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Wild curls made of platinum blonde hair precede the woman that comes around the corner. Her chest lifts and falls with heaving breaths as she moves around the counter Kit stands behind, and snatches a water from the mini fridge, and when she’s halfway through chugging the bottle’s contents, she slows and focuses on the two of us that stare.
Her hands are wrapped in sweat-soaked, hot pink wraps. Her hair is tied back by a straining hair tie, and her trim body is covered in almost nothing. A sports bra that holds little double As, and booty shorts that stick to her frame and leave nothing to the imagination.
She’s only sixteen. I know that from my research, but her age isn’t the reason I have to fight my body’s natural reaction and stop my lips from curling back in disgust.
Bright blue eyes a dozen shades brighter than the pair Theo Griffin – akaGunner Bishop– owns. But just like in Griffin, her eyes remain completely unaware.
“What?” She lowers her bottle and lets some of the liquid dribble over her chin and into her bra. She looks to her aunt. “Why is everyone staring at me?”
“Smalls. Oliver.” Kit turns to me. “Oliver, this is Smalls.”
“Smalls?” I lift a brow in question.
“Well, her name is Evelyn, but we only use that name when she’s in trouble. You can call her Evie.”
“Can he?” The arrogant teen doesn’t give a single fuck about manners as she looks me up and down. “Who is Oliver to me?”
“He’s a brand-new client,” Kit growls. She grabs Evie’s arm and squeezes hard enough to make her niece growl in return. “He wants to try us out, and when I asked who he wants for PT, he heard you knock Knox the hell out. He said that one. You’re finished now, right?”
Evie’s arrogance only seems to grow the longer Kit talks. “Yeah, Knox is a pussy. He needs to fix that gimp arm, or he won’t win.”
“That’s for your dad to decide.” Kit frowns. “And don’t say pussy. But in the meantime, Oliver needs an assessment, and you got a C on your last math test, so guess who’s up?”
Evie’s eyes narrow with rage. “I hate you a little bit.”
“No you don’t, sweetpea. You think I’m awesome. Now go. Start him on the ropes, then run him through basics. You know the drill.”
Evie’s assessing gaze comes back to me like she thinks she gets to judge me. She studies my Nikes, my shorts, and the t-shirt I picked up from a surf shop on the way to town. Then she leans closer to Kit and whispers, “Can I make him puke?”
“No! Now go, and stop being a brat. One hour. Show him the gym first, send him into the locker rooms, show him around, and then get started. We want them to come back, remember?”
“Uh… with all due respect…” I lean forward. “I can hear you guys.”
“Oh, we know,” Kit brushes me off. “It’s only fair you get to hear her attitude. She’s gonna work you hard, so to come back a second time means you really want it. Don’t let her bad mood get to you; she’s always like this. But she’s good in this gym, she’s knowledgeable, and she’s gonna be our champ in a couple years.”
“Pfft. In a couple years.” The teen snatches up a towel from a pile beneath the desk and slings it around her sweaty neck, then she grabs her water and walks toward me. “I’m already your champion, Kitkat. Show your respect for the next world champion.”
“You need to sit back down and study a little longer. What’s the point of winning twelve belts if you can’t count that high?”
“I can count.” Evie’s grumble makes her aunt smile, but the girl doesn’t slow or wait for me. She walks back the way she came, and expects me to keep up.
“Go!” Kit flicks her wrists. “I’ll have your paperwork finalized when you’re done.”
I dash away to catch up, but only make it six feet into the gym before I almost crash into Evie talking to another girl. I know that face too. I know them all. I’ve studied them all for a decade. I’ve watched these girls grow up in the news. I’ve seen their attitudes on national television.
“Alright.” Evie speaks to her cousin. “I gotta work for the next hour, but I’ll get you after.”
“You gotta work?”
“Yeah. Aunt Kit found out about my math test.”
The girl, Lucy, snickers and turns away. “Told you she would. Come find me when you’re done. I’ll probably be in the weight room.”
“Okay.” Evie turns to me – she knew I’d follow. Her confidence is astounding. “Come this way, Oliver. This is the Rollin On Gym.” She lifts her hands as though to show off the space. “We’re kinda set up in sections. Boxing ring in this section. This is the original ring that has always been here. It’s seen a lot. Dates for our parents, and deaths that we’d rather never see again. My Aunt Kit had her first date in that ring, so it’s special to us all.” She waves a hand toward the walls filled with equipment. “We’re fully stocked, so the only thing you ever need to bring are gloves, wraps, and a mouth guard.” She looks down to my crotch. Then my face. “Probably a cup too, if you’re worried about that sorta thing. You don’t need to buy gloves right away, because we do have communal pairs, but they’re gross, so if you decide to stick, get yourself a pair from the local sports store. Or online. Or wherever. I don’t care where. Make them sixteen-ounce and a decent brand so they don’t wear away too fast.”
She continues walking and gives no reaction to the foursome of fighters standing on the other side of the ring. Three Kincaids and Jon Hart stand in a huddle like it’s no big deal they’re Kincaids.
Aiden turns to watch us for a moment, as though he senses that his daughter – who is nothisdaughter at all – is nearby. After a fast scan of her, his eyes come to me and move away like he sees nothing important, but only a half-second passes before his gaze snaps back again. His eyes narrow, not in rage, but curiosity.
