Page 28 of I Am Lioness

Bernie snapped me out of yet another daze when he suggested we hop into the ring for a few rounds before wrapping up the day. I found it rather strange that he wanted to cut our session short, but quickly wrote it off as the constant travel finally taking a toll on him.

The heat alone was debilitating, tack on the added weight of our lifestyle and you had quite the feasible answer. Still, he seemed rather off since Vegas and I couldn't help but wonder what had him so far away.

“Damn it, Hazel! Focus!” He barked in frustration, somewhere during our fourth round. “What the hell is going on with you? Your workout”—he motioned to the sea of machines behind me—“if you could even call it that, was utter crap and now you’re in here swinging like a sloppy rookie.”

I rolled my eyes and jabbed out hard with my right, making contact with one of the padded mitts attached to his hands. “You do realize you dragged me out here at the ass crack of dawn, right?” I snapped, throwing out two more punches and then a swift kick of my leg. “I think I'm allowed a spec of moodiness, Pops.”

He shook his head. “Try again. I'm not buying that garbage.”

“There's nothingtobuy. I'm tired. Cut me some slack, old man.” The last bit came out with a grunt as I brought my knee up with force.

Bernie deflected and bounced me off with ease, shoving me back about a foot.

“Alright, I'll cut you some slack.” He said, ripping one of the mitts off his hand with his teeth and throwing it to worn mat, then promptly ripping off it’s partner. “Care to explain what's going on with Mr. Carr?”

Oh shit.

My arms fell to my sides and from the look he was giving me, I knew better than to lie.

“Pops, I was…”

He pointed a finger in warning, stopping me mid-sentence. “Don't you dare say you were planning to tell me because you’ve had many an opportunity to do so and you haven't. Not only that but you lied about it on Sunday, to my face. So now I want the truth.”

The bitterness in his tone took me by surprise, though given the circumstances it probably shouldn't have.

I sighed, stepping closer to where he stood. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn't mention anything because truthfully I didn’t know how. This thing with him and I… It's complicated.”

Bernie crossed his arms. “Complicated or not, did you think I wouldn’t support you?”

“No, I just… I don't know, Pops. Knox totally blindsided me. I wasn't expecting anything to come of it.”

“Didsomething come of it?” He questioned, raising a brow.

“I mean, I guess so.” I shrugged. “It's nothing serious. We’re getting to know each other with the intention of moving forward at some point once the season is over.”

“I see…” His voice was quiet, too quiet.

I could see the hurt in his eyes, hurt that I’d put there because I hid something from him. Something that was clearly more important than I'd let myself believe.

He stepped around me and bent down to collect the mitts.

“Don't be mad, Bern, please.” I pleaded, following him to the bench. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't think there was anythingto tellprior to him showing up in Vegas.”

Bernie shook his head. “I’m not mad, Hazel. I’m just disappointed that I had to find out what was going on behind my back when I overheard you and Jason bickering.”

I froze.

Could it get any worse?

“You heard that?” I was mortified.

“How could I not”—he turned to face me—“The door slammed so hard it shook the walls. I was afraid something had happened, so creeped out into the hallway and could hear the two of you going at it before I even got to your door.”

Yep, that's worse.

“I’m sorry…” I said again, not knowing what else to say.

Bernie wrapped me up in his arms, hugging me tightly.

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