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“Very funny. Maybe I’ll check it out.”
Howard yells for Garrett from the office and he smirks as he walks off. I look at Lance and wiggle my hand into my glove. “I’ll spar with you. Don’t hold back okay? Garrett has been getting tougher on me,” I tell him.
He gets serious all of a sudden and that’s how I know he’s in the zone. Lance knows how to joke and have a good time, but when it’s time to take care of business, he can flip the switch automatically. “If I go too soft, let me know to step it up. I haven’t really sparred with you since the accident.”
“Trust me, I’ll say something.”
Getting into stance is the easiest part. Garrett and I have been sparring for a few days now, but adjusting to this one arm is still not as easy as I want it to be. Once I’m feeling confident in my skin, I put my arm up, ready for whatever Lance is about to bring my way.
Lance goes to throw a punch but stops mid-swing. “I’m sorry, man,” he tells me, shaking his head.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sorry for me or something?” I ask, disappointed he didn’t throw that punch.
“I…I don’t know what happened. It won’t happen again,” he assures me.
I sigh, hoping he’s right. I don’t need him feeling sorry for me. I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself, I sure as hell don’t need anyone else to do it. “Can we try again? What if I make the first move?”
“Oh, a man that goes for what he wants. That’s what I’m talking about.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You need psychiatric help.” I get back into stance and wait for him to stop laughing and do the same.
He takes a deep breath in and then out. I watch his movements, studying each and every one of them as he gets ready. I can do this, I’ve got to do this. I swing my left arm towards him, wondering if he’s going to actually let me get a hit in on him. He blocks the hit and I grin proudly. Lance reciprocates the swing, catching me off guard. I was so caught up in myself he caught me completely off guard. I stumble a little, losing my balance, but I never fall.
We go round and round until I’m gasping for air. I’m exhausted but happy. Once Lance put his mind into it and quit worrying about my well-being, he brought the heat.
***
I thank Lance for the ride home and walk straight for the front door. I need a shower so bad. I smell like ass from sparring all afternoon. I’m getting better, though, and that’s all I really care about.
Ruston is sitting on the couch and he glances toward me as I walk inside.
“Hey Austin, what’s up?”
“Oh you know, just the typical stuff from Lou’s. I did nothing but spar with Lance all day.” I want to plop my ass on the couch but I really need to clean up first. “I’m going to shower real quick. I’ll be right back,” I tell him.
I didn’t lie. I’m in and out of the bathroom in a matter of seconds and damn, it feels so good to be in clean clothes. Ruston is still sitting on the couch and this time, I can actually sit next to him. He’s flipping through the channels on the TV and I raise my eyebrow. “So what’s going on? Where’s Tamilyn?”
That must be a sore subject, because he actually glares at me. I throw up my hand in surrender. “I don’t want to talk about her right now.”
“I’m sorry, man. Anything you want to talk about?” I have no clue why I ask when he just told me he doesn’t want to talk about her.
“We’re fighting, in case you haven’t gathered that. She’s pissed because I went to lunch with a female client today. My dad was there too, but Tamilyn wouldn’t listen. So I told her if she wants to be that way maybe we shouldn’t be together.”
I try to hold back my laughter. This is so petty, it’s actually cracking me up. “What is this, Rus, high school? Want me to talk to her for you?”
“You two have a past, you think I want that? She may try to hit on you or something,” he snaps.
“Seriously? Did you just say that to me? I was just trying to help you out.” I can’t lie and act like I’m not offended. I’m offended as hell right now.
“I’m sorry, Austin. It’s just exhausting. I don’t get why she can’t trust me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I wouldn’t stress. Let’s hang out and drink a few beers here at the house tonight and just forget it. She loves you. She’ll come around. She’s a female, they love that drama shit.”
“Yeah, well there’s some beer in the fridge. I’ll grab us a few.” He stands from the couch and walks straight to the refrigerator, where he grabs four beers.
I laugh when he hands me two of them. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. So tell me, what’s been going on with you besides fighting?” he asks me.
