by Ciz, Alley
“Why do you look like your favorite contestant just got eliminated from Dancing with the Stars?” her brother asked, his tatted arm draping around her shoulders as he joined them.
“Looks like we can officially rename the twelfth floor The Steele Maker floor.” She hooked a thumb at Gage. “Turns out Gage was the one to buy 12C.”
“Ahh…no wonder they were so tight-lipped about who bought it,” Vince observed. “You done here?” He nodded his head toward Gage.
“Yup,” she answered, automatically reaching for the Spider-Man hand wraps her man-child of a brother chose for the day.
“Good.” She went through the same dance with Vince as she had with Gage, except her brother didn’t give her butterflies like Gage did—which was good, because that would be illegal.
“I think you need to ‘work’ with Griff today,” Vince said with air quotes. “He’s kind of a mess over tonight.”
Their group had plans to see the girl Griff had been dating spin at a club in New Brunswick. The relationship was relatively new and Griff was kind of a basket case over it.
“Of course.” She dropped his hand. “What would you boys do without me?” Sure, the gym wasn’t her first choice of employment, but there were moments that more than made up for the compromise she made.
“We’d be lost without you, that’s for sure.” Sarcasm dripped from her brother’s words and she rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, bro.” She took him by the shoulders and pointed him to the front of the gym. “Now you two go warm up on the treadmills and let me do my job.”
She glanced at Gage one more time, unable to read the expression on his face as he watched her and Vince interact. It wouldn’t be the first time a person couldn’t figure them out. Though talkative earlier, he hadn’t said a word since her larger-than-life brother joined them.
He seemed to hesitate, rolling back his shoulders, shaking out his now wrapped hands, before he followed her directive and headed for the treadmills with her brother.
* * *
Training with the Steele brothers was no joke. Gage used a towel to wipe the sweat from his face, sucking down water like a camel in the desert. He wondered what he did in the past to piss Tony off enough to be subjected to this torture. He'd thought Tony pushed him to his limits training, but his old trainer had nothing on the force these two were.
“Come on, Kraken, get your ass back in the ring and show me what you got. Lord knows your boxing skills could use some work.” Mick used the fighting moniker Gage had earned by being one of the best grapplers in the sport. Almost all of his fights ended in a submission of his opponent. One of the perks of the long limbs his height afforded him.
Dropping the empty water bottle to the light purple mat inside the boxing ring, he retook his position across from where Mick held up the mitts used as targets for his punches.
“One,” Mick called out the command for a jab.
Gage, a southpaw, struck out fast with his left hand, hitting the mitt with a loud swack.
“One-two,” Mick called for the double hit of a jab then a cross.
Again, out with his left hand first, then crossing his right across his body, he hit the same target back-to-back.
“One-two-three.” The call for the jab-cross-hook combo came without delay.
This time when he swung his left arm out and around for the hook, instead of letting the punch hit the mitt, Mick ducked down to avoid the punch like he would in a fight.
“Good.” Mick held the mitts back in position. “One-two-three-four.”
Lightning fast, he completed the punch combination with an uppercut hitting so hard that Mick raised up on his toes to help absorb the blow.
“Much better. We’ll make a boxer out of you yet,” Mick praised him before running him through the paces for another fifteen minutes.
“One.”
Jab.
“Three.”
Hook.
“Two-three.”
Cross-hook.
“One. One-two.”
Jab. Jab-cross.
“Two-four.”
Cross-uppercut.
“One-two-three-four.”
Jab-cross-hook-uppercut.
Over and over, Mick called out different variations of the punches for him to complete.
By the time he stopped calling combinations, Gage's arms felt like overcooked spaghetti. The one advantage to boxing was it gave his hip a small reprieve. The pivoting worked it but was nowhere near the strain on his recovering joint the way Brazilian jiu-jitsu and Muay Thai were.
He was uncapping a new bottle of water when he heard Vic call out to Rocky. His eyes tracked across the gym to find her working with Griff.
He wasn't sure yet how he was supposed to integrate with such an established group, but the guy must be nice since Rocky hadn’t stopped smiling the entire day. And yes, he'd noticed. He noticed way more about her than he should.
Your focus is shit, man. Your title is all that matters. Not a girl.
He should probably be concerned with how often he had been scolding himself in third person.
Yet he still couldn’t take his eyes off her.
From around the gym, a chorus of laughter rang out as the guys watched Griff jump to his feet after being taken down by a leg sweep from Rocky. The bear of a man bowed like the whole thing was planned.
“What’s up, Dad?” Rocky joined her father next to the boxing ring. He didn’t miss the heated look in her eye as she watched him finish off another bottle of water. Those looks from her made it impossible for him to curb his attraction.
“I know you brought it up at the beginning of Vince’s camp, but are you really able to tell all his moves before he makes them?” Vic asked.
Once again, he was happy to note it took her a few seconds too long to focus on her father’s question instead of him.
“Not all of his moves,” she said with a shake of her head. “Only his takedowns. His punches and kicks are fine, which is probably why we haven’t discussed this the last few weeks. But when he goes into one of his takedown moves, I’ve noticed a tell.”
“Okay.” Vic was silent for a long while before he spoke. “Get in the ring with your brother so we can get it on tape. I need you guys elevated to get a better read on things myself,” he instructed.
A beautiful smile stretched across her face, as she was clearly excited for what she was about to do. “Hey, Beck,” she called out to her friend at the front of the gym. “Can you get me Peter Parker and Jimmy Olsen, please?”
Using the ropes, she hoisted herself onto the ring, and he certainly did not stare at her ass as she bent between the upper and middle rope to enter the ring. Lies.
When he saw Becky setting up a camera on a tripod, then walking over to hand a GoPro to Rocky, he understood the references to the popular comic book photographers. He may not have spent a ton of time at this gym yet, but he'd already learned how much their group loved nicknames and superheroes. Hell, earlier he was admiring Vince’s sleeve of Marvel- and DC-inspired ink.
He watched, enthralled, as Rocky removed her loose top, leaving her clad in her matching snowy leggings and sports bra. The outfit highlighted the way her waist nipped in. She hung the shirt over the ropes and walked out to take position across from her brother.
The white of her outfit contrasted against her olive complexion and the vibrantly colored tattoo that ran along the left side of her body. He needed to get a closer look at the artwork, but even from a distance, it was striking. Almost as lovely as the canvas it was inked on.
He probably should move from the corner he was standing in, but he couldn’t bring himself to as he watched her clip the GoPro camera to the edge of her sports bra so it sat on the swell of her right breast.
“Beck, let me know when you can see all of Vin on the feed,” Rocky said, adjusting the camera on her bra, causing the mouth-watering, motorboat-inspiring cleavage to jiggle.
He bit back
a groan as he imagined sliding his dick between the plump curves. Fuck! Now is not the time to be thinking with your dick. You're at work, man.
Becky called out directions to both Steele siblings as she watched the camera feed on the iPad in her hands. Once the GoPro camera angle was set, she set up the tripod cam. By shooting this way, they were able to capture both the outside and opponent views of Vince’s tells.
“You’re going down this time, sis,” Vince taunted, prowling around his side of the ring.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro. I can read you like one of Maddey’s books.” She buffed her nails on her chest.
The two circled each other, Vince bouncing on his feet like he would in a fight, but time after time, Rocky was able to call out the move while stepping out of reach before he could make contact.
The longer they worked, the more creative Vince’s mumbled curses became. When they were finally done, the siblings were laughing, with Vince pulling Rocky in for a noogie.
“Damn good eye, kid. Damn good,” Vic praised Rocky as she jumped down from the ring. A proud smile she'd sure as hell earned lit her face.
THROUGHOUT THE DAY, Rocky constantly found herself drifting off as she watched Gage train with her father and uncle. Even now, while working on the weakest of his specialties—if you could say the prizefighter had a weakness—it was obvious why he’d been the reigning title holder for two years running. His movements were surprisingly graceful for a man of his size—it was almost like watching a dancer as opposed to a fighter.
She laughed as she read the text message dancing across the face of her smart watch.
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Take a picture. It’ll last longer.
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: *GIF of a Polaroid camera spitting out a picture*
Ignoring Becky, she went back to covertly—or maybe not so covertly—watching Gage while she worked with Griff. She told herself she was watching him in a professional capacity, but she couldn’t even lie to herself about her motivations.
“We’re all set for later tonight. I got everyone on the list so we don’t have to wait on any lines. We have a booth in VIP and we even have comped bottle service.” Griff’s sentences ran together as he spoke.
“Griff. Dude. Chill.” She placed a comforting hand on his biceps. “We all agreed to tonight. We got your back. So, please, for the love of god, relax.”
She couldn’t remember ever seeing her friend this out of sorts. His nervousness over their plans to see the DJ he’d been dating was a true testament to how much he liked her.
Griff was a dark, muscled bear of a man. At first glance, he looked menacing as hell, with his size and black ink covering both arms and his chest, but underneath he was more teddy than grizzly. Secretly, she loved that he was the biggest softie of the bunch.
He had been training at The Steele Maker since high school. Growing up a few towns over, it made sense for his boxing career to study under her Uncle Mick. He was now the gym’s top contender for the WBC belt.
“I know. But you guys prefer to hang out at Rookies—especially when the Blizzards play—so I worry you guys will want to back out of going to a club.”
He wasn’t necessarily wrong. Their group spent the majority of their nights out at Rookies, a sports bar located near the BTU campus, or The Ring, where she'd first met Gage. Jordan’s aunt owned Rookies, so they were able to relax in the separate, second-story bar area away from rabid fans who wanted to get too close to hockey players. That was the draw of the place, not a dislike like for a more traditional club.
“Dude, seriously. It’s no big deal. Beck and I can’t wait to dance. I’m hoping Gem will get done in time to come too. Make sure she’s on the list just in case.”
Using her distraction as they chatted, Griff attempted to pull her into a headlock. Accustomed to their group’s ongoing challenge of who could get who to concede first, she went limp then struck out with her leg, taking her bear of a friend down to the mat, flat on his back.
She clucked her tongue as she looked down at her friend. “Wow. You must be more nervous about tonight than I thought. I've taken you down twice today.”
She laughed as she offered a hand to pull him up, then turned to see if anyone else had watched her takedown.
Of course, her eyes instantly locked on Gage while he talked with Vince. God. Why is he so sexy?
The guy was a true test to her self-control. It didn’t help that the rest of the girls had been asking for daily updates, with the two redheaded devils—the hair color more than appropriate, if you asked her—listing all the places the two of them could fool around in the gym.
And the list was long.
And very detailed.
Par for the course with a romance writer in the group.
They completely ignored the fact that she didn’t date fighters. Also hooking up in the gym—a gym owned by her father—not necessarily the best of ideas.
Actually, they were the worst ones of the bunch. Relationships between members of the staff and the fighters were strictly forbidden. According to employment policy, she or Gage could have their contracts terminated if they were caught in a romantic relationship.
Regardless, as she caught the heated look in his cerulean eyes as she stared at him, those butterflies that had taken up residence in her belly from his earlier touches now attacked her like the flying keys did Harry in the first Harry Potter movie.
She shot a furtive glance at her father, making sure he wasn’t picking up on any of the tension pulsing between her and Gage. She sighed with relief when she saw his back was to them as he discussed something with her uncle.
Rocky shook her hands out to release some stress and headed toward the front desk. Maybe Becky would have some paperwork for her to work on or a new client record to review.
Luckily, her dad called for the end of training for the day. “Ready?” Becky asked, making her way over.
“Yup,” she answered but turned to find her brother. “You coming to yoga today?”
Vince bent down to pick up his workout duffel. “Nah. The guys and I are gonna try and keep Griff from completely losing it before tonight.”
That was probably for the best. Griff had been off all day. Being with the guys instead of going back to his own place should keep him from completely spiraling.
“All right. I guess I’ll see you at home later.” She turned to face Gage. “I guess you too, neighbor.”
He smiled down at her with one of his panty-melting grins, his earlier unease now gone. Damn, that thing is lethal. “It would seem so.”
She watched him exit the gym, Becky snickering next to her when she caught her checking out his ass. She may be adamant on her stance on not dating a fighter, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t objectify his buns of steel.
Yoga had always been one of her favorite ways to work out. It kept her limber and toned and helped her muscles recover from the tougher sessions she put her body through. She also figured it was good to practice what she preached to the guys.
For the next hour, she pushed all thoughts of tempting fighters from her mind and focused on finding her Zen while bending her body like a pretzel.
Chapter Eight
Rocky loved living with her cousin and best friend. Having her brother right across the hall was another perk she’d come to cherish over the years.
After living at home his freshman year at BTU, Vince had convinced all the parents to invest in the two apartments, covering the mortgage as they would have room and board. They had taken over the mortgage payments now that they all had real jobs, but even those weren’t that bad thanks to the generous down payment the parents had made combined with splitting the cost between multiple roommates.
Though the rest of their gym crew didn’t live in the building, they did spend a lot of time there. Even now Griff, Nick and Damon were over at the guys' place while they waited for her and Becky to finish getting ready.
She bumped up the volume to Alexandra Stan’s “M
r. Saxobeat” as she made her way into the open concept living room, getting into the proper mindset with one of her older favorite Jersey club songs.
Bopping along to the music, she joined Becky where she worked on mixing up a batch of margaritas at the kitchen island, the two of them lost in their own private dance party.
“Hey, Rock, can you go over to the guys' place and see if they have tequila? We’re out.”
Her head snapped up. “You and I are out of tequila?”
Blasphemy.
Tequila was a major food group, along with pizza and mac and cheese—those usually reserved for Coven nights, since most of the guys in their lives needed to follow a strict diet to maintain peak athletic performance.
“It would seem so.”
“Wow, that’s like a crime against nature.”
Becky laughed but couldn’t deny the fact.
“Sure, be right back.”
She let herself into Vince's apartment. The doors to both apartments were rarely locked when they were home—maybe too many Friends reruns?—and everyone came and went as they pleased. She wondered how Gage would feel about it now that he would be living down the hall from all their crazy. She’d been picking up a vibe that he was not about this life. She smiled a little, knowing how little choice he would have in the matter.
Boundaries was not a word in their group’s vocabulary.
“Hey, losers, we need tequila.”
Ray looked up from where he was playing Mario Kart with Nick on the couch. “You two are out of tequila? Isn’t that a crime against nature or something?”
She laughed and offered him a fist bump. “That’s exactly what I said.” She loved Ray. When he first started coming around the gym with Vince during their freshman year at BTU, she instantly took a liking to the Chicago native.
“There should be some Patrón Silver in the bar in the living room,” Deck said as he came out of his bedroom. He was putting his shirt on but paused when he caught sight of her. “Not really sure the pajama look is dress code appropriate, even if they are Ninja Turtles.”