Page 5 of A Fighter’s Love

As she walked toward the gym she spotted a familiar orange van. The hazard lights were on and the driver’s seat empty. The van hadD. M. Miller Constructionwritten on the side in bold black letters along with a website address. It belonged to Dale, one of the regulars at the club. She liked him. He always had an easy smile and a few minutes to chat. She often wondered if he had a girlfriend. She was sure he must have. He was gorgeous—tall and blond, with golden skin and unusual green eyes. A few times, when he’d been in the gym’s office chatting, she’d had the chance to admire them.

She was some distance away, but could make out a person sitting in the passenger seat. Whoever it was, was equally broad as Dale, dark-haired and wearing shades—not a girlfriend.

A pedestrian crossing flicked to red and the traffic moved directly in front of her. Pausing with several other people, she waited patiently for the little green man to flash up again, her attention still on Dale’s van. She knew he lived in Camden and wondered why he’d come in the opposite direction from the gym. He usually said he was knackered and claimed to head home for nothing more exciting than a takeout.

The door to a Chinese restaurant pulled open. Dale stepped out carrying a bulging white bag and walked quickly up to his van, his long strides covering the ground fast.

Ah, that’s why. Food.

Jenny went to call out, shout hi, but realized she was too far away to bother. Plus the lights had changed and the small crowd around her was moving. Carried in the swell of people, she crossed the road. Dale got into his vehicle and as she drew closer Jenny realized it was Jackson O’Brian, the club’s top boxer sitting in the passenger seat. Well he was only just top, so Michael said, because Dale was a hot contender for the spot.

Dale climbed into the van and slammed the door.

The sound of traffic picked up, the lights having changed again. She was nearer now. Perhaps she should say hello.

But as she approached, Dale passed the bag to Jackson, then leaned close, smiled, and appeared to tuck a strand of Jackson’s hair behind his ear. It was a small gesture, hardly anything, and Jackson didn’t even react.

Perhaps it was that lack of reaction that caused Jenny’s heart to stutter. A sense of knowing came over her. The action had been so intimate, so familiar, it could only mean one thing—these guys were more than sparring partners, more than mates…they were lovers.

And jeez, no wonder they didn’t shout about it. Billy would have a fit. The boxing community hardly embraced gay fighters. Homophobia was alive and well in the gym.

A sudden pang of sadness for the two men gripped her. How awful it must be for them to have to hide their relationship, and their feelings for each other.

Dale pulled out into the traffic, less than ten yards from where she walked.

Jackson looked out of the window, spotted her. He smiled, then a flash of something she couldn’t decipher crossed his eyes and he pressed his lips together in that way he did.

Had the look on her face given the game away that she knew? That she’d seen how familiar they were and guessed their secret? She hoped not. And more than that she hoped he didn’t think she’d been judgmental. That was the last thing she was. It was good they’d found each other. Happiness was something to grab hold of and not let go.

The van pulled away. The gruff sound of its diesel engine grating up the gears became lost in the growl of traffic. The sweet scents from the restaurant mixed with the fumes and a few spots of rain landed on her cheeks. “Damn it,” she muttered, speeding up. The last thing she needed was to get soaked through, and on top of the strange feeling the brief encounter with the two star fighters had left her with, she was now even more reluctant to go to the club and help Billy.

But Jenny was a woman of her word. Maybe she’d tell Billy she couldn’t make it tomorrow, that she needed to go home, to her small flat, and put her feet up. She couldn’t remember when she’d last caught up on the soaps.

The club came into view. It didn’t look much from the outside. A set of double red doors and a sign over it sayingBilly’s Boxing Establishment. Several poster boxes lined the wall. They had old fight announcements in them which would soon be changed for the Jackson v Grinder match.

“There you are,” Billy said, opening the door and giving the impression he’d been hanging around waiting for her. “About time, too.”

“I’m here now.” She rushed past him. “And just as well, it’s starting to rain.”

He laughed. “Yeah, life’s a bitch and then you marry one.”

“What does that mean?” She scowled at him and let her bag slip from her shoulder.

He shrugged, still with a stupid grin on his face. “Just, you know. Life ain’t fair. Come on, there’s lots for you to be getting on with.”

“I can do a couple of hours tonight, but not tomorrow.” She held her breath, waiting for his complaint.

“What? Jenny, you have to.” He widened his big brown eyes. “Don’t do this to me, for fuck’s sake. Not with the big fight coming up.”

“It’s not for another few weeks, Billy, and I’m tired. I need a night off.”

“But what am I supposed to do without you?” He held out his palms and shook his head.

For a big guy, Jenny marveled at how pathetic Billy managed to project himself.

Stay strong.

“It’s one night, Billy.” She turned and headed to the office. The gym smelled of sweat mixed with the disinfectant the cleaner had just used to mop the floor.

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