Chapter Twelve
brOOKE
You kissed him!?! That’s fantastic Meg
MEGAN
It was just on his cheek
brOOKE
Boo. Did he seem into it though?
MEGAN
yeah, a lot. He bent down and everything
brOOKE
I do love a tall man
MEGAN
He's very tall and very built. He's huge
brOOKE
How big are his feet?
MEGAN
OMG, stop that
brOOKE
These are things a girl has got to think about
MEGAN
I’m on my way to train with him and all I can think about now is that
brOOKE
What?
MEGAN
You know what
brOOKE
Say it, it’s not a dirty word ??
MEGAN
OMG shut up
brOOKE
Ha ha. Really glad you had a good time. Sounds like he did too. GTG. I’m due in court and the DA is looking at me like he wants to eat me
brOOKE
And not in a fun way. Did I tell you he’s hot?
MEGAN
Get to work
brOOKE
Fine, but I’m gonna need a full report after. Ciao bitch
I don’t reply to that because my cheeks are burning. She’s doing it all in fun and for my own good. I’m glad I have her encouraging me to come out of my shell. It’s what I need. Having friends is still a foreign concept for me.
Michael isolated me when we were together. The friends I had drifted away after I kept cancelling on them. Some of them tried for a while, but I could tell they never liked Michael. I guess they didn’t care enough to talk me out of being with him.
Both of us were good at hiding it back then. When he used to apologize for getting mad, and I forgave him. Once I didn’t have anyone to turn to, that was when it got bad. I never told my grandparents because they were in their seventies, and I didn’t want to worry them.
Mom had been through her own ups and downs and once she was getting better, I never wanted to drag her down again. Thinking back, I had a lot of opportunities to tell someone, to get away from him before it got so bad.
I shake myself. Michael is a distant memory, or I’m trying to make him that way. Thinking back on those dark times isn’t good for me. This may be the time to think about him, but only in the sense that I’m about to start punching and hitting the bag with Joey. Picturing his face might help.
The train pulls to a stop at Joey’s subway station. Anxious flutters replace the pep talk I gave myself this morning the closer I get to his apartment building .
Damn Brooke and putting thoughts of Joey’s dick in my head.
I’ve had enough trouble trying to stop thinking about that without her comments. For the first time in an age, I got myself off with a toy Brooke bought for me a while ago. I had to search for it in the bottom of my closet, take it out of its packaging and find batteries. That’s how I know I was serious and desperate to get off.
God, I have got to get this blushing under control. Joey never comments on it, but I see how he watches me with that knowing look, trying not to smirk and be his usual cocky self. He is really trying around me. I like that.
Joey greets me at the door and ushers me in. He looks amazing in his tight black vest and white work out shorts. My eyes are everywhere but on those shorts. Bloody Brooke.
For the first time since we started training together, I’m wearing shorts too. I tug at the hem when he’s not looking.
Joey is right, my legs are looking good after all the workouts. He offers me a drink and we take our bottles into the gym. There is a set of gloves and pads set out.
“So, are you ready to do this?” he points to the pads.
“Yes,” I draw in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
“Good. We need to get warmed up first, so run through your sequence and I want you to do a fifteen-minute run on the treadmill too.”
“Okay.”
He’s become the professional trainer as soon as we’ve stepped inside the gym. That is okay though. It takes the heat out of my cheeks and the pressure off about what to say after our date last night. It makes me more comfortable. Joey is so attuned to what I need.
As I work through the stretches and brief cardio Joey taught me when we first started training, he moves some things around. He disappears for a few minutes while I hop on the treadmill. I vaguely hear him talking. He must have taken a call .
He doesn’t come back when I’ve finished my cool down on the treadmill, so I head over to the pads and gloves and pick them up. The gloves are small, sized for my hands. They’re not proper boxing gloves. The back of them is open with a strap that fits over my palm. My fingers slot into a space beneath the part you punch with, and there is a proper hole for my thumb to protect it.
And they’re pale blue. My heart skips at the thought of him picking out these gloves just for me. I should offer to pay for them.
“Hey, you all done?”
Joey comes in and strides towards me. He doesn’t look happy, his brow furrowed. He’s definitely not as happy as he was when I first got here.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, fine.” He comes over. “Let me show you how to put these on.”
He’s standing very close to me, and he waits while I hold up my hand. When our skin touches, I try not to be obvious about the tingle I get at the contact.
“You good?” he asks. I nod. “Okay, slip your thumb in here. Make a fist inside the sleeve. How does that feel?”
“Yeah, they’re good.”
“Okay.”
He grabs another set of gloves that are a lot bigger than mine. I glance at the pads.
“I’m going to show you form first, how to move your legs, arm movements. I want you to just try to copy me, yeah?”
“Sure.”
I do my best to emulate what he is doing. Occasionally he has to pause and help me into position, once he stands behind me, but before he touches me, he steps back. I see him in the mirror, his brow has even deeper creases in it.
“I need to just move you,” he says.
“It’s okay, I’m fine with that. I want to get it right. ”
His head lifts and our eyes meet in the mirror. His expression gentles. Joey places his gloved hands on my hips and turns me. It’s not the same as being skin to skin, but he’s close. I can feel the body heat coming from him. I almost sway backwards to make more contact, but catch myself.
Once he has me where he wants me, he goes back to my side and shows me how to twist my torso when punching out. How to pull my arms back and put my guard up, then dipping and twisting.
All the while he is explaining what each move is, defense, attack, avoidance. He’s gone monotone and distant. It’s not like Joey.
I’m sweating when he goes to grab us a drink, tossing his gloves onto the floor.
“You’re ready to have a go at sparring with the pads.”
He looks at the floor rather than me.
“Joey? You seem distracted. Do you want to call it for the day?”
“What? No,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Meg, I know I’ve been kind of distant.”
“Is everything alright?”
He sighs and puts his hands on his hips. After a few moments, he lifts his head. “I just had a call with Sam. It’s about this fight someone has asked for. They want to bring it forward. I’ve only just agreed to do it. He was giving me the heads up about something this guy is doing.”
“What do you mean?” I take off my gloves and set them down so I can have a drink too.
“It’s what we call a grudge match. I beat him a few months ago, and he wants a re-match. I hate them because they’re generally more emotionally charged than other fights. Sam just let me know he’s been making comments about the match.”
“I take it they’re not very nice.”
“Not in the least. I checked them out before I came back in. I’m really sorry, Meg. I shouldn’t let myself lose focus while I’m training you. ”
“It’s okay. It’s been a good session. I’m just worried about you.”
He maintains eye contact with me in complete silence. My chest constricts because he isn’t looking at me like he’s pissed about that. His lip tilts on one side and some of the old Joey returns.
“I’m not worried, per se. I just hate it when people talk shit. It’s unnecessary. He’s trying to hype things up, and it puts pressure on everyone involved. It’s bad enough it’s a re-match, especially so soon after our last fight.”
I don’t understand the inner workings of MMA fighting, but from what he said last night, how passionate he is about this, how much respect he has for his opponents, it seems this guy is throwing something in his face. There is no respect there if he’s making a point of talking crap about Joey.
“Can you beat him?”
Joey laughs at my question. Not in a you’re asking stupid questions kind of way, more in surprise that is what I’ve asked.
“I don’t like to get cocky about fights. Our last match wasn’t easy, but I beat him by a knockout.”
My nose wrinkles. I blink a few times and look away. It wasn’t often that I lost consciousness when Michael lost his temper, but it happened. It’s no fun when you’re hit so hard you’re knocked out. The last time it happened was when Jenna came to my apartment.
He knocked me out and fought with her. When I woke up, he had her pinned against the fridge in the kitchen. He was choking her even as she fought hard, hitting him with everything she had.
I shake my head hard to forget about it. Joey takes a step towards me, his face full of concern. He guides me over to the bench and helps me to sit down.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Please don’t worry.”
“Maybe we should call it for today. I have some shit I need to deal with over this whole mess. ”
“Okay.”
I hate seeing him like this. It makes me feel things I wasn’t expecting. This is bothering him. He takes his matches seriously, approaches them with professionalism and respect. It’s nothing like I thought a professional fighter would be like.
Joey is full of contradictions and misconceptions.
“Are you going to start match training soon?”
I know what it is like when the fighters are prepping for a fight. I’ve seen it enough at the gym, before I stopped going.
“Yeah, after next week. I won’t have time for this,” he says apologetically.
“It’s okay, to be honest, I’d rather you were ready to take this guy on. He’s talking shit about you.”
Joey lets out a laugh and I’m happy to see some of the darkness lift. I don’t enjoy seeing him angry. And not because it scares me. I’ve never felt scared around Joey. It’s more that I’m angry for him.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, but I appreciate the offer.”
We sit and stare at one another. I can’t help but feel like this is going to be the last time we have here, at least for a while.
My heart aches at the thought of not seeing him. It’s a disappointment about training. I mean, we’re just getting started on what I want to learn from him. Of course that is all it is.
“Actually, there is something you can do,” Joey says, his gaze intent. His eyes dip to my mouth before shooting back up to my eyes.
“What’s that?” I ask breathily, and the look he gives me has my thighs clenching together.