Part 17 (1/2)
”Tomorrow... When you're aching and throbbing and f.u.c.king s.h.i.+vering all over. Remember who made you feel that way...”
Noah's words trickled through my mind, causing me to flush deeply.
He had made good on that promise.
I was aching...everywhere.
I WAS SORE AS s.h.i.+T and in a sour mood. No amount of exercise or strenuous activity seemed to ebb the antsy feeling inside of my body. I had been off kilter since I arrived here this morning. I was hung-over and thrumming with barely contained anger.
By lunchtime, I had knocked out the three sparring partners Quincy had lined up for me. Lucky was the unfortunate b.a.s.t.a.r.d currently dodging my blows.
”You still brooding over your girl, Messina?” His voice broke through my concentration, causing me to falter and drop my guard, giving him the perfect opportunity to sock me in the jaw.
”Drop it, Lucky,” I growled, shaking off the blow as the sweat trickled between my shoulder blades. I was regretting mentioning to him that I had run into Teagan last night. I was still reeling over what had happened and I didn't need his two cents.
Resuming my rhythm, I danced around on the mat, twisting and jabbing, throwing uppercuts and upsets before landing a sweet left hook to his jaw.
”You guys talking about the smoking hot brunette Noah chased out of the bar last night?” Quincy piped up from outside the ring. ”Don't blame you one bit for chasing down a woman like that, Messina. Hmm...”
Faking a left hook, I fell back on my left foot before hitting Lucky in the jaw with straight jab from my right. f.u.c.ker went down like a deflated balloon.
”What the h.e.l.l, Noah,” he groaned, sprawled out on the flat of his back.
”What the h.e.l.l is right, dips.h.i.+t,” I growled, standing over my ex-cellmate. ”That's my niece you're talking about.”
”I didn't f.u.c.king say it,” he groaned, taking my outstretched hand and climbing unsteadily to his feet. ”And another thing, I can't believe you f.u.c.ked her bareback.”
”Dammit to h.e.l.l, man. I told you that in confidence,” I snarled. Waiting until he was steady on his feet, I socked him again in the mouth.
”Look around dips.h.i.+t,” Lucky, never one to mince words, pointed out without a second's hesitation, as he rubbed his chin.
I did and realized Quincy had moved to the far end of the room and was on the phone.
”I told you what happened,” I hissed in a low tone. ”I had too much to drink and got caught up in the f.u.c.king moment.” You did it because you want to keep her and you'll do whatever it takes to make that happen, a niggling voice inside my mind taunted me.
Shaking my head, I forced the thought down quickly, refusing to acknowledge to my brain what my sub-conscience knew was true. ”Just drop it.”
”And if she ends up pregnant?” he stated without any qualms. ”Getting caught up in the 'moment' just might have cost you eighteen years to life, Noah. What do you think about that?”
”Do I look like the kind of man who walks away from his responsibilities?” I shot back heatedly, glaring at my friend. ”Just do yourself a favor, Lucky,” I growled, spotting Quincy returning out of the corner of my eye. ”And mind your own d.a.m.n business.”
”Alright you two p.u.s.s.ies, get back to work,” Quincy ordered. ”Noah; I wanna see you work more on your right hook. You may be southpaw, but I want you fighting with both.”
”I thought this was supposed to be winding down period,” Lucky groaned, falling into stance once more. ”You did win last night, right? Or was I watching a different fight?”
”That's enough out of you, Lippy,” Quincy shot back, red-faced. ”Dedication is the breakfast of champions.” He turned his attention to me and barked, ”I don't give a f.u.c.k if you're more comfortable with your left, Messina. That right hook of yours is a weakness.”
”Come on in here and I'll show you how weak it is,” I muttered under my breath before getting back to work.
THE REST OF THE DAY Pa.s.sED without a word from Noah, and by five o clock that evening, I couldn't take another second of silence. My nerves were frazzled and I was all out of patience. I had questions, a bazillion of them, and I knew I wouldn't be able to function properly until I got the answers.
”I'm finis.h.i.+ng up,” I told Liam when I stalked into the office and grabbed my bag and hoodie that evening.
”Are you heading to Krash Sat.u.r.day night for Steph's thirtieth-fifth birthday?” he asked me nervously, following me out of the office and through the gym. ”You're invited too.”
”I don't know,” I told him, not really paying attention. I didn't care whose birthday it was and Stephanie Murphy was Liam's cougar friend, not mine. I had only met the woman a half dozen times on nights out. I barely cla.s.sed her as an acquaintance. And Liam was on my s.h.i.+t list.
My only focus was seeing Noah again, and well, the rest I would figure out when I saw him. I rushed out of the office and through the gym; the urgency I had inside me to see Noah was like a driving force, pus.h.i.+ng me out of my comfort zone, compelling me to go to him.
I was halfway down the metal staircase when I heard Liam calling out my name. Reluctantly, I stopped and inhaled a calming breath before turning around.
Liam was delaying me and it was p.i.s.sing me off.
”Come out Sat.u.r.day night,” he repeated. ”I need to talk to you about something.”
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. ”About what?”
He sighed heavily. ”I was a d.i.c.k yesterday. I want to make it up to you.”
Shaking my head, confused and uninterested, I mumbled, ”yeah, fine. Text me the details,” before turning on my heel and rus.h.i.+ng off.
There was only one gym on this side of the city that was decked out with the caliber of equipment and security that a prized MFA fighter like Noah would require. And I would've bet my last fiver that was where I would find him.
MARCHING THROUGH THE ENTRANCE of Frankie's Gym several pairs of eyes landed on my face, but I didn't care. I walked straight past the reception desk that was crowded by women dressed like freaking hookers and numerous photographers and reporters skulking around. Obviously they had come to the same conclusion I had and were looking for Noah.
The man on the desk stood up when he watched me stalk past but quickly sat down again when he noticed my attire. I hadn't bothered changing out of my work clothes that consisted of skintight, three quarter length black gym pants and a yellow t-s.h.i.+rt and I was really grateful that I blended in.
There was an elevator, but I chose to take the back staircase instead. I had a bad omen when it came to elevators in gyms. Besides, I knew where I was going. I had been here several times in the last six months trying to poach their members. The gym was on the first floor. The pool was on the ground floor. Noah wouldn't be in any of those places. No, he would be in the underground boxing ring.
White painted walls and cold concrete floors greeted me the minute I stepped out of the stairwell and into the room, and my eyes immediately honed in on Noah. It wasn't hard to point him out. A six feet four inches, tattooed-covered, s.e.xy as h.e.l.l fighter kind of stood out against the backdrop of middle-aged paunchy dudes. He was standing in the center of the ring sparring with that blonde man I was used to seeing with him on the television every fight night.
”Whoa, little lady, mind stepping back?” The tall broad, bald-headed man standing outside of the ring with a stopwatch in his hand told me when I approached. I recognized him from the magazine's I'd read. His name was Quinn Jones and the man was MFA royalty. ”This is no place for a little thing like you.”
”Yes,” I shot back heatedly. ”As a matter of fact, I do mind.” Turning my attention to the ring, I cleared my throat and called out, ”what did you mean when you said she took advantage of you?”
”Not here, Thorn,” Noah growled, as he continued to spar with the blonde guy, not breaking his stride to look in my direction.
Refusing to be ignored, I walked over to the half opened cupboard, removed a pair of gloves and pulled them on before marching back to the ring and climbing in.
Tapping Noah on the shoulder when I reached him, I stood up as tall as I could and said, ”now you can spar with me, or you can talk to me,” I told him, ”but you cannot ignore me.”
”Teagan,” Noah growled in annoyance, spitting out his mouth guard. ”Get the h.e.l.l out of here.”
”Teagan?” The blonde guy announced, taking a step back from us. His face broke out in a wide grin and he shook his head in amus.e.m.e.nt. ”Now I get it.”
”No, you don't,” Noah warned him as he ripped off his gloves and tossed them on the mat before turning his attention back to me. ”Leave. Now.”
”Not until you tell me what you meant when you said that?” I repeated. I trailed my tongue over my bottom lip, panicked and fl.u.s.tered by this magnificent male in front of me. I itched to run my fingers all over his abs and feel those ridges and grooves, his tattooed covered skin, the dust of hair beneath his navel that was cut off from sight by the waistband of his sweatpants.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I raised my glove-covered fists in front of my face, fell into stance, and jabbed.