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No, what am I thinking? He has that family dinner tonight.
Still, I’d like to see where he trains.
When our shifts end at four, I follow her across the street and down the steps to the basement level entrance.
“Whoa,” I mutter under my breath as I take everything in. Exposed beams run the length of the room, with punching bags hanging down over in the far corner, and two rings on the opposite side. Guys mill around the place, some of them sparring with each other, some solo at the bags, and others by the edges of the rings. There must be a fitness requirement to get in or something because all of them are buff.
Lexie motions me to the right toward an enclosed office with glass windows, and I trail her closely, not wanting to get separated. Any one of these guys could eat me alive.
I take a breath of fresh air as we enter the office. Lexie wasn’t kidding about the smell.
A grizzled man looks up from his desk, glancing between us. “You recruiting people now?” he asks Lexie gruffly.
“No. I need to pick up a flash drive I left.”
“Like I know what the hell you’re talking about,” he mutters.
She points toward his computer. “That. Sticking out there. No, don’t pull it out. You’ll corrupt it.”
“Corrupt it? What are you—”
“You have to eject it first. The arrow on the lower right-hand part of the screen. Here, let me do it.”
She rounds the desk, shooing him out of the way, and he comes over to stand beside me, muttering under his breath something about how bossy she is.
“You interested in boxing?” he asks me when he catches me peering out the windows onto the main floor.
I press a hand to my chest. “Me? Oh, I just wanted to see what it’s like in here.”
“Want a tour?”
Is he for real?
“Marty, she’s not a prospective client,” Lexie says from the desk. “Tessa works with me at Kate’s Kitchen. We only stopped in for a second to get this.” She holds up her retrieved flash drive.
His mouth crooks up on one side. “Let me at least try to squeeze a membership out of her.”
Me? A member here? He must be kidding. Those guys out there could bench press me. “Oh, I was just curious about this place because I know someone who trains here.”
“Her boyfriend?”
“No, um, Austin Langford.”
His brows narrow as he folds his arms across his barrel chest. He has to be at least in his fifties, but he’s still in incredible shape. “How do you know my nephew?”
His nephew?
I study him, searching for any similarities. Definitely the size. He’s got the same height and broad shoulders. Other than that, it’s hard to pinpoint anything in particular.
Oh, wait. He’s expecting an answer, isn’t he?
“He’s my neighbor,” I rush to say. “He was actually showing me some self-defense moves last night.”
His grin from earlier returns. “Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”
I blink, my cheeks reddening as his meaning washes over me. “No, we’re not—”
“I’m kidding,” he says. “Come on, let me give you the tour.”
