Page 30 of Fight for Forever

Michael isolated me when we were together. The friends I had drifted away after I kept cancelling on them. Some of them tried for a while, but I could tell they never liked Michael. I guess they didn’t care enough to talk me out of being with him.

Both of us were good at hiding it back then. When he used to apologize for getting mad, and I forgave him. Once I didn’t have anyone to turn to, that was when it got bad. I never told my grandparents because they were in their seventies, and I didn’t want to worry them.

Mom had been through her own ups and downs and once she was getting better, I never wanted to drag her down again. Thinking back, I had a lot of opportunities to tell someone, to get away from him before it got so bad.

I shake myself. Michael is a distant memory, or I’m trying to make him that way. Thinking back on those dark times isn’t good for me. This may be the time to think about him, but only in the sense that I’m about to start punching and hitting the bag with Joey. Picturing his face might help.

The train pulls to a stop at Joey’s subway station. Anxious flutters replace the pep talk I gave myself this morning the closer I get to his apartment building.

Damn Brooke and putting thoughts of Joey’s dick in my head.

I’ve had enough trouble trying to stop thinking about that without her comments. For the first time in an age, I got myself off with a toy Brooke bought for me a while ago. I had to search for it in the bottom of my closet, take it out of its packaging and find batteries. That’s how I know I was serious and desperate to get off.

God, I have got to get this blushing under control. Joey never comments on it, but I see how he watches me with that knowing look, trying not to smirk and be his usual cocky self. He is really trying around me. I like that.

Joey greets me at the door and ushers me in. He looks amazing in his tight black vest and white work out shorts. My eyes are everywhere but on those shorts. Bloody Brooke.

For the first time since we started training together, I’m wearing shorts too. I tug at the hem when he’s not looking.

Joey is right, my legs are looking good after all the workouts. He offers me a drink and we take our bottles into the gym. There is a set of gloves and pads set out.

“So, are you ready to do this?” he points to the pads.

“Yes,” I draw in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Good. We need to get warmed up first, so run through your sequence and I want you to do a fifteen-minute run on the treadmill too.”

“Okay.”

He’s become the professional trainer as soon as we’ve stepped inside the gym. That is okay though. It takes the heat out of my cheeks and the pressure off about what to say after our date last night. It makes me more comfortable. Joey is so attuned to what I need.

As I work through the stretches and brief cardio Joey taught me when we first started training, he moves some things around. He disappears for a few minutes while I hop on the treadmill. I vaguely hear him talking. He must have taken a call.

He doesn’t come back when I’ve finished my cool down on the treadmill, so I head over to the pads and gloves and pick them up. The gloves are small, sized for my hands. They’re not proper boxing gloves. The back of them is open with a strap that fits over my palm. My fingers slot into a space beneath the part you punch with, and there is a proper hole for my thumb to protect it.

And they’re pale blue. My heart skips at the thought of him picking out these gloves just for me. I should offer to pay for them.

“Hey, you all done?”

Joey comes in and strides towards me. He doesn’t look happy, his brow furrowed. He’s definitely not as happy as he was when I first got here.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, fine.” He comes over. “Let me show you how to put these on.”

He’s standing very close to me, and he waits while I hold up my hand. When our skin touches, I try not to be obvious about the tingle I get at the contact.

“You good?” he asks. I nod. “Okay, slip your thumb in here. Make a fist inside the sleeve. How does that feel?”

“Yeah, they’re good.”

“Okay.”

He grabs another set of gloves that are a lot bigger than mine. I glance at the pads.

“I’m going to show you form first, how to move your legs, arm movements. I want you to just try to copy me, yeah?”

“Sure.”

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