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“Damn, it’s good to see you again.”
“It feels good to be seen,” I whisper back, seeing something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or if it was, I never picked up on it.
“Are you staying, for good this time, I mean?”
I look down at my feet, wondering how best to answer him, when he tips my head up with his finger under my jaw.
“Not having an answer is fine, but don’t lie to me, Mal. Watching you walk away once was hard enough. Just…promise me this time you’ll at least say goodbye.”
“That I can do. You feel like sparring with me a little?”
A wicked smile spreads across his face. “Fuck yes.”
His grin is infectious, and I find myself echoing it, anticipation thrumming through my veins.
“Let me just go get changed, and I’ll meet you out there.”
He looks down at his sweats and nods.
“I have shit in my locker that will work better than this, so I’ll get changed too, I think. I somehow know I’ll be sweating like a pig by the time we’ve finished.”
“That’s the plan.”
He leads the way, both of us heading to the locker rooms. As this is predominantly a fighting gym with a mostly male clientele, there isn’t a female-only changing room. For years, I was the only female fighter who trained here. But after my success, Hank has trained a few more over the years before they moved on. Still, not enough passed through to justify putting in a new changing room, so we adapted the ones we have to cater to both sexes, adding areas for privacy—like cubicles with doors and a few individual showers to go with the communal one.
The funniest thing was finding out the male fighters didn’t care. They had no problem respecting boundaries and being considerate, for the most part. We had a strict anti-harassment policy, so if anyone even thought about breaching it, they found themselves out on their asses. The only thing that raised so much as an eyebrow was the addition of a tampon machine in the restrooms, believe it or not. Men are odd creatures sometimes.
I split off from Blink. My personal locker is the same one it’s always been. I head to it, spin through the dial until all the numbers in my code line up, and swing it open, grabbing my bag from inside.
I rummage around for a fresh change of clothes, making a note to bring some more sets with me next time. Because of work, I've gotten into the habit of wearing my gym clothes to the gym, and then I head straight hometo shower and change. So I don't keep much in my bag. There are laundry facilities on-site, though. So, for now, I should be fine. But I don’t have an excuse to go home now that this will be my primary base for a while.
I strip and fold my clothes before pulling on my shorts and sports bra.
I swap out my boots for my flip-flops because I’d rather fight barefoot, but like hell am I walking through the gym that way. I toss everything into my locker, including my helmet, before pulling my hair into a messy bun to keep it out of my face.
I spin, ready to find Blink. I jolt when I see him leaning against the opposite lockers, watching me.
“You decided not to get changed?” I frown, taking in his sweats, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I got distracted,” he admits, his eyes on my bare stomach.
Heat scores through me unexpectedly, making my stomach clench. Before, way back when I was still just Malice, I had downplayed my femininity. I hid my sex beneath baggy T-shirts and loose shorts, hoping if I blended in, it would make me one of the guys and less of a target. I didn’t understand the power I had back then or how to wield what I was born with.
Hank had once told me that I was more than what happened to me, but after a lifetime of my body being used against me, it took time to rewire the way I thought. I didn’t have to pick between my boobs or my brain as if one made me less somehow.
I’m not alone in my experiences. My story has been told a thousand times over by women who have been objectified too.
Once upon a time, a man made me feel weak, so I learned to fight. I was told I had nothing to offer the world beyond what was between my legs. Thanks to Sugar’s guidance, I understand that what’s between my legs is fucking powerful enough to bring even the strongest man to his knees. My body is my greatest weapon, and I have zero shame in using it to my advantage.
Now, though, standing here with a man who knew me before I figured out who I am, I’m reluctant to unleash Reese on him, finding it easier to mentally slip back into the role of Malice than I had assumed I would.
My body, though? No number of baggy T-shirts and loose shorts will change the fact that I’ve filled out in all the right places. I don’t hide who I am from anyone anymore, and I won’t start now. I might not be comfortable unleashing all that is Reese upon him just yet, but there is no hiding that I’m more than just the girl he remembers.
I tilt my head and realize I’m both. I’ve always been both. There was never any need to pick a personality like something from my closet.
“Well, tit for tat. I’ve shown you mine. Now you show me yours,” I tease.
The boy I knew wasn’t confident in his skin. He was tall and broad, but his body had grown before his brain had caught up. A boy in the body of a man meant he found it hard to navigate the female attention he garnered.
