Page 12 of Falling for the Forbidden Fighter
“I don’t.”
“If you did, I’d make you quit. A smoker wouldn’t survive my dad’s training.” I wave a little cup in the air. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
He lingers around the window, looking out over the highway and the desert beyond. There’s an almost alien awkwardness to him that I find fascinating.
“The couch is all yours,” I say. “Shower is in my bathroom. There’s a half-bath across from my workout room.”
“You have a workoutroom?” Louis is already down the hall and through the door. He comes back out, looking stunned. “You’re rich.”
“Hardly,” I snort. “I make good money. Student loans put a nice fat dent in my paychecks.”
Louis shakes his head. “This is the nicest house I’ve ever seen.”
“House? It’s a two-bedroom apartment. I’m barely breaking a thousand square feet. Though I guess you were living on a ship for a while. Dad told me how cramped that can be.”
The espresso machine buzzes, coiling out two creamy streams and filling my mansion with wonderful nutty notes.
“Here.” I hand him the little cup I made in a pottery class.
Louis takes it like he’s never seen coffee before.
“You ever had espresso?”
“No.”
“Try it.”
He lifts it to his lips and takes a gulp.
“Sip it,” I hiss.
“Wow. That is… amazing.”
“Tell my dad tomorrow.”
“So.” Louis nods, taking another big gulp. “This is rich-people coffee.”
“I’m notrich.”
“Nice car. Nice place. AC always on. And your dad owns a boxing gym.”
I roll my eyes. “The gym isn’t some cash cow. He keeps it afloat—that’s about it.”
“But he’s a legend.”
“And he hasn’t produced a belt-winning fighter in two decades.” I clean the metal basket and load it up with grounds. “He sunk too much time into my brother, and he didn’t pay off.”
Louis nods stoically. “I’ll change that.”
I eye him while the machine buzzes again. All my hopes for my dad… I don’t know. I feel like Louis is the fighter to do it. And at the same time, I wince at the idea of watching him step in the ring. Every time Ricky fought, I was scared.
I’m scared now.
“Confidence is good. We can work with that,” I say, sipping my own coffee. “Don’t get cocky, though.”
“I have to win. Confidence has nothing to do with it.”
