to interrupt us. All those nights going to bed in the room next to his had given me plenty of time to think. I took one more swig on the bottle and handed it over to him.
After taking off my shoes, I knelt on the bed and crooked my finger at him.
“Come here,” I said, slowly unzipping my hoodie. “I know exactly what I want.”