Page 66 of Filthy and the Beast

He snorts a laugh. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No. I’m serious.” Taking my glasses off, I rub my eye. I feel literally shocked by how hot it was. “You moved faster than humans can move.”

Enzo turns, trying to hide how much he likes the compliment. “All right, fine. Show me what you can do. Just go through the punches I taught you earlier. You remember where to make contact?”

I set my glasses aside, turn, and hit the bag twice, a reasonably good approximation of his demonstration. “Like this?”

He nods. My hand smarts, but the contact feels good. I hit the bag a few more times. Meanwhile, Enzo casually curls a weight, his bicep bulging.

I stop and flex, studying my arm. “You know, I think this is the strongest I’ve ever been.” To demonstrate, I put my glasses back on and strike a muscle-man pose. “Just from working out with you every day the past weeks, it’s making a difference.” I hug the punching bag. “You felt like you were stumbling?”

He frowns and lowers the weight. “What?”

“You said everyone feels that way at my age. You did, too?”

He looks back toward the ring, his voice flat. “I didn’t stumble. I fucking fell.”

I swallow. Navigating this puzzle of what we can and can’t talk about is increasingly difficult, but he’s pushing himself and opening up just by training me to fight, and I certainly don’t want him to feel unappreciated.

He’s valuing my sense of independence. I need to show him the same respect.

Just wish a quick cuddle was appropriate now, too. Since that would be ambiguously against the rules, I offer up another compliment instead.

“So everyone stumbles, but you still punch like a superhero.” I throw my weight at the punching bag, hitting it as hard and fast as I can. When I stop, my biceps burn, and Enzo has half a grin cocked up. “Guess we’re both doing okay.”

“Yeah,” he says with a chuckle. “Guess so.” Smiling at me, he rubs the back of his head. “You ready for your first night tending bar tomorrow?”

“I’m just shadowing my boss. I won’t be officially cut loose for a while.”

My heart pounds from the workout, but the excitement of starting the job takes over, too. I think I’ll be good at it. After all, I’m a people person, and I’ll be happy to dole out my sex advice to total strangers.

“And you’ve got a plan to make it home safely?” Enzo asks sternly. “Can I call you a car?”

“I can call myself a car.” I enjoy his concern more than I would have expected. “And several employees have offered me rides if we share a shift. They’re all very nice, too. Maybe you’ll come in for a cocktail sometime.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah fucking right. I’m the worst type of famous. None of the perks, but still recognized whenever it can ruin my night.”

“Interesting. I’m picking up on the subtle suggestion you would consider a night at the sex club otherwise.”

He shakes his head. “Hell no. I didn’t say that.”

I purse my lips. “I could get you a free drink. Maybe even two.”

Sweat dripping down his forehead, Enzo goes back to lifting the weight. “Need a lot more than two drinks to go somewhere people are fucking each other right in front of me.”

I laugh. “I think the clients keep a respectful distance. No unexpected body parts in your face.”

He keeps pumping, not looking me in the eye. “Lots of people for you to play around with, right?”

It takes me a second, but I catch up.

Enzo’s insecure.

Knowing I have his feelings in my hands, I consider my words carefully. “You remember what I told you. I’m looking for stability at the moment. I’m not trying to find new sexual partners.” His neck muscle bulges as he curls his bicep, his eyes still on the ground. “Would you have feelings if I did?”

He finally drops the weight. “Not trying to tell you what to do.” He's not actually answering the question. “And not expecting you to be satisfied with just me when you’re working in a place like that. Whatever we got,” he waves his hand around like he’s trying to swat a fly away, “our thing. I know I’m not…” He trails off, then gestures with both hands like he’s throwing something heavy. “You know?”

I laugh. “I think I do know, although that’s a miracle, considering how few words you used.” I walk over to him. “I’m not bored having sex with you. Is that what you’re scared of?”

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