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But I guessed if I had lost, I would want a rematch too. Sisco seemed like the kinda guy that needed that rematch. Who was I to puss out on another fight?
“Hell, I’ll fight him again. But let’s make it before the bye week, so if I end up with bruises, I can hide during our week off.” I knew that sounded like a pussy answer, scared of bruises, but I had to keep Richard and the rest of the front office suits off my back.
“You got it. Bobby told me the gym was always empty on Friday nights and he was the only one usually there, so if you wanted to work out where the fight would happen, he said you’re always welcome.”
“I’m gonna take a couple days to recoup from the season opener and will be back in the gym before I leave town on Saturday. The bye week is in four weeks so just let Bobby know I’m busy until then.”
“Sure thing,Brett,” Al laughed as he hung up. He may have thought it was funny, but he understood my need for anonymity. He also knew that if anyone caught on, I would have to stop paying the hefty gym fees and he didn't want that at all. I practically kept his gym open all by myself.
It wasn't as destitute as Bobby’s gym, but when I went looking for a place to spar, I couldn't exactly waltz into a five-star gym and ask to butt heads with everyone. No, I had to seek out Al’s, someplace lesser known and with people that I could trust.
I tossed my phone onto the bed and got dressed just as Rhys was yelling that dinner was done. I hoped like hell it tasted good, even without the garlic being minced. I also hoped Rhys would stick around for a while longer. Not so he could cook me dinners or call me out about when I have sex, but because it was nice having him around.
After the soccer season was over, he was going to be a free agent and I was going to beg him to sign with Atlanta FC. Every team in the league would be after him, the choice would be his, and I wanted him in Atlanta so bad that I wasn't above begging.
Chapter17
Charleigh
As the week carried on, I kept waiting for the regret to come barreling in. But it never did, and by Friday, I was convinced it never would. Which didn't make sense because what I did would end my career before it ever got started.
I kept waiting on the league to call me and tell me I was fired, that Coach Peyton called and reported the incident. When that didn’t happen, I kept waiting for Richard Elder to call me and tell me he owned me. But that never happened either.
“Hey Kid,” Bobby called for me as I was putting my gloves on for the speed bag. “If you're gonna be around, can you lock up for me later? I wanna head into town and have drinks with an old buddy.”
I looked around and noticed there were only four people in the gym. Bobby obviously had a better Friday night social life than I did because he had actual plans. Meanwhile, I was excited just for the peace.
“You know it,” I nodded.
He saluted me and headed out, leaving me to once again assess who was in the gym. Three men and one woman on various equipment, all of which usually bailed before I did anyway.
Once they all left, I would just lock up and finish my work out without having to worry about anyone else coming in. Plus, it was safer that way since we weren't exactly in a safe part of town. Bobby almost never left me alone at night in the gym, so whoever he was meeting must have been someone special. I bet his “old Buddy” was promising him more than just drinks.
I wasn't judging, I was jealous.
For almost an hour, I got lost in the speed bags and the heavy bags, feeling lighter and lighter with each punch. I could go longer, punch for days, and never get tired, but when I looked up and realized I was alone, I decided to lock up before I kept going.
Tearing my gloves off, I made my way to Bobby’s office and pulled his keys out. I made my way back to the lobby and toward the door but was stopped short when I realized I was no longer alone.
Standing about five feet inside the front door, looking around like a lost puppy, was none other than Levi Peyton. He was dressed in gym shorts and a t-shirt, carrying a bag like he had the last time he was at Bobby’s.Gloves. He was here to hit something or someone.
“Everyone’s gone,” I finally spoke, making him turn to see me standing by Bobby’s office door.
“Yeah, Bobby said it was dead on Fridays and I could work out without being bothered.”
Bobby definitely didn't tell me to be on the lookout forBrett. Why the hell would he not tell me?
“Okay then,” I nodded and walked to the door. “Mind if I lock us in? Rough neighborhood and all.”
I was hoping he would see that I had been ready to lock up and decide to leave, but instead, he smirked and motioned for me to pass by him and head to the door. I didn't want to show him how rattled I was with him being in my space again, so I straightened my shoulders and walked past him with confidence.
After I locked the door, I tossed the keys on the counter and pointed to them. “When you get done, let yourself out.” I turned to walk back to my bags, ignoring how I could sense his eyes on me the same way I had in the corridor after we had sex.
When I got my gloves back on and started swinging, he made his own move over to the ring and walked around it like it had a secret passage in the floor. From the corner of my eye, I could tell he was judging the ropes and how worn down they were, maybe even scoffing at the mat for being so torn up. He hadn't had a lot of time when he was last there to really take in how run-down Bobby’s was. I was betting myself that it was only a matter of minutes before he got spooked and made his way out the door.
“This isn't the Ritz,” I yelled, not being able to help myself. The need to defend what Bobby had been ingrained in me. Those of us from that neighborhood were thankful for the shitty equipment Bobby provided for us.
Levi didn't answer me, just dropped his bag and started pulling his gloves out. Seemed he had a point to prove. On the outside, I rolled my eyes, but on the inside, the butterflies in my stomach took off as I realized he was staying, and we were alone.
