Anger pulses through me, breaking through my concern for her. I want to hate her, why can’t I just stick to my guns and be an asshole!
“Just keep your spine straight,” I demand, my tone hard. Pissed at myself for giving a shit.
She nods, and hits the bag again. Her body stays straight, and her hit is more powerful and direct than before. She really is a great boxer.
“Good. Try that.” I can’t help the praise leaking through my tone.
Shit, I gotta get away from her.
Turning, Debs is staring at me like she wants to kill me.
“I thought her daddy was some famous boxer, how is that she can’t throw a correct punch?” she sneers. I glance at Tate, letting her answer that.
We used to practice hitting all the time as kids. I’m pretty sure we were doing it all wrong, but it seems like her skills are definitely lacking more than I remember.
Tate grabs the bag with both hands and leans her head on it.
“My dad played the role of being a father when I was finally old enough to practice the sport. He never taught me how to throw a correct punch because when we sparred we did it for fun. My mother was sick with cancer and let’s just say death has a way of changing people. Is that enough of a history lesson for you, or do you want to know more about my life?” Slowly turning her head, her sad eyes hit me and I instantly want to protect her all over again.
Exhaling a ragged breath I turn to get the hell away from her. Debs has a smart ass look on her face, her arms crossed as I pass her. I can tell she’s about to fire a smart ass comment back at Tate so I stop.
“It took me five minutes to teach her to throw a correct punch, how long have you been training her again?”
Marching past her, I search for Pinky. I’m so confused, so pissed at the way Tate gets to me that I may give Pinky the beating of his life. Thank god he has extra padding on today.
Tate
Thomas and Debs leave early, along with a lot of the other trainers and fighters. The storm has picked up, and nobody wanted to get caught in the middle of it.
It’s just Camden and I.
Alone.
The gym is filled with so much tension even a perfect combo couldn’t split through it.
Camden keeps looking at me, and I can’t help but sneak a few glances myself. My body is vibrating with sexual tension as I watch him. He’s something else when he’s in his element. I can’t believe he helped me today. It was a surprise to see him being… nice. I was humiliated I have been hitting wrong all this time, but I’m relieved he taught me. I don’t think my wrists could have gone another minute going the way I was.
To be honest, I kind of wish he was mean to me because when he’s nice I want him that much more. When I left four years ago it hurt, I felt like I was dying from the inside out of loneliness. I went from doing everything with Camden, to nothing. I must have adapted to that pain because being so close to Camden causes me to feel it as if it was the first day I left all over again. I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me?
The lights flicker with the sound of thunder and I tense.
“We should probably get going,” Camden suggests, as he glances at the windows that flash with lightening every now and then.
Nodding, I head toward the locker room to clean up.
Un-wrapping my hands, my knuckles stick to the tape with dried blood. After Camden instructed me how to hit correctly, the impact was less painful, but the damage was already done.
I wonder if he’s naked right now. Maybe in the shower. I bite my bottom lip at the thought of sneaking in the men’s locker room, maybe slipping into the shower with him. Butterflies fill my stomach at the risky thought. I would if the idea of rejection wasn’t so probable.
I’m a complete spaz when it comes to men, all except Camden. He’s the only one I have ever been comfortable with. My mother always said you’d fall in love with your best friend. Camden was not only my best friend, but he was my only friend. The world was lost when it was just us.
After getting dressed, I head out of the locker room just as Camden does, nearly running into him again.
“Shit, sorry.” I step back letting him go.
“No, you go ahead.” He waves me forward. This is so awkward.
Giving a tight lipped smile I walk ahead. He showered. His hair is wet, and I can smell his Old Spice shampoo. It takes everything I have not to look behind me to see his wet blond locks one more time.
Opening the front doors, the rain pours from the skies.
Counting to three, I sprint toward the parking lot. The rain slamming into my skin like hail.
Jumping in my car, I’m soaked and cold. I throw my bag in the side seat, and attempt to start the ignition.
It doesn’t start. My eyes widen, and I try again. Nothing. The radio doesn’t turn on, and neither do the lights.
The battery is dead.
I must have left the headlights on.