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He slips through the ropes by me and nudges me over to the wall, away from the others.
I glance behind me, holding a finger up to Lexie, who’s watching us with brows raised.
“I am so sorry,” I whisper to him when we’re out of earshot. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“What are you doing here?” His gaze sweeps over me, bewilderment still on his face.
“Lexie came by to pick something up and I was with her. And I…” I pull my coat tighter around me, glad he can’t see my stupid waitress uniform again. “I wanted to see where you box, too,” I admit. “But I didn’t know you’d be here. I thought you had that dinner.”
“It’s not till six,” he mumbles, still holding the side of his head.
“Are you okay?” I motion to his glove. “Can I see?”
He moves his hand, nodding slowly, and I step in closer, moving light fingers over his temple.
“Nothing’s cut or split,” I murmur, sifting through the strands of hair, damp with sweat.
He shudders, letting out a shaky breath, and I falter.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” It must be tender.
It takes him a moment to answer. “Just caught me off guard.”
“I don’t know how you’re even standing right now.” I continue searching for any lumps or bruises on his scalp, coming up with nothing. “I’d be out for the count.”
“I’ve had plenty worse.”
How can he say that so nonchalantly?
“I think you’ll be okay,” I declare, stopping my inspection. “Maybe some ice on it tonight, though?”
He nods, turning to face me. This close, he seems even bigger, especially with that shirt he has on. There’s no leaving to the imagination the breadth of his shoulders or thickness of his upper arms.
But where a week and a half ago I would have been intimidated by someone his size, it doesn’t feel that way now. And despite what I witnessed him do in the ring, that once-dangerous air I perceived about him doesn’t seem the same. Or that I’m safe from it, at least.
“You were incredible in there,” I find myself telling him. “I’m really impressed.”
He tilts his head down, rubbing at the nape of his neck. “It’s nothing.”
“You finished playing doctor?” Lexie calls out, and I step back, realizing now I’m too close.
Oh God, I was manhandling him, wasn’t I? Just took it upon myself to touch him, as if I have any right to. What’s wrong with me?
“I should go.” I stick my hands in my coat pockets again so I’m not tempted to do anything else stupid. “Have fun at your dinner later.”
I turn around, discovering the group of guys watching us, blatant curiosity all over their faces. They’re probably wondering why their boxing god is allowing some mousy girl to check him for injury. I didn’t ruin his man cred, did I?
Letting my hair fall forward to curtain my face, I join a smirking Lexie, following her toward the entrance.
“So you wouldn’t look at him a week ago and now you’re all over him?” she asks as we walk back up the steps to the parking lot.
I groan at her too-accurate comment. I didn’t mean to do all that, it was just kind of… instinctual.
“He got hit because he was distracted by me, so I wanted to make sure he was all right.” Is that a crime?
She makes ahmmsound, clearly not buying what I’m trying to sell, but I don’t know what else to say. How to explain the sensations coursing through me as I watched him box. How alive I felt. How visceral everything seemed. How I didn’t think twice about checking him out as he came over to me, only wanting to make sure he was okay.
She waves bye to me as she gets in her rusted car, and I head to my own, not that it’s much better. The rear fender has been hanging on for dear life for a while now.
