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What the hell is it about this guy? I’ve never in my life felt uneasy around a man. Hatred? Yes. Right now though, nervousness and epinephrine run through my veins like a liquid shot of cocaine. My heart is racing and I have this tight feeling right above my stomach.
Butterflies? For real?
Can’t be. This guy literally pisses me off. He looks at me like I’m a cloud of cheap perfume, like an overwhelming inconvenience that needs to be expelled from the room.
I stand there, watching Twitch run through combinations. He’s shirtless so I take my time looking him up and down, getting my fill of his glorious body. He has tattoos across his chest and up his neck but his stomach is devoid of ink. His arms are completely covered with intricate designs surrounding names. The one name I can actually read is Sia. I wonder if that is his girlfriend’s name. Instantly, jealousy slams into my chest but I quickly shut that down. Twitch is not mine to be green over. My eyes travel down, over his perfect washboard abs which flex beautifully with his movements, to his legs. He’s wearing black joggers that hang snuggly against his tapered waist and I watch how well he moves his hips. I honestly think I could watch Twitch all day. His body is fluid and smooth, completely opposite of his nickname. His easy motions puts me in a trance as I watch him.
He was correct when he said I’d heard the rumors. Rumors that say he is a vicious, wild and untamed fighter who tries to kill his opponent every time he steps in the cage. A sociopath.
I also heard he licked his bloody fists when he won a particularly brutal fight last year. Some of the rumors say he just got out of prison for the murder of his parents and he’s come to New York to get away from the whispers in Cali.
Farfetched? Possibly but I’m going to treat him like it’s all true.
He’s an unknown and unknowns can’t be trusted. These stupid feelings in my traitorous body can’t be trusted either.
Twitch is gorgeous, no denying that. He’s tall and built like weight lifting and protein shakes are a part of his DNA. He reminds me of the model and workout trainer, Chris Heria, he even has tattoos like him. Like his body, his face is striking with his brown eyes and black hair, which is short at the sides and long on top. He has freckles that make me want to trace his face with my fingers.
Calm down.
Twitch doesn’t strike me as a conceited guy so his cockiness earlier had me instantly irritated so I put him against Tanner, a beast at grappling, just to wipe that mask off his beautiful face. Now though, I’m regretting it. Though Twitch moves with ease, he looks too large to win in a ground and pound fight but what’s done is done.
I’m about to leave them to train but stop when I see the anxiety my presence has on the stupidly handsome guy, so I stay. Deciding to make Twitch feel the same uneasiness he makes me feel, I climb into the ring. Smirk on my face and arms crossed over my chest, I walk around the two men sparring. I see Johnny bite back his smile when I wink at him from behind Twitch’s back.
I make my way around the handsome man so I can see his face, which is partially covered by the head gear, and I can see why they call him Twitch. His head twitches to the side at random moments and other times, his nose twitches like it itches. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen but at the same time I catch myself worrying it’ll become a distraction and mess him up tonight.
Before I can think twice, I hold up my hand stopping the men.
“Will that distract you tonight?” I gesture to his head and watch his heavy breathing.
“I have Tourette’s and I’ve had it my entire life, sweetheart. I know how to deal with it. Why do you care if it distracts me?” I can tell my question made him self-conscious so he uses sarcasm as a shield. Despite the fact that I kind of feel bad for that, he’s irritating me with his fucking tone.
I roll my eyes as I reply, “Don’t be a bitch, Twitch. It’s not a good look on you. I’m only asking because you’re fighting for my best friend’s father, who I’m sure has put a lot of money on you. So tell me simply, is it going to be a problem or should I save everyone some money by keeping you out of the fight?”
Twitch silently stares at me for a moment and even though I can’t see his jaw with the headgear on, I know he’s grinding his teeth on the mouth guard.Oh—fucking—well. A lot of money is on the line tonight and I’m looking to get paid, not lose out.
I raise my eyebrow waiting for this guy to answer me. His intense gaze is starting to make me squirm and I’m not used to that.
“Look, Twitch. I’ve got my own fight to prepare for so either answer the question or you sit this one out.” Before I can even finish the sentence, he’s responding.
“I’ll be fine tonight.”
He turns, dismissing me, and continues sparring but like a petty bitch, who has to have the last word I tell him, “Let’s hope so.” I drop off the boxing ring before he can say anything in return.
I make my way out through the gym intending on leaving through the back exit but as I step out into the cool evening air, I see my white Mercedes is completely wrecked. I drop my bag and keys as I stand there shocked like nothing else.
Who the fuck did this and why?
This was my mother’s car! The car I bought for her right before she found out she had cancer again. All the windows and lights are smashed in with a crowbar lying on the ground. There are dents all over the body and the tires are slashed.
Whoever did this is gonna…
All my thoughts are cut off as a man with a ski mask jumps out from behind the open door and makes a grab for me. I jump backward into the gym, dodging his gloved hands but the man keeps coming for me.
I’m not going to run, this is my territory.
I move faster to give myself a good four to five feet from the guy then stop. He continues advancing on me and like most men, he thinks I’ll be taken easily.
Tough luck, asshole.
