Page 56 of Invisible String
I roll my eyes at how pathetically lame she is. How fucking desperate can you look?
“When you fight, I’ll go down to see you. Dad would love that as well.”
I snort. She ain’t seeing him. Her gaze goes to me like I magically appeared.
“You brought a friend?” Her voice rings in annoyance.
Max tightens the last strip of cloth around his hands until they’re fully wrapped. He leans in, his fingers curling under my chin. Max pecks at my lips. “I’m going to hit the bag now. You can follow me if you’d like or watch from here,tesoro mío.”
I melt under his gaze, his touch, and the sound of his voice. I have not yet asked what those words mean in Spanish, but I sense it’s something sweet.
Max reaches for his gloves. He meets Annette’s open-mouthed gaze, watching us. “She’s mine,” is all he says, giving her his back.
“I thought you said you didn’t have a girlfriend the other night.” She smiles at me like she won, and I lost. She wants us to fight. But I’m not his girlfriend, per se.
Max stops walking, but he’s only a couple of steps away. There are some women watching the scene. Probably her friends.
His eyes narrow as he looks at Annette. “We may not have labels, but she’s fucking mine.” His voice holds a meaning to everyone in the room. “And I’m hers.”
I stand from the wooden bench where I was sitting. “It was nice meeting you, Annette. I didn’t get to say hi the other day when you were here with Max. I had just missed you when I walked in.”
She tilts her head and grins. “No labels.” She rolls her eyes. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. We can catch up and talk about when we were kids. My brothers should be here tonight. They want to see you.”
What the fuck?She ignored it all, still determined to go after him.
“Annette, come here,” an older man yells from a corner where he’s training some teens.
She huffs and leaves.
“She’s obsessed with you. Does she not get the hints?”
“Ignore her,” he drawls as he takes a swing.
The muscles in my stomach pinch when Max enters the ring. I know this is just sparring, but damn, it scares me. Max bounces on his feet when the bell rings and raises his gloved hands to his face. His opponent mirrors his stance, and they begin to circle each other in the center of the ring. Max takes a step forward and unleashes a swift swing toward his opponent’s jaw. His opponent lunges forward with a swift jab, but Max easily blocks it with a well-practiced move. Dodging and weaving, he unleashes a flurry of punches—an uppercut followed by a powerful double jab. The audience roars as Max’s movements become more fluid and calculated, exuding power and determination.
Recently, Max taught me about boxing and the names of each different punch. He’s a fucking badass. Shit. My heart swells with pride.
His opponent loses balance and falls to his back with an uppercut to the rib and then a double jab-cross to the face. The bell rings to announce that the round has ended.
They go for three rounds. Max has the upper hand, although the guy is good. Max towers over him. With one swift hit to the jaw, the guy fumbles to the floor. The bell rings, and Max wins.My heart is beating wildly. This is just a spar, imagine an actual fight.
Max raises his gloved fist and touches it to his opponent’s. After the fight, he removes his protective gear and steps out of the ring. A group of men eagerly approaches him, congratulating him on his impressive skills. Whispers fill the room, recognizing him as a talented fighter.
He nods, passing each guy, not stopping to speak to them. His gaze is on me. Sweat trickles down his forehead, and his tan complexion glows. His powerful shoulder strains the seam of his shirt, muscle on top of muscle, and he’s all mine.
A smile of triumph spreads on my face. His hands go to my ass as he brings me to his wet chest. “Are you ready?” He looks across the room. “Every man has been eye fucking you.” He licks his lips. “It’s hard to fight when I’m watching you and trying to kick his ass.”
“No one has been eye fucking me,” I whisper.
“Oblivious, you are.”
I’ve been too busy watching Max to notice any men staring at me. “You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
He swallows and shakes his head. “Let’s go before I kick someone’s ass without protective gear.” He omits my praise. I’m sure he’s never been told. Max swings his bag over his shoulder.
I nod. He takes me by the waist, guiding me toward the exit.
Voices shout as we walk. “You’re a good fighter, man.”
