Page 15 of Forbidden Game

As I squirt the cold water into my mouth, my eyes drift across the gym to the men battling it out in the main boxing ring.

Parker’s platinum hair flops around as his body bounces back and forth. Pure mischief glints in those icy blues as he grins around his mouthguard.

He lands a quick three-punch combo, clipping his opponent’s jaw with the final jab and sending him staggering back. Sweat glistens across his pale skin, shining like ice. My eyes are drawn to his contracting muscles, and I watch as they flex with each extension of his arm.

Try as I might, I can’t deny that Parker is attractive. It’s just a fact.

My stomach lurches for a moment when Parker’s opponent finds an opening with his right cross, and I watch in slow motion as the glove connects with his abdomen. His blond brows furrow with pain, and his lip curls back ever so slightly before he shakes it off with a curved grin. He says something to the guy. I can’t hear from this far away, but his opponent’s eyes narrow and Parker bounces back a few steps, putting a little distance between them.

It only takes a few more moments until Parker slips past his defenses and clocks him with a left hook just below his ribs. He pulls his opponent close and continues to land punch after punch until a whistle is called.

The two split apart, breathing heavily. Parker claps the guy on his back with a bright smile, and the stocky man gives him a tense grin. He probably has a solid thirty pounds of muscle on Parker, but if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t underestimate Parker.

He’s a pretty boy with a lot of power.

Parker lifts the bottom of his T-shirt with one hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. My eyes linger for a second on the pale V of his hips, which is a second longer than necessary. He doesn’t have the same defined arms as Aleks or the thickly corded quads Jackson sports. Parker is more model fit, the causal kind that almost comes off effortlessly attractive.

It’s annoying.

He’s annoying.

I reinforce my mental barriers, the very ones that have helped me survive five years working with The System without losing my head.

I spot Jax walking out of their office with a frame in hand.

“Ready for your surprise?”

“Not really.” I press my lips together tightly.

They just chuckle as they walk past me. I let out a deep breath before following them to the front of the gym.

They stop right by the wall that separates the small lobby from the rest of the gym. My chest tightens as they lift the frame onto the empty nail on the wall.

My own face smiles back at me with the words “Rookie of the Season” painted in gold on the bottom of the frame.

“Really?” My voice comes out with a slight squeak, but I can’t even be embarrassed by it.

“Really.” Jax smiles, the skin around their eyes crinkling with pride. “You’ve improved a lot these last few months, Sydney. You even managed to get that right cross past me last week.”

“Jax is right. Your spinning back kick almost puts mine to shame.” My head whips around at the introduction of Parker’s voice to find him peeling off his gloves. “Soon you’ll be able to spar with me. What a privilege that’ll be for you.” He grins down at me before tossing his arm around my shoulders.

My body heats uncomfortably under its weight.

Sparring with Parker sounds like an awful idea.

“Thank you both.”

“You more than deserve it.” Jax gives me a pat on the shoulder before passing by us. “I’ll see you next week, champ.”

I take another look up at the photo on the wall. Pride warms my chest while the perfectionist within me drinks in the accomplishment.

“Not a bad surprise, right?” Parker gives me a squeeze, and I roll my eyes at him before slipping out of his grip.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I warn him, heading back into the gym so I can stretch.

Parker trails behind me like a lost puppy, chittering away.

“Come on, love. Don’t be so modest.”

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