Charlee exhaled. “I don’t know,” she said, dumping her spoon into the container of ice cream. She’d had enough.
“C’mon, Charlee, think. Roughly how many times?”
Charlee knew exactly how many times: four before he’d even come over to sit with them then at least four more times during her game with Walter. Not to mention the way he’d looked at her every time he spoke to her. It was why she’d begun to think maybe there was some interest, especially remembering what Drew had told her about the way she’d caught him staring at her on Saturday. But if Charlee—the most pessimistic person in the world—could let herself become hopeful over a few stares, she knew Drew the hopeless romantic with her unnerving sixth sense that always seemed to be spot on, would go nuts if she told her just how many times, in turn, giving Charlee false hope as well. Something she did not need.
She lifted a shoulder as indifferently as possible. “I don’t know three, four times maybe.”
Drew was on her feet at once. “I knew it!” She punched her fist into her hand, smiling. “We’re going to that fight tonight.”
Charlee’s mouth fell open just as her heart rate took off. She knew she shouldn’t have said anything. Before she could protest, Drew was already talking fast as she paced back and forth as she always did when she was trying to convince Charlee of something, just like she had back home when she convinced her to move out to California with her. This was not good.
“If for no other reason, we’ll do this so I can prove my point.” Drew lifted her palm up in the air when Charlee began to respond: another telltale sign that she wouldn’t be backing down. “This guy has a thing for you. Maybe it’s just an ego thing. Guys like him are not used to girls not showing any interest. Charlee, you go overboard doing just that when you’re nervous, and, obviously, Hector makes you very nervous.” She stopped and smiled. “Besides, this could be fun. Imagine all the other hot boxers we could meet tonight? Not to mention an exclusive party. What else are we gonna do tonight? Sit around drinking wine coolers and talk about the kind of guys we wish we could meet?” Drew danced in place now. “We can’t stay long anyway. We have Long Beach in the morning. We’ll just go for a little while.”
This was true. They both volunteered for the Special Olympics, and tomorrow morning there was a marathon in Long Beach. They had to be there bright and early to help set up. Charlee couldn’t come up with a good enough argument fast enough, and quite honestly it did sound more fun than staying home on a Friday night—again. But the thought of facing Hector so soon terrified her. She was hoping he’d cool off over the weekend. She did the only thing she could and gave Drew her best pleading look.
“Charlee, he’s fighting tonight, and Walter said he was part owner of the gym too. You really think he’s going to have time to hang out with anyone from the chess team?” Drew gave her that evil grin she wore so well. “No offendamundo, but he probably just invited you guys to be nice. I’m sure he won’t be spending too much time around any of you.” She reached out her hand to Charlee and tugged. “Let’s go. We got a party to get ready for.”
With a groan, Charlee stood to her feet. Why did she have to have such a persuasive best friend? If it weren’t for the sudden visual she was having of seeing Hector up close and shirtless in the ring like she’d seen in all the images she Googled-stalked of him, she’d certainly fight this tooth and nail. That and the curiosity of seeing exactly what the tattoo on his chest was about, won out. She could only pray now this, too, didn’t turn into a disaster like yesterday.
Chapter 8
Hector sat in the corner of the ring in between rounds, breathing heavily when they walked in. Charlee had said she wasn’t coming to the fight tonight. Turned down the invitation flat—she had other plans. “Better plans” is probably what she really wanted to say. So for that reason alone, Hector hadn’t expected her to show up, and then after what happened yesterday, he knew there was no way she’d be coming. But seeing Walter and some of the other guys from the chess team arrive together, minus Charlee, somehow still managed to further Hector’s already irritable mood.
He didn’t even understand why her snub bothered him so damn much. Sam thought what she’d done was hilarious. And the fact that Hector had taken it so personally had him laughing louder than Hector had ever heard the old man laugh. Hector didn’t think it was funny at all, but the more he argued the more Sam laughed.
Sam said Hector was ripe for the target, that it was his own fault for not doing going there prepared. She probably saw the lack of significant effort Hector put into the actually study of chess. Hector was too laid back about the whole thing, and Sam said it emanated off him. A serious player would see that right away. When he was finally done laughing, Sam had once again reminded Hector how seriously these players take the game and told him he better learn to respect that.
If it had been Sam in that tournament, he said he would've gone over the game himself that night, working through all the variations until he was sure his play was accurate. Hector hadn’t bothered to until last night. Even then, he still couldn’t figure out how she’d come up with such a clever way to completely blindside him.
Sam also told Hector to get used to it. He was in a different league now. The old man was just too damn pleased that Charlee had done this to Hector. This, of course, only pissed Hector off even further. Get used it? Like hell he would. It was one thing if he thought this had only been some sort of hazing: Charlee’s way of welcoming him into the team with a ribbing. But there was more to it. He’d seen it from that very first day. She’d been nice enough and even smiled at him just the same as before she’d known he was a contender.
Unless she was a total genius, what she’d done must’ve taken her hours to memorize—to perfect. But why? The more he thought about it, the more it pissed him off. What the fuck was her problem anyway?
Then he remembered how close he’d come to kissing her, how badly he’d wanted to, and how quickly his anger had dissipated the moment he’d gotten close enough to smell the sweet scent of her lip gloss on those soft pink lips and the subtle sweet scent of her hair. He’d instantly gone from fuming to fighting the urge to kiss her.
Hector would’ve given anything at that moment yesterday to be able to go back in time and slam A.J and Theo’s faces into the lockers a few times in high school. If he had, he would’ve been able to live with the guilt of kissing Charlee in front of Walter. It was the only thing that had stopped him yesterday.
After he’d finally made some major progress in alleviating his damn guilty conscience, Hector wasn’t about to take a giant leap backwards. Even feeling as bad as he’d felt all this time about not sticking up for Walter in high school, he was now certain if Walter hadn’t shown up at the gym Wednesday night he would’ve gone for a taste of Charlee’s lips anyway. Not only was the guilt still alive and well but Walter was beginning to feel like a real friend now. He’d gotten to know Walter a little better, and as big a goofball as the guy was, he was actually a really nice guy with a giant heart.
On top of being a full-time student and all the time he put into both the school and the U.S chess teams, Walter also volunteered several days out of the week at the convalescent home where his grandfather lived. He said there were a couple of old guys down there he played chess with regularly; he even invited Hector to down there with him sometime. Walter told him he’d be surprised how good it would make him feel to make someone’s day just by spending a little time with them. Hector didn’t doubt it one bit because he’d felt good seeing the hope in Walter’s face when Hector assured him he could help him get in shape. Remembering what a nice guy Walt was yesterday when Hector had been so close to kissing Charlee was bad enough.
But worst of all, Hector now knew just how bad Walter had it for Charlee. Walter had told him all about it as Hector worked him out. This was going to be tough, but the fact of the matter was Hector could have just about any girl he wanted. It was only fair. If he wanted to do the right
thing by Walter, this time he’d have to stay away from the only girl that would mean betraying his new friend.
“What the hell are you doing?” Abel asked from the side of the ring.
“I got this,” Gio said as he applied the Vaseline over Hector’s brows.
“Yeah, he’s okay.” Noah said, squirting water into Hector’s mouth. “He still has a few rounds left. He just has to win them.”
“Are you kidding me?” Abel glared at Noah then turned back to Hector. “Listen to me, Hector. You need to get your head out of your ass and knock this guy out. If this thing goes to judges, you’d be lucky if they call it a draw. Guzman took those first three rounds, and if you keep fighting like that, you’re gonna lose the whole damn thing.”
Gio, who was his actual trainer, started in on him with what he’d done wrong in the last round and what he needed to do in the next. “Use your speed, man. What’s wrong with you? You’re way faster than this guy. Guzman ain’t got shit on your speed.”
Hector closed his eyes but only for a moment because in the next one the bell rang. “Drop him, Hector,” Abel said even louder. “Stop wasting time.”
Jumping in place now as he waited for the go-ahead from the ref, he eyed Guzman. Gio was right. Hector was way faster than this guy. He’d watched film of the guy’s previous fights and was pretty sure he had his weaknesses down.
The ref gave the go-ahead, and both he and Guzman took a few steps toward each other.
“Pick ’em up, Hector!” Gio yelled.
Hector lifted his gloves a few inches to shield his face. Gio must not have watched as much film on this guy as Hector had. Guzman went for the body way more often than the face.
Even thinking about watching film on his opponent brought back thoughts of Charlee and how closely she must’ve studied his game. Her words came back to him just then. “I didn’t mean anything personal by it.” Bullshit!
Hector landed a hard hit to Guzman’s eye, splitting the skin just under it and prompting to the crowd to jump to its feet going wild. As much as they all tried to assure the fighters that signed up for bouts here that they’d be on neutral ground, fighting in your own gym inevitably made you the favorite.
Just like Hector’s weak spot, his right eyebrow that had been split enough times that now any good hit to it would have it split and bleeding, this was Guzman’s weak spot. Every one of the fights the guy had been in, where it had been stopped because of an injury, it had been because of that gash.
Before Guzman could recover, Hector landed another fast one on that same eye. Maybe it did pay to study your opponent so closely.
Feeling his insides heat just as they had yesterday when he’d realized what Charlee had done, he landed another then an even faster and harder one. If it weren’t for the ropes, Guzman would’ve gone down. The crowd was going wild, chanting and jumping up and down. Hector couldn’t help thinking this was probably what the rest of his chess teammates must’ve been feeling inwardly as they watched Charlee take him down.
Clenching his teeth so hard he thought he might bite through his mouthpiece, Hector went in for the kill. Check-motherfucking-mate!
The last jab was so hard it sent Guzman crashing onto the floor. The ref jumped in between them, pushing Hector toward his corner, and started the countdown.
Guzman wasn’t getting up. This was a done deal.
“Hell yeah, Hector! Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Gio pulled the mouthpiece out of Hector’s mouth and Noah began squirting water into it.
Hector gulped the water as he tried to catch his breath and glanced around the loud and crazed crowd. He nearly choked when he saw it. It stood out like a flame in the sea of dark hair and pumping fists—Charlee’s red flowing hair. Hector coughed uncontrollably as the water Noah had squirted in his mouth went down the wrong pipe.
“You okay?” Noah asked, offering more water.
Hector pushed it away. What the hell was she doing here? Glancing back at Noah and pushing the water away, he continued to cough. Gio patted him on the back as his coughing slowly calmed and he began breathing easier.
He dare not look back in her direction. Not only had she shown up but that hair wasn’t up in a ponytail like he’d only seen it up until now. She wore it down now. That ponytail she usually had it in was so damn high he never imagined her hair would be this long.
Swallowing hard as Noah wiped his face down, he turned around to face the ref. The ref, who stood next to a still very dazed looking Guzman with his eye nearly swollen shut, now motioned for him to come over. Hector hardly heard a word of what the ref said, but once everyone started cheering, he knew he’d been announced the winner by way of knockout.
Lifting his glove up at the cheering spectators and not looking her way was a challenge, but he managed to get through it. He was already out of the ring and making his way through the crowd. The real challenge would start now—staying away from her all night.
What a pisser. Here he thought he’d unwind tonight and let some of the tension out that had built over the past twenty-four hours. He’d looked forward to throwing a few beers back with the guys. Having any alcohol now was not a good idea. He might do something bad and tell her little condescending ass off or worse: he might just be tempted to finish what he started yesterday.
~*~
They’d been there over an hour now, and still the only glimpse she’d had of Hector was when he’d been in the ring. Charlee cursed herself for not having worn higher wedges. When he’d walked through the crowd, she’d barely been able to see him with all the people in front of her. She so badly wanted a closer look at that tattoo.
Drew had been so excited as they walked into the banquet room where the exclusive party was being held. She said she’d never felt so special when everyone else had to leave and they, along with an elite few others, were led into the back of the gym and down a hallway where the banquet room was located. Charlee, on the other hand, had never felt so nauseous.
When she thought of coming to a party where Hector would be, she pictured lots of people. Even though it was exclusive, she still thought there would be crowds like the one at the fight that she could hide behind and become invisible—be in her comfort zone. This crowd so far consisted of about forty people, not nearly enough for her to get lost in.
Unable to hide what she was feeling, Drew had noticed Charlee’s discomfort and insisted she have a glass of wine to help her relax. She was on her second glass now, and while it did help, the knot in her stomach was still there.
“Where do you think he could be?” Drew leaned in and whispered.
Charlee shook her head with a shrug. Wherever he was, Charlee only wished he would get there already. He couldn’t be far, and the anxiety was only building with every minute that passed. She wanted that first look—glare—whatever she may get from him tonight out of the way.
In the meantime, Charlee had obsessively watched his brother, Abel. Walter had pointed him out, though it hadn’t really been necessary. The moment Charlee had spotted him before Walter said anything, she knew who he was. Not only had she already shamelessly Google-stalked him but she even watched some of his fights on YouTube, more for the possibility of seeing Hector in the audience than anything else. Even in a suit and tie, everything about Abel said heavyweight contender. He was big, built like a truck and annoyingly as good-looking as Hector, only in a manlier way. Not that Hector didn’t have the manly thing going on, but, obviously, his brother had a few years on him.
Another thing they had in common was the women’s reaction to them. They zeroed in, made their move, and then clung to them, just as those girls had Saturday night with Hector. The entire time Charlee had been standing there with the rest of the handful of people from her chess club, she’d watched as these scantily dressed women behaved outrageously eager and disposed.
Unlike Hector, Abel was far more discreet about his response to them. Although these women made it blatantly obvious that he had the go-ahead to
fondle them if he so wished to by the way they rubbed up against him when they greeted him, other than the polite hug he responded with, he kept his hands to himself. Hector had been a much more willing participant with those two girls Saturday night.
“I guess now we know what kept him so long,” Drew whispered.
Charlee turned her attention from Abel’s group to the banquet room door where Drew’s annoyed glare was focused. She only hoped Drew hadn’t heard the tiny gasp that escaped her as she took in the sight of Hector. Even under what appeared to be layers of clothes, a dark suit complete with coat and vest over a dress shirt and tie, there was no hiding his impressive build.
Swallowing hard, she also took in the two girls on either side of him, walking in with him: the same two girls from Saturday night. Apparently, he hadn’t had enough. Both girls looked just as pleased as they had Saturday. Charlee could only wonder if that look of content on their faces meant they’d kept him nice and busy all this time.
“Stop staring,” Drew whispered.
Charlee quickly glanced away. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring so hard. Her eyes were on his brother’s group again. They had also seen Hector and were now smiling in his direction. Some of the guys’ big smiles were no doubt an approval of Hector’s grand entrance with two girls at his side. The only one that didn’t smile as big was Abel. In fact, if she had to guess, he appeared a bit annoyed. Charlee had to wonder, after watching Abel’s reserved interest in the women vying so hard for his undivided attention, if it was expected of Hector to behave this way too.
Though Hector didn’t hold either of the girls’ hands this time like he had in the parking lot last weekend, the two girls’ body language spoke volumes. They were there with him and would undoubtedly leave with him too.
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