Fight Like A Girl (Part One) (4 page)

“Fuck you,” I mumbled and walked past him,
straight toward Freddie’s office. “What the hell is this?” I all
but shouted as soon as I crossed the threshold.

He looked up at me, surprised. “What do you
mean? King will be a great trainer. And he said you two already
knew each other, so win-win.”

I closed my eyes to ward off the rage that
seemed to want to fill me. I took several breaths and then looked
at Freddie again, certain I wouldn’t rip his fucking head off.
“There’s some kind of mistake. He and I do not know each other, and
there’s no way in hell I’m training with him.” There, I said it. I
didn’t even raise my voice. I lifted my chin, proud of my feat.

“We do know each other,” a voice said from
behind me.

I turned to glare at him. “This is a private
conversation.” I moved to close the door in his face.

“Actually,” he said, a firm hand on the door,
“since I’m you’re trainer, I think I should be privy to all
conversations between you and the gym owner.”

I saw red. “You
aren’t
my trainer,” I
grit out.

“Alright, fine. Why don’t you ask Freddie who
else is available?”

Finally
. “I was just about to do
that.” I turned back to Freddie. “Who else?”

Freddie looked pointedly at the chipping
paint on his desk, his hands fiddling with a pen.

“You aren’t serious. It’s Kingston or no
one?” My shoulders slumped at his nod.

I was stuck. Either I trained with a guy who
rocked my world the night before, or I trained alone. What a
fucking nightmare.

I stomped my foot, painfully aware of my
childish behavior and stormed out of the office, making sure to
slam my shoulder into him. He let out an irritated laugh, but
stepped back, out of my way. He needed to know just how much fun I
was going to be to train.

I walked to the ring, where two of the gyms
best guys were practicing. I stood there, arms crossed, watching
them as they fought. Their moves were calculated, each of them
intense. I’d practiced with both of them in that ring, and though I
knew they went easy on me, they always gave me great pointers on
how to better myself.

I hated criticism, especially from the men in
my life, but I knew their words weren’t critical. They wanted to
help make me better. We’d all become a bit of a family and we all
wanted one another to succeed. Considering they were the only
family I had, I took their words seriously and bettered myself. I
worked ten times harder than any fighter I knew. It wasn’t good
enough for me to be an average fighter; I had to be the best. Of
course, the official fights would prove my skill, but in the
meantime, I needed more training.

“I’ll take winner,” I shouted, more than
ready to prove myself. Even I knew my goal was only to prove myself
to Kingston.

“Actually, you won’t be fighting anyone until
after your first fight,” Kingston announced to everyone, his voice
echoing in the big space.

“Will you stop saying that?”

His brows drew together. “Saying what?”

“
Actually
. You’ve said it too many
times in the short time I’ve known you.”

He laughed. “Okay, fine, I’ll cut back. But
you still aren’t fighting.”

“Whatever.”

He walked over to me, his face fierce. “I
mean it, Max. You won’t risk injuring yourself before a big fight.
And this one will be your first, which means you need to be in tip
top shape, not bruised from one of these guys knocking you
down.”

I wanted to argue. Sure, my next fight was my
first
regulation
fight, but I’d been in enough street fights
to know I could hold my own. But I decided to let that be a secret,
a little something for Kingston to find out later.

“Fine.” I gave him a paltry smile and walked
away, proud that I didn’t even yell at him. I was more than a
little smug because I left him standing there, all alone.

“Max,” he called, drawing my attention back
toward the ring. I stopped and looked at him. “Get your running
shoes on. We start training today.”

I raised a brow but didn’t say a word. I
didn’t run often. I knew it was good to be light on my feet, but
running was so boring. There was no greater workout than slamming
my fist into the bag several hundred times. Running just wasn’t my
thing. But I figured a quick run to warm up could be beneficial. I
knew I had to maintain at least a neutral attitude toward Kingston,
if only until after I won my first fight.

Part of the reason no one wanted to train me,
in particular was the fact that I hadn’t proven myself just yet.
Once I won my upcoming fight, I figured I’d have offers pouring in,
all but begging me to let them train me. And once I had my choice
of trainer, Kingston could pack sand. I was excited to be able to
fire him.

In the locker room, I slipped on my shoes and
sat down to tighten the laces. I heard him approach before I saw
him, though I didn’t even bother to lift my head when he stopped in
front of me. I kept my attention on my shoes as long as I could,
but eventually, I had to look up.

His heavily muscled arms were crossed over
his chest, pulling his black t-shirt tight. I had no idea how I
hadn’t guessed he was a fighter, or a trainer, because his body was
severely built for fighting.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his gray eyes
piercing mine. He was so damn intense, I had to look away.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” I said, standing up.
Kingston didn’t move away, leaving us far too close for comfort.
His eyes flicked to my lips. “Don’t even think about it,” I
warned.

There was humor in his eyes when he met my
gaze again. “Don’t what? I was just thinking your lips look
bruised.”

Belatedly, I realized they probably were. His
kisses last night were rough, not that I minded, but just being
reminded of how good last night was made my stomach clench with
desire. The bastard did it on purpose.

“Yeah, I think I made out with a vacuum,” I
commented.

He sucked in a breath, fully understanding my
insult. “Let’s go.” He turned and walked out of the locker
room.

I followed him, chuckling softly. At least I
could get under his skin as much as he got under mine.

On the street, he suggested I stretch, and I
took his advice. He also took his own advice, and the two of us
were silent as we warmed up. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off
his magnificent body. His bulky calves led up to tree-trunk-worthy
thighs and then up to his fairly narrow hips. He was the epitome of
a fighter, but his arms were what drew most of my attention.

The sheer size of his arms were enough to
keep me interested, but the actual muscle definition was pleasing,
as well. The fact that he’d used those arms while we fucked the
previous night sort of turned me on, too. As if sensing my
thoughts, Kingston stopped stretching to look at me, his eyes
roaming over my body for a full minute before he looked me in the
eye.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice much deeper than
it had been a few minutes ago, reminding of just how deep it got
last night while I was riding his cock. He must have been thinking
about it, too.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He
turned away and started off at a slow jog. I forced myself to keep
in step with him, even though all I wanted to do was sprint as far
away as I possibly could. I needed to get the hell away from him,
if only to control my obvious desire for him. Distance wouldn’t be
a bad thing, but I knew better. Taking off would only piss him off,
and I’d end up spending even more time with him to make up for
running away.

For the time being, I was absolutely stuck. I
followed a few steps behind him, not wanting to show him up. I
figured I could run circles around him. He didn’t increase his
speed, either. Our jog was just that: slow, steady, and extremely
boring. I found myself trying to think of anything other than how
tight his ass was as we went. Of course, I couldn’t, since I was
forced to stare at it through the run.

Eventually, I got tired of his slow pace. I
needed to run. Like actually
run
. I moved my feet faster,
going around him. He laughed as I passed him, but he let me lead,
the two of us running through the city. It almost became a game for
us; I led for a while and then he would speed up to lead us for a
few blocks.

I was getting tired, my body finally running
out of adrenaline, so I slowed down a bit. Kingston didn’t realize
I slowed and he kept up the pace, putting more distance between us.
I was about to call out for him to slow down when someone hit me
from behind.

I went down hard into the pavement, nearly
face planting into the ground. My hands barely caught me, but my
palms slid across the sidewalk, all but tearing them up. I rolled
over to look at my attacker, certain whoever it was would have run
away. Standing over me was a man dressed all in black, a hoodie
covering his hair and a black bandana tied around his face. The
only part of him I could see were his eyes. They were ridiculously
blue, brighter than any blue eyes I’d ever seen before, and it
occurred to me he was wearing colored contacts.

“You’re dead, just like your dad.” The voice
was deep, but not in an attractive way like Kingston’s. The guy was
purposely masking his voice by speaking like a life-long smoker,
the sound raspy. “Stay out of the ring.”

From my spot on the sidewalk, laying on my
back, I couldn’t exactly beat the guy to a pulp, which is what I
wanted to do, but I figured Kingston would approach at any second,
and he could act out what I wanted. More seconds passed without any
sign of my trainer, and finally, the guy in black laugher.

“No one’s coming to save you. Not your daddy,
not Kingston – you’ve got no one, Max. Do yourself a favor and stay
away from the ring.”

And then he was gone, ducking into an alley.
I stared after him, my heart hammering inside my chest.
What the
fuck is going on?

Kingston came back for me eventually, but he
was less than concerned when he found me on my back in the middle
of the sidewalk.

“Did you trip?” he asked, his voice more than
amused. He hadn’t seen what happened.

I wanted to tell him about the guy, about
what he said, but the truth was, I had no idea if I could trust
him, so I kept it to myself. “Yeah, I guess I hit a lip in the
sidewalk,” I lied. He helped me up and turned my hands over to
examine them.

“You really torn them up,” he said, our
bodies close. I kept my gaze on my hands, but something in his
voice caused me to look up. He was too close.

His lips were on mine before I could protest.
Not that I wanted to. I wound my injured hands around his neck,
careful not to get blood on his shirt. He lifted me up with his
hands on my ass so his hard dick was cradled between my thighs. His
tongue thrust into my mouth, and I let him. I was still shook up
from my encounter, and I needed his touch.

After several minutes making out, we finally
pulled away from each other. “Fuck.”

I smiled against his chest. “My thoughts
exactly.”

“What the hell is wrong with us? We’re
working together, now. We shouldn’t be engaging like this.” He
sounded less than remorseful.

“Agreed.” I didn’t pull away from him.

He let out a heavy sigh and then took a step
back, his hands on my shoulders. “We should head back to the gym
and get your hands checked out.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

We walked back to the gym, Kingston deciding
we shouldn’t run with me injured. It was a slow trip, and I
couldn’t help but be curious about him.

“Were you a fighter?” I asked as we
walked.

He glanced at me, as if he was trying to
decide if I was worth an honest answer. He relented a few seconds
later. “Yeah, I fought for six years.”

“Were you any good?”

He laughed. “You could say that. I only ever
lost one fight in my career.”

I was impressed. “Why’d you quit?”

“You ask too many questions, Max.”

“Oh, come on. If we’re going to be working
together, it’s probably a good idea for me to know a little bit
about your history.”

He thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, I
guess you’re right. I quit because I was in an accident and all the
bones in my left leg were crushed.”

“What? Was it a car accident? How long ago
did it happen? Should you even be running?” I asked, flooding him
with questions.

“Easy, killer,” he said with a laugh. “It
wasn’t a car accident. I was too good, too cocky for my own good
and another fighter had my leg crushed. It was about two years ago.
The doctors were convinced I’d never walk again, let alone be able
to run or train. But I proved them wrong.”

“Wow. That’s incredible,” I said, admiring
him. “Did they catch the guy who did it?”

He shot me a look. “No. This is Boston. They
weren’t interested in a fight between fighters, even if I had proof
of who it was.”

“Wait. You
knew
who did it and they
still didn’t do anything?” I was appalled.

“I had a strong suspicion… But they weren’t
interested in my speculation. And they didn’t want to work on the
case, so it was shoved to the back burner and forgotten about.”

I stared at the sidewalk as we walked. I
didn’t want to stir things up by bringing up my own attack just a
few minutes ago, so I kept quiet. I also knew better than to rely
on a man for anything.

Sure, men were great sexual partners, but to
lean on someone other than myself scared me. I leaned on my father
for a long time, and he let me down.
Hard
. So I was
skeptical about trusting Kingston. Hell, Dad was there for me for
years, but then when it mattered, he ran away. And Kingston… I
barely knew him. I wasn’t about to trust him, let alone share any
part of myself with him.