Don’t let Randy fuck with your mind anymore.
Lance came at her in a burst of energy, his arms slapping down to meet the punches she frantically threw. She had no game plan, just swung. A light pop bopped her on the side of the head and paralyzed her. He instantly backed off. The second there was space between them, her ability to breathe returned, and she ripped off the gloves, throwing them down. “Damn it.”
Without a word, she climbed between the second and third rope, hopped to the floor, and slumped on a nearby bench, hanging her head. Why couldn’t she get past this mind block?
“Hey,” Lance said, in a soothing tone that only annoyed her. But as he sat down, his thigh pressed against hers, she found the gesture oddly comforting. She wanted to lean into him, take his support, but she forced herself to stay where she was.
“I just need a few minutes alone.”
Silence followed her comment, but he didn’t move. He laced his fingers together and let them hang between his knees. “I’ve been fighting in some form or other since I was thirteen years old. The last thing I’m afraid of is being hit.”
She leveled an are-you-kidding-me look at him. “That’s supposed to help me how?”
“Give me a minute.” He waved his hand. “A few months ago, I had a huge fight slotted. Any spare moment I had, I was training my fucking ass off.” He inhaled deep. “The pressure of it got the best of me, and I just froze. Biggest night of my fighting career, over by knockout in less than a minute.” He turned a sympathetic smile on her. “Sometimes our mind just gets the best of us. I don’t know what’s cluttering yours, but you’re not alone. It happens to everyone.”
His confession, that he would open up to her like that, meant more to her than he would ever know. It made her feel less alone…and she hadn’t felt like that in a long time.
“Thank you,” she whispered and leaned toward him. A simple kiss on his cheek to show her appreciation was her intent. But the moment her lips touched the stubbled skin, a floodgate of need crashed open. Instantly, her nipples puckered and the lower part of her body tingled in a very thrilling way. She wanted nothing more than for him to turn his head so she could feel the softness of his lips next. Stunned, she pulled back.
Their gazes locked, and the air seemed to still between them. His gray eyes held her captive. She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t break this magnetic hold Lance had had on her since that moment in the alley. And damn it—she didn’t want to. It’d been a long time—too long—since she’d been attracted to a man like him. Maybe she never had been. Lance was different.
The overwhelming thoughts caused her to pull back and look away.
Clearing his throat, Lance shot to his feet, scratching the back of his head.
“What do you say we step away from the focus pads for the rest of the day? How about getting it on with the bag for a while?”
Getting it on. Yeah, she would definitely like to do that, but not with a bag—with this amazing man in front of her. She shook herself. It seemed fighting the demons of the past wasn’t the only battle she had now. The lure of the present was becoming extremely tempting, when her focus should squarely be on the future and getting back home.
…
Lance tilted his face up into the spray of water. A cold shower helped ease the soreness from his muscles after a training session. But this shower had nothing to with training and everything to do with Kelsey.
The woman was too fucking enticing. The icy water running down his body hadn’t cooled the lingering heat her lips had left behind on his cheek. The shower hadn’t cooled his thoughts, either. He still wanted to know what it would be like to have her body pressed into his, lips against his, arms wrapped around him. If she hadn’t pulled back, he might have gone for it. But she had.
He shut off the water, snatched a towel off the hook, and dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the locker room to find Mac wrestling with the paper dispenser over the sinks.
“Hey,” Lance muttered.
“This thing’s a piece of shit.” He slammed his fist against the front, trying to get it to snap closed, but it fell open again. “What the fuck!”
Lance walked over and gently closed it, jiggled it a little, heard the clasp take, then let it go. It stayed closed.
“Thanks,” Mac said sheepishly. “I don’t usually deal with this crap, but Marcus called in sick. The fucking paper was out, and somebody had to fill it.”
“I should’ve watched you wrestle with it a little longer. You losing your temper doesn’t happen as often anymore.”
“What can I say? Being with Gayle agrees with me.”