Page 23 of To Love the Stars too Fondly

“I mean, you did say ‘any time’.”

“I did.” She ducked between the rails toward me, her euphoria infectious. “This is our break time between morning and afternoon classes. No students until the next hour. We were just sparring.”

“Does sparring normally include getting punched in the face?”

A bit of impish delight twisted her grin. “Come in the ring and find out.”

“Do what in the ring now?”

Something devilish stirred in the glint in her eye. “I’ll teach you what you need to know.”

I glanced down at my purse and stiff work slacks. “Got any extra shorts?”

“I do, actually.”

She patted my back with her slick glove to lead me along. Was I actually doing this? Was I actually excited about it? A foreign giddiness filled me; what the hell was this?

She led me to a locker room adjacent to the large training space, a single row of lockers leading to a few private stalls for showering. One was occupied, the water providing a pleasant ambiance. I recognized the clothing hanging outside the stall as Chiara’s.

One of Alex’s gloves was tucked under her arm. Her free hand deftly unlocked the single lock, where she pulled out a pair of high-waisted silky shorts, nearly identical to hers. “I think we’re about the same size. They’re clean, don’t worry.”

She tossed them at me, followed by a t-shirt. “I’ll get everything ready while you put these on,” she continued, and she left me to it.

I changed quickly, finding the shorts a surprisingly good fit. Today was laundry day, which meant I’d worn a sports bra under my work blouse. The shirt smelled like whatever clean soaps Alex used, but I couldn’t help but think I’d look so much cuter without it.

I stepped out of the locker room with the shorts, my sports bra, and nothing else. Alex hadn’t worn shoes, so neither would I.

Triumph filled me at Alex’s double-take from the ring. “And here I thought I’d be the one putting on a show.”

“I just finally got my excuse to take my shirt off.”

Alex’s grin suggested I’d done right. “I got you some handwraps. Safety first.”

I had no idea what made them so safe, but I had no objections when Alex slipped gracefully under the railing and stepped down beside me, then beckoned me to sit on the edge of the ring. She offered a hand. Curious, I placed one of mine in hers.

She pulled out what had the appearance of a purple ace bandage, though I quickly realized it wasn’t stretchy, which she began expertly weaving around my palm and wrist, then between each of my fingers. These were clearly new, given the wilted appearance of the ones wrapped around her own hands, but as much as I wanted to fixate on the implications of her potentially spending her money on me, I was far too distracted by her grip on my forearm and occasional brush of her fingertips.

“Was all this just an elaborate scheme to hold my hand?” I teased, and her ensuing grin reminded me far too much of last night.

“Obviously.” Regrettably, she released my hand but then started on the second wrap. I tested the first, finding it secure but comfortable. “You can’t say you aren’t tempted by the chance to punch me in the face,” she added.

I shrugged, the light mood invigorating. “Might relieve some frustration. I’m feeling so pent-up for some reason.”

“Oh, are you?” Alex laughed when I pouted. As she secured the second wrap, she added, “All right, how about a wager?”

“I do love a bit of gambling.”

“I’m going to teach you a few moves. You land a proper hit on me—doesn’t matter where—and I’ll give you what you want.”

I raised an eyebrow as she handed me a pair of boxing gloves. “And what is it that I want?”

Her voice lowered, husky and cruel. “I’ll drag you into the bathroom and fuck you against the door.”

My grin only widened. God, she was fun, and I pressed my arms together as I put on the gloves, making sure to press my tits together. “Here?”

“In the locker room.”

“And what if I don’t land a hit?”