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“How is your family? Jeannie, Trevor? Your dad?”
“All good. Dad’s shake has gotten a whole lot worse…but you know what? Let’s skip that part of the conversation for now.”
She gives me a slow nod. “How long are you staying in New York?”
“A few days, I have a fight in a week.”
“So, you fought here, tonight? In the city?”
“Yeah.” I’m flat out lying. Would it be so hard to believe that I came here for her? This is fucking embarrassing. Am I alone in this? Is she feeling what I am? I can’t tell. I’ll just focus on the fact she’s happy to see me. It’s enough.
She lifts a piece of golden hair away from her neck, and my fingers itch to slide through it. “You look good, beautiful.”
“Yeah? Thanks. You, well…” her eyes roam over me appreciatively. “You’re a monster. You wasted no time bulking up,” she gives me a wink.
“Fighter training is a lot different from ball.”
She bites her lip briefly before she speaks. “I’m so sorry about the draft.”
“Don’t be. I’m better off.”
“Really?”
“Fuck yes, I-I,” I shake my head and dart my eyes to her scratched up hardwood floor, “I have you to thank for that.”
“That was all you, Lance.”
I give her a pointed look. “I think you know better.”
“Hush,” she says. “So, tell me. What’s it like?”
“Boxing?”
She grabs a pillow from her bed and hugs it to her body, obstructing my view before resting her chin on it. “Yeah.”
“It’s exhilarating. The best kind of high.”
“They say you could be the next Sugar Ray.”
“I’d rather be Marciano.”
“Going for undefeated, huh?”
“We’ll see.”
She scrutinizes me. “You seem…happy.”
For the moment I am, so I let her believe it. “You do too.” I stand because I’m fucking ner
vous and take the only space the room will allow to study the canvas printed photos that line her walls. Several of them highlight her talent in colorful costume. I get fixed on one where she’s mid-leap, the perfect picture of a prima ballerina.
“These are epic.”
“Yeah? Amazing what cell phones are capable of these days. René snapped that. It was cheap to print too.”
I glance at her over my shoulder. “Still can’t take a compliment from me, huh, Priss?”
She darts her eyes to the floor, her chin quivering.
