Page 23 of Training the Alpha

Chet blinks, his sneer faltering when he realizes I’m being serious. “You think any of the fighters in this town will take this place seriously when they find out it’s being run by a—”

“I saidout,” I growl, stepping forward until we’re chest-to-chest. “This isn’t up for debate. Your membership is revoked. Effective right now. If I see your face in here again, I’ll be the one Dylan has to hold back.”

“Good fucking riddance,” someone—possibly Jed—murmurs from behind me. Cassius looms at the edge of my vision, huge and silent but staring at Chet in a silent challenge.

“You heard him, Chet,” Max says.

Humiliated, outnumbered, and sensing the sudden, hostile shift from the gym’s heavyweights, Chet swallows hard, the muscles in his forearms twitching. I hold my breath, half expecting him to lunge at me, but he just shoves his way out of Dylan’s grip, muttering a string of bitter curses under his breath as he snatches his gym bag off the floor and storms toward the double doors, slamming them behind him.

I let out a slow, shaky breath, the tension in my spine loosening slightly as I glance at Alex. The flush on his cheeks has darkened, and his eyes are glinting as he holds my gaze, and there’s so much adrenaline rushing through my veins that all Iwant to do is drag him somewhere private and tell him all the things I’ve been too scared to tell him over the past few weeks.

I’m not finished yet, though.

“Listen up,” I shout, pulling myself up into the ring so I can be seen from all angles. A few of the regulars Chet trains with are watching me with hard, affronted expressions, and some of the older alphas are exchanging hushed whispers, shaking their heads.

But there’s a different crowd, too—a couple of wide-eyed eighteen-year-olds, some students from the university across town who have been showing early signs of promise, two dads who sometimes bring their sons to spar with them on a weekend.What’s the point of being the boss if you can’t set your own rules?

I clear my throat.

“Just in case anyone is in any doubt,” I continue, raising my deep voice so it carries to the far corners of the gym. “The Foundry has a no tolerance policy on abuse or discrimination of any kind, and that includes locker room talk. I’m talking homophobia, sexism, dynamic discrimination—you leave that shit at the door when you come into this space. Or better yet, leave it in the 1970s where it belongs. We’re not about that. And if you don’t like it, we don’t need your custom.

“And just to clear up the rumors: yes, I’m dating a member of this gym. Yes, he’s another alpha. And no, who I’m in love with has no effect whatsoever on my ability to run this gym, and train our boxers, and turn our rivals to fucking dust. We’re producing some of the best fighters in this city, and we’re going to keep doing that by lifting each other up, not tearing each other down.”

Jed whoops from the edge of the ring, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes, coach! Tell ‘em!”

There’s a smattering of warm laughter at his outburst, followed by a round of applause that a good number of the gym-goers on the floor join in with. It’s not everyone, but it’s a start.

“Okay, I’m done,” I finish with a curt nod, hopping out of the ring, blood rushing in my ears. I feel a barrage of slaps to my back and hands on my shoulders, but all I can see is Alex, standing there looking dumbstruck and beautiful.

He doesn’t resist when I grab his hand and lead us to the office, suddenly desperate for privacy and quiet. Not because I’m hiding—not anymore—but because the last fifteen minutes have felt like someone has dismantled me, put my insides in a blender, and then put me back together again. And I need a minute to process.

“I’m sorry,” I say when the door closes behind us, “if that was too much. I should have asked you before I—”

“You said you love me,” he interrupts, the pulse point in his neck jumping. His gym bag and jacket are lying in a heap on the floor.

My eyes go wide, my mouth dropping open just a fraction, running back through every word of the speech I just gave. And yeah. I said I loved him. And I meant it.

“I did,” I say eventually, eyeing Alex cautiously, scanning his face for any hint of disappointment or confusion or hesitation, my stomach doing a violent, hopeful flip when I can’t find any. “I guess I’ve thought it so many times it just sort of… slipped out.”

Alex lets out a small, incredulous laugh, eyes dancing.

“Shit.” I frown. “I wanted to—I should have done that differently. Been more romantic. I just—I’ve wanted to say it for a while now, and—”

“Shut up, Marcus,” Alex beams, cutting me off by flinging his arms around my neck and kissing me fiercely. And all I can do is kiss himback like I never want to stop, and let him feelthe frantic thrum of my heartbeat where our chests are pressed together.

“It’s the truth,” I say when we break apart, pushing his mussed up hair out of his eyes fondly and taking his face in my hands. “I’m all in, Alex. And I’m fucking sorry it’s taken me so long to admit it, because you had me from the start.”

He knocks his forehead against mine, his breath coming in shallow puffs. “This isn’t some elaborate prank, is it? Someone’s not about to jump out from behind a curtain with a camera and shout a tacky slogan at me?”

I chuckle. “I hope not.”

“Say it again,” Alex breathes, tangling his fingers in my hair.

“I love you,” I say.

“Again.”

“I’m completely in love with you, Alex,” I say. “Sickeningly in love.”