Authors: Katie McGarry
West
“Keep your guard up!” Haley shouts. We’ve been at it for two hours and my arms move as if they’ve got hundred-pound weights attached to them. “You’ve got to step into me when you go for the punch and stop stepping back. This isn’t self-defense class, which means there are no points for running.”
We’re in the ring and Haley raises the pads she wears on her arms to her face as we continue the combination. I inhale deeply and throw a double jab, a cross, and my shin meets the pads down by her thigh as she instantly lowers them. With each punch, a breath exhales out of my mouth and Haley marks each hit with a grunt in order to keep me in tempo.
On beat with the music pounding out from the speakers, Haley’s feet switch—a crazy crisscross she’s yet to teach me. She rounds on me and she expects me to match her pace. “Come on—you’ve got to move. Keep it parallel otherwise I’ll crack you in your head or slam you onto the floor.”
She makes those types of remarks often, but since we’ve been training, Haley’s never taken a swing. I believe she could toss me to the floor, and I wonder why she hasn’t.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead, but another wave floods from my scalp onto my face. My hands are hot in my gloves and my biceps beg for a rest.
“One more time all the way through,” she demands. I shoot her a glare and swear the sadist smiles. “You’ve got it in you. Dig deep and find it. Same combo.”
Same combo meaning she wants me to put it all together. Jesus Christ, I can barely catch my breath never mind remember the entire combination.
Her legs switch again, but this time I move with her and I like the exotic slant of her mouth. “Good boy, now, if you’d keep those guards up, you might still be standing in the ring.”
Fuck. My gloves slam to my temples and Haley holds the pads up. I throw a jab and Haley ducks out of the way. “Who are you fighting, your grandma? Come on! Throw it like you mean it. Throw it like you’re actually trying to hit. What the hell, West. I’m not playing here.”
As if she injected anger into my veins through a sharp needle, energy rushes to my muscles and the double jab strikes, followed by a cross, a left hook to the head, another cross, a reload and then a low kick to the legs.
Haley drops the pads. “You need to step toward me and punch at the same time. Stepping first is going to tip your hand. He’ll back out of the way or worse, read the punch and take advantage of your dropped guard and plug you upside the head.”
I rest an arm against the cage for support. I lost the shirt an hour ago and my shorts stick tight, becoming an additional layer of skin. “Why so many damn jabs? My cross is more powerful.”
“Your jab is your most important hit. It’s your closest punch and it’s not going to throw you off balance.”
Maybe because I’m too damn tired to think, I shake my head to let her know I’m not getting it. She gestures with her head for me to straighten and when I do, she wiggles her fingers at my cross. I rub my arm against my forehead. “What about the pads?”
I’ve never thrown a punch straight at Haley before and the thought twists my stomach.
“You’re not going to hit me,” she says. “If you want, mock throw it and you’ll still get the point.”
My pretend girlfriend is cocky. “All right.” I widen my stance and “throw” a cross. Haley’s arm snaps out and deflects the hit and in a second her cross is frozen at my chin.
“You’re leaning,” she says.
I am. My body tilted with her deflection. Damn.
“If my cross struck you, you would have been off balance and I’d have the upper hand. All hits are good, West, especially if they connect, but a jab is your bread and butter.”
Haley picks up my wrists and shifts them near my temples. “You need to keep your guard up at all times. Drop it for a second and you’ll get the hell pounded out of you.”
“I know.” I start to lower it, but she keeps a firm grip on my wrist.
“No.” Haley becomes the only thing I see in the small gap between my gloves. “I need it to be ingrained, not a useless tidbit of information to be discarded as trash.”
With her delicate fingers holding on to me, we stay that way, silent, as the music continues to play. After a second, she says, “What are you scared of?”
Failing her like I’ve failed Rachel. Getting my ass handed to me in the cage. Being kicked out for good after graduation. I go to drop my wrists, but Haley keeps them in place.
“Tell me,” she says.
“Nothing.”
“No, you keep messing with your guard. If you do hold it up, you’re not keeping it tight near your temples. You move it out— Why?”
I stare at Haley through the small crack. “I can’t see anything else.”
“Can you see me?”
“Yes.” The top of her cleavage is exposed by her tank top and small pieces of her hair fall from her ponytail. She’s an erotic mess that my hands itch to roam.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I feel blinded like this.” With my guards by my temples, it obstructs my peripheral vision. “I can’t see what’s going on.”
“You’re seeing everything you need to see. You’re not getting jumped by a gang—you’re fighting one person. For three rounds of three minutes each, you get to ignore everything else in the world and focus on the one thing in front of you. Think of it as a gift. How many other times in your life will you be allowed that type of focus?”
Haley—that’s the gift in front of me. A girl who’s trusted me with her secrets and has protected me from the elements. Possibly one of the few people who likes me for me and not because of my last name.
She steps closer and her fingers glide against my skin. Haley turns my wrist toward my face and my gloves block her out. “If you’re overpowered, a tightly held guard can be your best defense.”
She repositions my wrist back out and consumes my line of sight again. “And when you’re ready to attack, you simply open up and take the swing.”
When our eyes meet, her breathing hitches. If I kissed Haley, would she kiss me back? Desire slams into me as hard as it did when I wrapped my arms around her three weeks ago and allowed my lips to brush against her skin. In the darkness, she became an angel bent on saving my soul. She angled her neck and I knew I could kiss her without an ounce of hesitation on her part, but I didn’t because Haley doesn’t know who I am—she doesn’t know I’m a Young.
“See.” Haley mock swings and nudges her fist against my glove. “You’re protected. I can’t hurt you.”
Yes, she can. Haley can learn who I am, who my family is, and hate me. I can let her down and, once again, be a failure. Haley has no idea how much I need this last shot at redemption and how much I need her.
She drops her hands and I lower my arms to my sides.
“But here’s the important part.” She waggles her eyebrows. “You’re never going to win a fight unless you take a chance and actually engage.”
“What about you?” I ask.
Haley’s eyes jump to mine. “What about me?”
“When are you going to engage?”
Her forehead wrinkles and her dark eyes harden. She’s sexy as hell pissed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
It must mean that I don’t mind angering her enough that she’ll cut off my balls. It means that when I give her roses, she tells me maybe we’ll talk. “You keep telling me what I need to do, then, instead of going for a blow, you show me shadow boxing.”
Haley lifts her chin, almost daring me to challenge her again. “Do you have a problem with how I’m training you?”
“No, but it doesn’t take a head shrink to figure out that you’re holding back.”
She leans into me just like the night we first met. “I am not holding back.”
“Yeah, you are. We’ve been together day in and day out for over a month, and holding back is what you do. With people at school, your family, in training, with denying what you feel when you’re with me.”
“Feel with you? Me and you—we are friends.”
“We crossed beyond friends the night we spent in your room and you know that. Fuck, Haley, there isn’t a moment that we haven’t been into each other and I’m not the only one in the room aware of it.”
Haley shakes her head and waves a hand in the air. “Keep your mind where it needs to be, West. In the gym.”
“Hey, you’re the one who kissed me in the cafeteria today.”
“Bwha.” A large puff of air leaves her mouth and blood leaves her face. “I was thanking you. For helping me. Not coming on to you.”
I ease closer to her. “You want me. Admit it, Haley. You. Want. Me. You wanted me the first night we met, you wanted me the night in your room and you want me right now, but you’ve buried it deep. It popped out today when you least expected it and now you’re mad because I’m calling you out.”
Haley goes blank, and, like the time we confronted Matt and Conner in the cafeteria, she goes into the frozen shock. I’m used to girls who tell me everything that crosses their minds...everything. Including the things that should be self-censored, but Haley keeps every thought locked away and maybe she doesn’t do it on purpose. Maybe that’s her way of keeping up her guard.
I glance down at the gloves on my hand. “I step when I punch.”
Haley’s dark eyes jump to mine and the hope, the gratitude swimming in them for changing the subject almost brings me to my knees. “No, you don’t.”
“And I throw more jabs than crosses.”
A smile starts to play on her lips. “That definitely never happens.”
“And I am the king of switching up between going on the defensive and offensive.”
Like I knew she would, Haley laughs loudly. The spark that has returned to her eyes is nearly impossible to resist.
“If I throw a jab...” I lift my left arm and mock throw the punch.
Haley giggles as she absently blocks. Instantaneously, I step and “toss” a cross at her and she takes a mirroring step back as she blocks it again.
“The boy can be taught,” she says through another laugh.
“Been known to happen with me and monkeys on occasion.” With each halfhearted throw, I step in, and in smooth, rhythmic movements, Haley continues to counter, keeping a safe distance between us. She stays close enough to block me, close enough to go on the offensive if she chooses, but far enough away I can’t touch and that’s what I want... I crave to touch Haley.
Without warning, I slide into her and back her into the cage. Haley’s breath leaves her body in a rush and those dark eyes focus on me. Her hands rest on my chest and her fingers flutter, as if not sure whether to push or to explore. With my gloves against the fence on either side of her head, I lean into her and draw my nose up her jawline to her ear. Her body is warm and firm and she smells so damn good.
“What do I do if I get pushed against the cage?” I whisper into her ear and close my eyes when a tremor runs through her body.
Her fingernails tease my chest as her hands drift to my sides. “You hit here.” She squeezes my right side and electricity blazes out of her touch and into my system. “And here.” Then squeezes the other.
I nip at her ear and Haley’s hands tighten against my skin. Images of her underneath me appear in my mind and I want the fantasy to become reality. “What do I do if he takes me to the floor?”
I watch her throat as she swallows. She has beautiful skin—soft, smooth. The gloves on my hands turn into a nuisance as the urge to touch her evolves into an obsession.
“Grappling,” she says a little breathlessly.
Now those are lessons I look forward to. “When will we start that?”
“Soon.”
I part my mouth and kiss her neck. Haley dips her head to the side, allowing me more access, and through these damn shorts, she has to feel how much I want her.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispers, yet her hands wander to my back and trace my spine. “I won’t date another fighter.”
“Then walk away.” I trail a line of kisses along her collarbone, up her throat, then pause, staring straight into her eyes, giving her the chance to end this now. “I won’t lie. I want this, Haley. I want you.”
Hot, shallow breaths leave her mouth and brush against my lips. The vein at her neck pulses as her fingers perform this light dance on the small of my back that drives me insane. I’m a bastard if I do this. She doesn’t know I’m a Young or that my father may have destroyed her life.
“West.” She says my name as a question, as an answer. Damn me, it was an invitation.
My name. That was my name on her lips. Fuck everything else. Haley knows the real me and for once in my life I’m going to know what it’s like to kiss a girl who means something.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” Haley whispers as she reaches up and pulls at the Velcro of my glove.
“Yes, it does.” I bring my arms to my sides and the instant the gloves fall to the floor, my hands latch on to that beautiful body. “Tell me, Haley. Please tell me it does because this means something to me.”
Her forehead wrinkles and her eyes are moist as if it’s physically painful for her to nod and breathe out the words. “It does... It means something.”
Need begs for the physical fast, but Haley isn’t one of the girls I duck into hallways with. She’s more, and a shiver runs through me. I lower my lips to hers and, with the first taste, I moan. Her lips are sweet, soft...perfect. She exhales, a contented sigh, and my body melts into hers. The metal fencing behind her crackles with our weight.
As if flawlessly synchronized, our mouths move in the same rhythm. Lips drawing in, hands learning curves and muscles, our breaths coming out at faster rates. And when Haley knots her hands in my hair, self-control ruptures.
My arms become steel bands around her waist and I lift her so she fits perfectly to me. Haley latches her arms around my neck and joins me as the kiss races past innocent and into heated—bordering on out of control.
Her neck beckons to me again and the most beautiful sound escapes from her when I give in to the temptation. The spinning in my head spirals toward delirium as Haley shifts her legs. One thigh moves and the other one follows to wrap around my hips. I relish her warm weight pressing into my body. Heat surges through my bloodstream and my fingers dig into her skin.
Then the entire gym starts to shake. Haley drops her legs and I shove her onto the floor, my heart racing and my body covering hers. Metal screeches against metal and I glance over my shoulder.