Page 82 of The Breaking Pointe
For a second, I stand frozen in place, watching him abruptly end his session with one last punch, taking his time to catch his breath.When he does, his body turns around, almost in slow motion before he notices me, and his cold expression warms up. As it does, he quickly reaches for his phone, pausing the music. “Were you picturing the bag as someone in particular?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“Something of that nature.” he responds, shrugging. “I lost track of time, I’m sorry,” he continues, walking up to me, taking over my personal space so that there’s nothing but inches between us.
“I’m early…” my voice becomes mousy, “and you’re not wearing gloves.”
“It was an afterthought,” he says modestly.
I raise a few fingers to touch his bare chest, still damp from him sweating. Eyeing the area behind him, I get distracted immediately by a familiarly wrapped white box.
“What about those?”I ask, eyes still locked on the box as I feel his hand grasp mine, leading me to the bench.
“They’re new,” he says. “I thought I would upgrade.” He smiles as if that’s a comical statement.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”I ask, finally looking at him again.
“It is.It’s the first time I’ve upgraded, but not without Trey’s enforcement.” He chuckles.
I smile, tilting my head a little.“Can I see them?”
Colton pauses, taking in my question with a bit of hesi-tance then with eagerness.
“Absolutely.”
He removes the lid to the box, revealing two shimmery, green boxing gloves with golden lining.
“They’re not something I’d normally choose, but I think retiring the blue ones might be for the best.After having met this pretty incredible person, recently, I’m starting to like the color green a little more, these days—if you get what I mean,” he says with a hint of satisfaction, looking in my direction. Our eyes meet with no delay, and without taking his eyes off of me, he takes each glove out of the box, one by one.
Green.The same green as my eyes.
“Wanna try them on?”he questions me, pausing my thoughts when he turns to face me, holding them up.
“Okay,” I say inaudibly, taking my bag off and placing it on the floor before carefully pushing each of my hands into both gloves, returning my gaze to his face. “Now what?”
“Try me,” he says, smacking a firm hand against his abs as he takes a few steps back.
My eyebrows wrinkle up at that idea. “That’s not danger- ous?” I clarify.
“Elle, just try it.”He chuckles, placing his hands on his hips while shaking his head.“Just gimme your best shot. Right here,” he says, smacking his abs again.
Looking at the giant gloves covering my fists, I hold them up, imitating his stance with my best efforts before winding my arm back and throwing my best blow at his stomach. Right after I do, I cover my eyes, fearful of his response.
He lets out a gust of air, holding the area that I hit him, smiling as he rubs it, almost laughing.
“Alright, that answers my question.No gloves for you, Superwoman.”His laugh finally fills the room as he pulls
each glove off my hands, uncovering my face. He drops them to the side of us, then gently contains my bare hands in his, pushing them down from my face.
“Are you just saying that to appease my ego?” I ask him. “Hey, I’m a solid guy, but I know a good punch when I feel one.”The amusement in his voice lingers, forcing me
to smile.
“Well, before we go, I brought you something,” I state, dropping down to my bag to get all of the cassettes and my old cassette player, popping back up to his level once I’ve gathered them. “I think you should listen to these.”
He looks at them, slowly taking them from me.“Cas- settes…?” he ponders, staring at them.
“They’re not just cassettes. They’re motivational ones,” I say happily.
The corner of his mouth hooks into a side smile.“Okay, this isn’t ‘cause I freaked out the other day, is it?‘Cause I swear, I’m not always unhinged—” he starts to ramble.
