Chapter 2: Chapter 2
“Come in the ring, man,” he begged. “I’ll be gentle with you.” He gazed at my twenty-eight-year-old, five-nine frame, blond crew cut, and Caribbean blue eyes. Colm checked out my block of hairless and suntanned chest, blinked a few times, and added, “Trust me. That’s what boxing is all about…trust.”
“The last time you said that, I ended up with a misaligned collarbone.”
He chuckled, staring down at me. “I’ll play nice this time. Give me a good hit or two, and we’ll call it a day. What do you say?”
Fuck it. Why not? The guy exceeded levels of hotness, came across as being sexy as hell, and a great boxer that I could learn many things from. I actually wanted to feel his sparring gloves make contact with my chest, muscular shoulders, and wherever else he wanted to strike me.
As he helped me up to the mat, I informed him, “No face. Remember that. I’m a pretty guy for a reason. Boxing isn’t one of those reasons.”
“Why? Do you have a date with Chad tonight?”
“Chad dumped me for a waiter. You know that.”
“That waiter with the four toes on his right foot?”
“Yes. The guy looks like me, except he’s younger. Chad won’t be with him long.” I rolled onto the mat, entered the ring, stood, and faced my competitor.
Colm chuckled at my loss. We bounced sparring gloves together and began to prance on the mat.
“You need to pick better boyfriends, man. Chad was an asshole. He treated you like shit, and then dumped you. What the fuck was all of that about anyway?”
What could I say? Life liked to kick me in the ass. Chad enjoyed blond guys and any dick he could shove into his mouth or ass. He excelled at being unfaithful and a liar. I became his emotional punching bag and nothing more when we were together. A few months with the asshole taught me to despise him, and then a breakup happened between us. Any longer, and I would have lost more than my heart.
“Tell me about it. This is the third guy who dumped me in a year. There’s something wrong with me. Guys just don’t want to be around me.”
“You’re cursed. It happens to the best of us. That curse isn’t going to let up until the right guy comes along. Give it time, though. Mr. Right is out there for you.”
Mr. Right stood in front of me, and he didn’t even realize it.
“I’m not cursed. This is a lifelong thing that’s going on with me. It’s like a tumor that won’t go away. Permanency.”
“Shut up and hit me, Daron. Give me your best. Hand me some pain.” He bobbed up and down on his heels, grinned, winked, and huffed, beginning our play inside the ring.
I carried out three consecutive body punches with textbook skill, none of which affected my competitor. Colm came across as a big guy, strong, and a better athlete. To knock him down seemed impossible, almost like knocking a steel building down. Usually, I never won a fight between us, not that I had ever planned to, of course.
He nailed me in the breadbasket with a potent right jab, taking the wind out of me a bit. Then he plowed my left shoulder and almost knocked me against the mat. I stood my ground, though, felt pain arc through my upper torso, and chuckled.
“Is that all you got?”
He laughed at me in play and prattled, “Take this, fucker.”
Then he executed a dirty fighting move with a head butt and low blow to my gut, which I didn’t see coming. The blow felt deliberate and exactly what I wanted from him. Rough play indicated a pathway to the man’s heart, I perceived. If he wanted a fight, then I would dish one out to him.
“You’re a sleaze in the ring. No championship for you,” I instigated.
“A sexy sleaze, though,” he said, using his best tactic with me: sexual play.
Boxing entailed verbal warring in the ring, not just physical hits. Outwitting each other with those types of moves created legends in the ring, a lot of cash, and an unquestionable status. If you wanted to be the best at boxing, verbal maneuvers were just as important as physical ones, and every boxer knew that.
“That, too,” I admitted. “It’s the only way to be.”
I returned a wink to him, already head over heels in love with the guy, and felt my heart thud within my chest. I craved his affection and whatever else he could emotionally supply me.
Sex with the steamy boxer occurred only in my dreams, unable to happen between us in the real world. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not anytime soon. Melinda owned Colm’s heart, keeping him from me. Colm always said he was straight and claimed he loved the woman. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, interfere with their relationship, although a part of me wanted to. That could never happen, though. Not in my lifetime. At least not by choice.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone