On the Ropes (Down for the Count) (10 page)

“That’s some car you got out there,” I change the subject.

“You like it?”

“You don’t really see cars like that around here. It’s a ‘Vette, right?”

“Yes, a 1961. It was my father’s and he gave it to me as my high school graduation present.”

“Wow, must be nice,” I mutter under my breath.

“Please Blaine, have a seat,” Frankie instructs, as he sits behind his desk. “Why don’t you explain to Gabriel what you were telling me on the phone?”

“Oh sure, of course,” Blaine says, as he inches toward the edge of his seat. “I was telling Frankie this morning that I’m opening a new gym in Spencer, and I’d love for you to be ‘the face’ of it.”

“‘The face’ of it?” I ask, confused.

“Yeah… I want you to be the spokesman for it.”

“But I don’t train there… I train here.”

“Well…” Blaine draws out his word.

“Kid, you’d stop training here and start training there,” Frankie butts in.

“What?” I turn quickly towards Frankie. This is the only place I’ve ever trained and Frankie is the only person I’ve ever trained with.

“Relax, kid. I’ll still be training you. We’ll just be training there instead of here.”

“We have everything you need for training, Saint. Top of the line equipment, a brand new ring, physical and massage therapists on site if you need them, we even have a sauna for you to relax in after training,” Blaine is now doing his best sales pitch.

I look at Frankie with doubt, “And you’re okay with this?”

“What difference does it make if you train here or there?” Frankie shrugs.

“Because this is the place you built,” I can feel myself getting defensive.

“It’s just a building, Gabriel.”

I can’t believe Frankie’s just gonna let me go train somewhere else; like it’s nothing. This place is his pride and joy. Now he’s acting like he could close the doors tomorrow and it wouldn’t mean a thing to him.

I look over at Salem and see that she’s busy texting, completely ignoring the conversation we’re having around her. “What do you think about all this, Salem?” I ask, pulling her into our conversation.

She seems startled by my question. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, what exactly
were
you discussing?”

“Blaine just asked me to be ‘the face’ of his gym and train there.”

“Oh, well, you’re asking the wrong person about that. I know nothing about wrestling.”

I laugh. “Well that’s good to know, because I know nothing about wrestling either.”

She gives me a confused look.

“I don’t wrestle, I box.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there’s a difference,” she says, clueless.

“It’s okay, honey,” Blaine chuckles as he rubs her hand. “If it’s not Louis Vuitton or Prado, she couldn’t care less. She’s a pro at shopping and spending her Daddy’s money.”

Her face turns red with embarrassment. She tries to laugh off what Blaine just said about her, but you can see that what he said bothers her.

“So what do you say?” Blaine asks anxiously.

“I dunno,” I look over at Frankie, “I still really don’t understand what you would get out of me training there.”

“Are you kidding? You’re a local celebrity around here. Everyone knows who you are, and if people know you’re training at my gym, we’ll get tons of new clients. It’s a win-win really.”

“And all I have to do is train there?” I question him.

“Pretty much. We’d probably have you do some appearances, be on our print ads, and eventually I’d love to do a television commercial, if you’re game.”

I again look over at Frankie for some reassurance or guidance but, like usual, I get nothing. He just stares back at me. “Do you think I can have some time to think this over?” I direct to Blaine.

“Sure, you can take all the time you’d like, but I’d love to get you to our gym before the big fight,” Blaine slowly stands up.

Frankie rises to his feet then gives me the evil eye for me to “get-up-off-my-ass.”

“Frankie, thanks for setting up this meeting. I really appreciate it,” Blaine extends his hand out to Frankie.

“Any time, Blaine, the pleasure was all ours,” his eyes jolt towards me as he gives me a look.

“Salem? Are you coming?” Blaine shakes his head. “Her and that damn phone.”

She was looking down at her phone again. “Oh… we’re done?” she asks with a smile, happily looking up at us.

Frankie leads them out into the gym, and I follow behind Salem, checking out her backside.
She must spend a lot of time at the gym herself.

“We’ll be in touch in the next few days,” Frankie says to Salem and Blaine as they walk out the front door.

He quickly turns to me with a smile on his face, “So? Whatta ya think? Print ads, television commercials… this is it, Gabriel. This is the shot we’ve been waiting for!” Frankie can barely contain his excitement at this point.

I can’t help but smile. I haven’t seen him this excited in a long time; quite possibly ever. He’s practically jumping up and down.

“Give me the night to think it over, okay?”

“Gabriel, you’re doing this,” his smile disappears from his face. “If you don’t listen to anything else I say in this lifetime, please listen to me on this.”

“Alright, Frankie, I’ll think long and hard about it.”

“Good. Now go home and get some sleep.”

For most of my walk home, the conversation with Blaine plays over and over in my head. I still don’t fully understand how Frankie can give up training at his gym so easily. I mean, if Blaine can use me as the face of his gym, why can’t I be the face of Frankie’s gym? He’s the whole reason I am where I am.

It isn’t long before I’m home. I try the door and it’s locked, so I dig into my pocket for the key. It’s unusual for the door to be locked. Adrian and I have nothing of value, so we rarely lock the door.

As I unlock the door and step through, I hear a gasp.

“Oh my God!” I hear a female voice say as she runs from the living room into the bathroom.

There’s Adrian, lying completely naked on our couch.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“I didn’t think you’d be home until later,” Adrian laughs.

“Do you fuck girls on our couch often?”

“Well, I’m not gonna fuck them in my bed,” he says quietly, looking over his shoulder towards the bathroom door.

“Why the hell not?”

“’Cause, I don’t know where they’ve been.”

“So you’re gonna fuck them on our couch… where we sit?”

Adrian smiles at me.

“Are you just gonna sit there naked? Can you at least cover yourself up? I really don’t need to see your fuckin’ hard-on.”

“Why the fuck you starin’ at it?” he says as he grabs himself.

“Dude! Oh my God!” I pick up a pillow from the chair and throw it onto his lap. “How many girls have you fucked on our couch?” I try to keep my voice down.

“I dunno,” he shrugs.

“Well fuck, now we need to get a new couch,” I say, while trying to hide my smile. “You better go check on her,” I motion to the bathroom.

“She’ll come out eventually. Unless she plans on sleeping in there,” Adrian jokes.

“You’re an asshole.”

“What? Since you’re home, I ain’t gettin’ laid now anyways.”

“And people call me a man-whore,” I shake my head, as I walk through the living room and into my room; shutting the door behind me.

I hear Adrian’s muffled voice through my door. It sounds like he’s begging the girl to come out. I then hear the door open abruptly and her begin to yell at him, “I thought you lived here alone!”

“I never said that,” Adrian says defensively.

“What is this, a game you two play?” she snaps.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You bring a girl home and then the roommate suddenly comes home?”

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, but I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Gladly,” she snorts loudly.

I hear her stomping her feet throughout the apartment. It gets quiet for a few moments, then I hear the door slam.

I wait a minute before going back out into the living room. “She gone?” I ask loudly.

“Yeah, she’s gone, and I got the worst case of blue balls right now,” Adrian groans and takes a swig of his beer.

“Sorry, man. I had no idea you’d have a girl here.”

“Eh, don’t worry about. You win some, you lose some. How’d training go today? You ready for your fight?”

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be. Frankie brought in some new fighters today and they kept me on my toes.”

“When’s the fight again?”

“Next weekend.”

“Well, you know I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“No worries.”

“Oh, check this out,” excitement is shining through in my voice, “there’s this guy who wants me to be ‘the face’ of his gym.”

“No shit, really?”

“Yeah, his name is Blaine Davis and he’s opening this new boxing gym in Spencer.”

“And what does Frankie have to say about this?”

“He’s all for it… I just don’t get it.”

“Well, he must have his reasons,” Adrian replies.

“He thinks it’s a good opportunity for me.”

“Has Frankie ever led you astray?”

“No.”

“Then do it. Frankie’s got your back. He always has and he always will.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I smile at him. “Thanks, man.”

“Any time, bro.”

“I’ll see you in the morning. I gotta train again tomorrow. You know how Frankie is about me getting a good night’s sleep.”

After washing up in the bathroom, I drop onto my bed. It’s been a long day between training and the meeting with Blaine. I lay awake staring at my ceiling; my mind racing with the day’s events. Tossing and turning, I desperately try to fall asleep.

Salem creeps into my mind. I remember her pale blue eyes as they looked me up and down, the way she strutted through the gym, and her tight ass… I bet you could bounce a dime off of it. She has a huge chip on her shoulder, but I’d still love to take her up against a wall and fuck her senseless. I can definitely show her what it’s like to be fucked by a real man, and not that pretty boy she calls a boyfriend. He’s probably afraid he’ll mess up his hair during sex.

My thoughts drift to creating a fantasy of Salem and me.
We’re in the locker room at Frankie’s gym and I’m all hot and sweaty from training. I have her pinned up against the wall and she’s completely defenseless against me, but she’s into it. Her skirt is up around her waist and the little piece of fabric she calls underwear is interfering with what I want. I grind my body up against hers and my dick is swelling as I rub up on her thigh. My hands roam freely over her body, finally landing on her tight ass. Our tongues are dueling and I’m drunk on her taste. The scent of the perfume or body spray she’s wearing is tormenting me until I’m at my breaking point. “God, Salem, you smell so fucking good; it makes me wanna fuck you until you can’t remember your own name,” I growl. Her hands tighten in my hair and a stronger wave of her scent drifts into my nose as I inhale.
My chest is heaving at my thoughts and my breathing is labored. Sliding my hand into my boxers, I adjust myself to get more comfortable and my thoughts are almost immediately back with Salem.
Her perfectly manicured nails are clawing at my back now as I dig my fingers into her legs. I kiss her neck roughly as she pants in my ear, “Make me come, Saint.” Then she bites my earlobe and I lose control. I’m so anxious to have her that I rip off the expensive panties she’s wearing and slam my cock into her like her pussy is my saving grace. I smile when she screams in pleasure as she comes apart in my arms.

Unconsciously, my hand slides back down into my boxers until it meets my aching erection. This time I begin stroking myself; I just can’t help it. Salem… there’s just something about her… I’m not sure if it’s her beauty or the fact that I’ll have to work to get her. But, whatever it is, she will be mine.

“In boxing, there are no gas tanks. You run out of gas, that’s it.”

—Evander Holyfield

I’m awake even before my alarm goes off. I feel no more rested than I did yesterday because I tossed and turned for the majority of the night. The fight, Frankie, Blaine, and of course, Salem all weigh heavily on my mind. I quickly take a shower and get ready for the gym. I want to beat Frankie there, to prove to him that this fight means just as much to me as it means to him. I grab my helmet from the top of my dresser and head out.

Being so early, I make it to the gym in less than five minutes since I was the only person on the roads at this hour. The sun is just beginning to rise as I park my bike. I unlock the door and walk to the back of the gym to turn the lights on. It’s so quiet in here; it isn’t often that there isn’t either the sound of kids laughing or fighters training. I look around at the beat up old gym, with its boxing ring that doesn’t have stairs and the ropes on it that are sagging from all the wear and tear. I see the punching bags against the back wall, covered with tape because of all of the gaping holes in them from being punched so many times, and the worn out mats under my feet that are so cracked, they’re held together only by duct tape and a prayer.