Page 39 of Under Pressure

But I can still hang out with her like normal. I’ll put it to a test. An experiment. I hypothesize that we can be friends and not have it lead to any sexual situation. Not everything we do has to end up that way. I’m in control of myself around her.

I pull out my phone and type out a text to her.

Me: Want to box today?

She said she would go when other guys are there. And Saturday morning is one of the busiest times.

Mia: Yeah, I’m free this morning.

Me: Pick you up in thirty minutes?

Mia: See you then.

See, she’s casual. Good. We’re both on the same page.

Besides, it’s important to get along with my coworker. It’ll make the study stronger.

I snort at myself. What a bunch of bullshit.

I sigh, putting my phone away and change into my workout gear.

Forty-five minutes later we pull up in front of Marty’s, her movements less hesitant this time now that she knows what to expect, but she still pauses as we step inside and a number of large, sweaty men look her way, some merely glancing, others outright ogling.

I shrug off my jacket and hang it by the door. “This is Mia,” I announce. “She’s cool.”

Most everyone nods and looks away, disinterested now, but a couple eyes linger on her as she takes off her coat to reveal tight athletic leggings and a form-fitting long-sleeved shirt. It’s not anything out of place at a gym normally, it’s actually nearly the same as what she wore the last time I brought her here. But the way the fabric molds to her curves has my hands both itching to touch her and cover her from prying eyes.

Jesus, what’s wrong with me? The girl can wear whatever clothes she wants.

We wander over to the main boxing ring, where Ethan is working with Lawrence, one of the trainers. Ethan’s footwork is solid as Lawrence punches back at him, ducking to the right to avoid the blow. Lawrence calls out a sequence of moves which he follows to the letter, sweat pouring off him.

Mia pauses at the edge of the ring to watch, along with a group of other guys waiting for their turn with Lawrence. Her eyes are wide following the frenetic pace of blows, no chance for Ethan to rest as the trainer comes back at him with punches to block. It’s building up his endurance, but I know it hurts like a motherfucker in the moment, your body exhausted beyond belief as you fend off an attack.

Unlike me, Ethan’s actually interested in fighting in tournaments, so it’s a necessary skill for him to build.

“Is the order of the punches important?” she whispers as Lawrence reminds Ethan to keep his elbows low when he blocks.

“It’s more about building up muscle memory, so you can do them without even thinking. You lose your wits sometimes when you get knocked in the head one too many times in the ring.”

She gulps.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her, settling my arm over her shoulders. “We’ll practice before we put you in the ring.” She turns to me with eyes like saucers, a panic-stricken look on her face. I laugh and squeeze her in tight to my side. “I’m kidding. Last time was an exception. You’re not going in there again. Not with all these guys waiting their turn.”

“Good. Can I just, um, hit the bag again?”

I nod and steer her over to the extra hand wraps. I’ve wrapped others’ hands countless times, but never felt this sensual awareness before as I wrap the strip of cloth around her knuckles and through each finger until it’s in place. Though it’s the opposite of undressing her, it feels the same, like I’m revealing a part of her as I hold her soft hand in mine. It was the same last time I did it too, a connection I wasn’t expecting, though I make sure not to let anything show on my face.

She clears her throat as I start her other hand. “Are there normally this many guys here?”

“On a Saturday morning, yeah. Same on a weeknight. Only time it’s really clear is the middle of a weekday. But that’s when the serious guys train. The ones that fight for a living.”

“Those are the ones on the wall over there?” She points to the bulletin board near the front full of Marty’s collection of newspaper articles.

“Yep.”

“You’re not on there.”

“I’m not interested in getting concussions.”

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