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As soon as I exited the still-new locker room after changing over, my brother looked up from wrapping his hands and gave me a crooked grin. “Well, well, well. Never thought I’d see this day. Officer Wilson, are you takin’ a boxin’ break in the middle of your shift?”
“Needed to blow off some steam,” I admitted, getting to work on my own hand wraps. “Mind if we spar a bit?”
“Of course not,” he said with a dry chuckle. “I’ll never stop tryin’ to whoop your?—”
“Travis Wilson, don’t you finish that sentence, you hear?”
I whipped around, stunned by the sound of old Mrs. McClusky’s voice. Not only was it out of place in a boxing gym, but it’d taken me back to elementary school when she’d say the same dang thing to my most rebellious brother.
But then my surprise turned to shock as I took in her bonafide fighting stance, almost gasping when she landed a right hook that had her trainer shaking his padded hand.
“Mrs. M?” I said, gaping at the woman as she followed up with a mean cross.
“Yeah, honey?”
I looked at Travis for help, and he only smiled wider. “She’s a regular. Spends three lunch periods a week in this gym.”
“A little physical exertion will do you good,” Mrs. McMclusky said between strikes. “Now, quit eyeballin’ me and get what ya came for.”
Unable to reply because I was pretty sure I’d swallowed my tongue, I pivoted to face Travis again. “I’m livin’ in a twilight zone.”
“Why? It’s totally normal for a ninety-year-old woman to box in the middle of the day,” he deadpanned. When I didn’t reply, he held up his wrapped hands and bounced lightly, pretending to swipe at me. “Come on, let off that steam. You’ve been wound up tighter than a two-dollar watch lately.”
“Tell me about it,” I sighed, getting back to the task of wrapping my hands.
As the youngest Wilson brother, Travis had always been good at reading people, especially when it came to family. He’d honed the trait during his time in the Marines, and he loved telling people it was the reason he’d wound up with his fiancee, Aurora. She’d needed someone with observation skills like his. Someone who knew people as well as he did. And he credited her for helping him find his dream with this very gym.
I was happy for them, but thinking about my happy younger brother—oh, and my two other happy brothers—had me throwing punches a little harder than I’d planned when Travis signaled for me to come at him.
“Somethin’ specific you wanna talk about?” he asked, watching me closely so he could dodge my strikes or sidestep my moves.
Well, and because it was Travis, and he knew before I’d thrown the first punch that there was more to this than a sudden need for a midday workout.
“Nothin’ I wanna get into right now,” I replied.
Travis was the last person I wanted to discuss my feelings about Paisley with—not that I wanted to discuss them with anyone, but still. What was there to say? We’d both made some choices years ago that we’d probably change if given the chance, and it was too late to do anything about it.
End of story.
“What’s a better time than this? Might as well give your vocal cords a workout while you’re at it. I know they’re probably rustysince no one can get a word in edgewise at suppers like last night’s.”
Travis landed a shot to my ribs, and though it wasn’t a hard hit, I grunted in frustration. It was just that I wanted to keep my lips zipped. I also wanted to center my thoughts on the future, not the past—even as recent as last night’s supper. When I’d seen Paisley’s wistful look as she’d held my new nephew, I nearly lost my mind on her right then and there.
We could’ve had that.
Not that I’d known it for sure the night we met… I hadn’t gotten carried away and started picturing a house, kids, and the whole nine yards after such little time together.
But in the years since? I was sure that was how we would’ve ended up if things hadn’t gone down the way they had, and I hated us both for throwing that away.
I landed a solid strike to Travis’s good leg, and he retaliated immediately. I leaned back to dodge him, impressed.
“Are yousureyou don’t wanna talk?” he asked between heavy pants.
“Is this a boxin’ gym or a shrink’s office?” I fired back as I blocked his swings.
“Both.”
I answered him with a light jab to the gut, and he laughed as he fell to the ground. I helped him up, then gave him a second to catch his breath before we got back into it.
