We heard a shrill whistle and we both looked into the gym to see Jake taking his fingers out of his mouth to wave us his way.
“That’s our cue,” Josie murmured and started moving.
I moved with her and we barely cleared the door before Jake announced, “Right, you know we’ve struggled to get you boys good gear. But this year, Mrs. Spear, and especially Miz Hathaway, who donated a bunch of really good crap to be sold for the league, raised enough that not only do we have all new gear this year, but you’ll be fighting your matches in the big ring in Blakeley.”
We had all the boys’ attention on us as we came to a stop at the back of the group.
At this news there were some open mouths and a sweep of excitement glided through the space before Jake concluded, “So give it up for the ladies.”
I felt my cheeks warm as the boys let out a collective whoop.
In all my years of raising money, not once had I personally faced a single soul who benefited from that.
Taking in those happy faces and their cheer, I found it felt great.
“Now, line up at the scale,” Jake ordered. “We gotta class you then we’ll get you your gear. After that, get your trainer assignments, introduce yourself to your trainer and get your training schedule.”
The boys started milling about and Josie and I stepped out of their way so they could do this.
And my night got better when Cillian walked by with one of his friends.
He was grinning at me.
I was grinning back.
And his friend was saying to him, “Bonus to being a fighter. You get hot chicks.”
“Yeah,” Cillian replied, looking away from me. “The short one’s my dad’s girlfriend.”
“Whoa, nice,” his friend said, eyeing me as they jockeyed for position in a line that led to one of those upright scales that Junior was attending.
It was at that from Cill’s friend that it just wasn’t my cheeks that were warm but other parts of me, primarily the region around my heart.
The last time I was in this gym, I felt old, unattractive and past my prime.
Now, I had the approval of twelve-year-olds.
It wasn’t much but it was something, and having Cillian’s approval of me for his father was even better.
Then the night got better when I felt weight around my shoulders, looked up and saw Mickey had claimed me with his arm around me.
“Hey,” he said on an easy grin.
“Hey back,” I replied.
“This feel good?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Good,” he muttered.
“Mr. Donovan.” I heard and looked up to see a bruiser who might be seventeen or eighteen standing close to us.
“Joe,” Mickey greeted.
The boy looked at me. “Hey, uh…you’re Auden’s mom, right?”
I straightened and regarded my son’s friend, Joe, who was not seventeen or eighteen but sixteen, which was shocking. He looked like he could be a Marine. And he was very cute.
“Yes, Joe. I’m Ms. Hathaway.” I offered my hand. “Nice to meet you. Auden’s talked about you.”
He took my hand briefly then let it go, looking this way and that shyly, as he said, “Yeah. Cool. He’s a good guy.”
“He is,” I agreed.
“Anyway, thanks for doin’ this.” He threw out a hand. “Totally cool.”
“Happy I could help,” I told him.
“Right. Great. Anyway, later,” he muttered and moved to the line.
“Later, Joe,” I called after him.
Mickey’s lips came to my ear. “You and Josie gotta get the fuck outta here or the situation is not gonna be good.”
I pulled my head back so I could catch his eyes and he lifted his so he could give them to me.
“Why?” I asked.
“’Cause your boy’s friend just met his friend’s MILF of a mom and Josie is pure MILF too. So you two better take off so the league doesn’t grow three times its size just so boys can get a look at the possible ass they’ll be tapping when they’re old enough to know what to do with their dicks. Ass they’ll tap because they were smart enough to train to be a fighter.”
I reared away, not getting far as Mickey’s arm around my shoulders tightened, but that didn’t stop me from exclaiming, “Mickey! Really!”
“Babe, I used to be sixteen,” he returned. “Mrs. Getty next door is now seventy-five but she once was forty-five and she saw a lot of sock time.”
I leaned into him. “I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.”
“Think of what poor ole Joe is thinkin’, he’s gotta go to school tomorrow and face his friend with the hot mom.”
“Stop talking,” I ordered sharply.
Mickey burst out laughing.
“Stop laughing,” I demanded hotly.
He didn’t.
What he did was bend to me and touch his mouth to mine still laughing.
I didn’t pull away because there were people around, but I did glare at him when he was done.
“This, right here,” he said. “Again, all you. What you gave the boys, one of ’em my son, the way I feel standin’ beside you with the way you look and what you did for this league. Another flash of happy.”
I instantly stopped glaring.
“Thank you, baby,” he whispered.
I pressed my lips together so they wouldn’t tremble.
“You gonna cry?” he asked.
“No,” I mumbled, but even one syllable, it was shaky.