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Snickers echo around the ring as the boys start to chuckle. Well, mainly Malcom and Travis. Danny and Riley look on in pity, and I have the desire to show this bitch some of my new fighting moves.
Yes, Logan is a tad goofy and says the wrong thing often, but he's hot. Tall, with dark hair, and a swimmer's body, always smiling. A nice smile too. He's always nice, so I never understand when a girl rejects him. Maybe they don’t like their guys weird and quirky, but some don’t care as long as they're hot. I know that Logan has a big heart to give. If only he could stop putting his foot in his mouth, but who knows, maybe he’ll one day find someone who likes that about him. That will be a winner.
I give him a sad smile, putting a hand on Logan’s arm. “You want me to talk to her for you?”
At that, he chuckles but shakes his head. “Nah, it’s all good. Probably best that I don’t date a woman that could possibly kick my ass.”
Just as I was about to agree, Riley claps his hands, drawing our attention. “Speaking of.” He focuses on Logan. “You ready?”
He furrows his brow. “For what?”
“To get your ass kicked by a girl.”
We’reboth all geared up, with headgear and gloves. Logan is on one end of the ring, trying to talk his way out of fighting with me. “You never said I was gonna be fighting Mia.”
Riley, who's doing up his gloves, explains, “You will not be fighting her, she will be fighting you. You’re not throwing punches, but pretend ones. The aim is to get her used to hitting someone in an actual fight, not knock her out.”
“This isn’t right. I’m not a test dummy.”
The gloves finally done, Riley puts his hands on Logan’s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You’re getting paid for this shit, so stop complaining and let Mia knock the shit out of you.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Logan mumbles sardonically as he makes his way to me in the centre of the ring. I hold up my gloves, feeling a little silly, especially when Logan rolls his eyes before putting his own up.
We both stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as I look around at the guys in search for any indication, but it isn’t until I reach Riley that he tells me, “Now, if you were in a fight and this guy was coming up and harassing you, what would you do?”
I look from him to Logan, trying to think of what I would do, and if I was honest, I’d probably say a smartass comment that gets me into more trouble, but what else could I do?
I think to myself, but only a couple of things come to mind and one of them will have Logan on the floor, cupping his family jewels, which I don’t think anyone wants, so I go with my next option.
I shrug and, without hesitancy, I swing and punch Logan in the face so hard, he stumbles back, groaning, “Oh, fuck!”
The guys all turned surprised eyes on me, and I shrug again. “It seemed better than kicking him in the balls.”
“Yeah, don’t do that,” Logan groans out, still holding his face in the headgear as the surprised looks turn to amused pride from each other guys.
CHAPTER 35
MIA
If I thought my muscles were aching before, they are protesting every move now as we all make our way out of the gym, throwing waves over our shoulders at the greying-haired man with a sleeve tattoo at the counter who I figured out was the owner.
The afternoon sun warms my already warm skin as we filter out into the parking lot, breathing in a big breath of air that doesn't reek of sweat as the boys shoulder their bags and each give me a hug goodbye and that they will see me back at the bar tonight.
They all drive away, leaving Riley and I in the parking lot shuffling our feet, neither of us sure on what to say or do. When did it stop being easy to be around him and talk to him?
He breaks the silence first, clearing his throat, and asks, “You hungry?”
I wait a moment and only then does my stomach growl, like the wordhungrytriggered it to come to fruition. I place a hand on my stomach and nod. “A little.”
“Come on.” He nods his head towards the car, and I follow him, hopping in and watching the buildings pass again as he drives until he pulls up outside of a small burger place calledLotsa Burger.The sign is shown in bright red neon lights, and a bell sounds as we enter the establishment, instantly met with smells of herbs and oils, the sound of sizzling meat reaching my ears. I follow Riley to the counter, where a stout, balding man stands with a tired expression.
“What will you have?” Riley asks without looking at me, his gaze remaining focused on the menu that hangs on the wall behind the man. Unable to think clearly, I decide to go with the most basic option.
“Just a cheeseburger.”
He raises a brow. “No fries?”
I shake my head, and he shrugs. “You can have some of mine if you change your mind.” He turns to the man, ordering, “Double burger, fries, and a Coke.”
