Page 45 of Mr. Big Shot

Then she turns and walks off.

Ten minutes later, we’re in the ring together. Her fists pound against my padded hands. She’s completely focused on her quick-fire punches. She has good form, good concentration. She puts her whole heart into it when we’re in the ring, though I’m not surprised. It’s clear she bleeds passion for the things she cares about.

“Pick it up a little,” I challenge.

Her eyes spark with excitement. Sweat trickles down her neck, running over her collarbone, pooling in the cleavage above her sports bra. I shouldn’t look down, but she’s all fucking curves on her small frame.

My hand slips and she accidentally slams her fist into my chest.

She immediately halts. “Oh my god! Sorry!”

“It was my fault.” I rub the spot knowing I’ll be sore tomorrow.

She props her hands on her hips, her mouth flattening disapprovingly. “Should I chastise you for not focusing? The way you do to me?”

Another gymgoer walks up to the ropes. “Hey man, think we can get in the ring?”

“No,” I bark, still rubbing the spot above my heart.

Scarlett laughs and spins around. “He’s joking! We’ll be done in fifteen minutes and then it’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” the guy says, shooting me a sharp glare before walking away.

“Why do you have to be so mean all the time?” Scarlett asks, walking up to me and pushing me hard in the chest. “Stop being such a bully.”

“I’m not.”

“God, you are. You’re so mean to everyone.”

“I’m not mean to you.”

“You are. Or…you used to be.”

She’s still going at me, pushing me so I have to keep taking baby steps back. She’s right on me though, push for push, so eventually, I’m forced to reach out and grab her wrists to still her. She doesn’t relent. My hands tighten and I can tell she’s about to really let loose on me.

“Relax, will you? I’m still recovering from your last punch.”

“So? Maybe this is a fair fight for once.”

She gets one of her hands free from my grip. Good girl. Then she tries to reach her hand around to punch my damn kidney, but I recapture her wrist and spin her so I have her wrists cuffed together at her lower back. “You good?”

“No.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“You like it,” she taunts, bucking back against me, and her butt accidentally grinds against the front of my shorts.

Oh shit.

I immediately unhand her and take three steps back. My back hits the rope.

Don’t look down, Scarlett. DON’T LOOK DOWN.

She does though, and her eyes go wide, her cheeks flushing bright red. She’s so shocked and innocent. I look away and imagine bad, horrible things, anything but Scarlett in her matching leggings and sports bra set, the fact that it’s so tight it might as well be glued to her skin.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as if she’s the one who should be embarrassed. “Sorry. I took it too far.”

I don’t even say anything. What can I say?

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