Love Tap

by M. N. Forgy

  “What?” Thomas crouches down. Peering up under my lashes I say louder. “I didn’t tap out!” My arms feel like Jello to the point I fall to the mat. Its coolness welcoming me with open arms. “You have to train me now.”

  Cate laughs loud, as she raises her arms up in the air in victory.

  “You made the deal, you lost buddy!” Cate points at him.

  “Jesus Christ.” Thomas stands straight, his hands on his hips as he glares down at me.

  “I didn’t tap out,” I whisper proudly.

  ***

  Pulling myself up off the floor, my body aches from the amount of effort it takes. My chest constricts as I frantically look around the gym for Camden. Not seeing him anywhere, I quickly slip out of the ring, pull my gloves off, and spit the guard onto the floor. I gotta get out of here.

  I can’t see him. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. Turning to grab my bag I run into a wall of pure muscle, the familiar smell hitting home.

  Camden.

  He smells just like he used to when he was eighteen. Clean and spicy.

  My chest trembles as I slowly look up from under my lashes. “Cam-Camden?” I stammer as a shiver runs up my back. The unsettling warmth on my face causes me to sweat, as my heart pounds against my chest with a wave of nerves.

  His brows are pulled together with hate, and his blue eyes are cold and unfriendly. He folds his thick arms across his chest, making his dark shirt strain against his biceps.

  I look away, digging my nails into the palm of my hand.

  The TV has nothing on what the real Camden Steel looks like. He’s his own person. I can’t help but stare back at him. Sharp around the edges, but beautiful. He has small scars that show his pain, and power dusting around his thick eyebrows and cheek bones.

  “Why are you here?” His words are bitter, cutting into me.

  Looking at the ground I avert my eyes from his. His intense stare too much.

  “I um—” I practiced over and over in my head what I would say to Camden if I ever ran into him again. Had it down pat. I would explain why I left him behind, he’d get angry, I’d get angry, and then I’d say something really smart before storming off. He would then chase me, whip me around and kiss me so hard that everything that ever happened would be forgotten. Only… I can’t seem to think of a single thing to say now.

  So, I run. I push past him, and run to my car.

  Out of the building and nearing my car I feel my eyes prick with the urge to cry.

  “Why are you here, Tate?” My name used to come out of his mouth in a way that made my toes curl, now… it’s as if I’m a disease. “TATE!”

  I stop. Using my free hand I wipe the one tear that managed to escape. Maybe this is the part he says he’s missed me, and pulls me into an embrace and kisses me.

  Turning I look into the distance. “I’m here because I want my family back and I want to be a professional fighter. I- I didn’t know this was your gym though.”

  Unpleased with my answer, he scoffs, widening his stance. His face is more defined, and covered in a five o’clock shadow. He’s not a boy anymore, he’s a man. He licks his bottom lip before raking it in with his teeth. I used to kiss those lips. Moaned unintelligible things against them while he loved me.

  I didn’t realize how much I missed him, not until now.

  “Do yourself a favor, and just go back to wherever it was you came from.”

  Anger flushes through my system and my mouth falls open. This is not going the way my dreams had planned out.

  “Seriously, after all these years that is the first thing you wanted to say to me?”

  He rubs at his chin before hitting me with those cold blue eyes.

  “Trust me Tate, the first thing I was going to say wasn’t near as nice as that.” He turns, his back just as toned and chiseled as his front.

  “Say it, say what you were going to say,” I push.

  Shaking his head, he thumbs the sweat pants on his narrow hips.

  “It doesn’t matter… Because you don’t matter, not anymore.”

  I gasp at his harsh tone. Ouch. Tears unleash so fast I can’t stop them. Not this time.

  “Fucking prick,” I grumble under my breath as I head toward my car.

  “What was that?” he asks arrogantly, but I don’t look behind me. If I do, I might punch him in the mouth.

  “I said, FUCKING PRICK!” I tug my door open, throw my bag in and jump in. Silently praising myself for finding words that were buried deep inside of me.

  Slamming my door shut, I glare at him as I start the car.

  I quickly peel out of the parking lot without looking back.

  My nostrils flare, and knuckles turning white as I strangle the steering wheel.

  Who the hell was that? That wasn’t the Camden I remember. Not at all.

  I’m going to kill Fiona when I see her.

  Camden

  Standing in a cloud of dust I watch as Tate drives away. Again. My heart is beating against my chest hard, my stomach twisted in knots. I thought my longing for Tate grew into hate these past years. That was until I just saw her. I miss her and hate her. I wanted to grab her and pull her into me, but I also wanted to pull her by the fucking hair out of my gym.

  I never thought I’d see her again, but I envisioned it.

  It pretty much went how I planned. Pissing her off.

  I wanted her to hurt as much as I did when she up and left in the middle of the night four fucking years ago.

  She promised to call me everyday, that we’d see each other every weekend. None of that happened.

  She’s a fucking liar.

  The most beautiful ones are though. They’re like flowers. Gorgeous on the outside, but once you get close, you find out they’re just as poisonous.

  “Who was that?” I turn finding Chase standing there with an amused grin on his face. His dark long hair wet as if he’d just showered. How long had he been standing there?

  “Nobody,” I respond flatly.

  “Oh that was somebody, and when I say that I mean that was some body. Fuck she’s sexy!“

  “Stop while you’re ahead.” I hold my hand up, glowering at him. Inside my chest my heart beats wildly with a jealous urge. I could beat on my chest and roar right now. Which is fucking stupid, because Tate is not mine. She made that very clear.

  “She yours?” He walks backwards stepping into the gym.

  Lowering my head, I close my eyes trying to calm my racing heart. Chase is a different kind of man, he’s one that is unstable, and laced with a violent nature. I’m no saint, but the difference is I’m aware of my transgressions, he thinks he’s completely normal. He’s been training for a couple years now. No trainer will put him in a ring after seeing his true colors in practice. He’s a bloodbath waiting to happen.

  “No, just … stay away from her,” I whisper.

  Looking out of the corner of my eye I find him staring at me oddly.

  “We still on for Big Pete’s tonight?” He changes the subject. I give a silent nod. The guy has his issues, but he’s relentless when it comes to wanting to hang out.

  “Camden! You set up that fight that the MFC was offering?“ Thomas asks with a hopeful grin on his face.

  “No.” Thomas and Kaley are always planning shit behind my back. When will they get it in their heads I’m not going back into the ring?

  “Son, seriously, how long are we going to do this for? You gotta get back in the ring, it’s your calling. Just like coaching is mine.” Thomas runs his hands through his hair aggravated.

  “What did that girl want?” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder.

  He rolls his eyes.

  “Wants me to train her, I told her no but before I knew it I was in a bet with her that she’d tap out.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t tap out surprisingly, she’s a tough lil’ Gal.” He shakes his head again, looking at the front door as if she is still here. I can’t have Tate in my gym, I can’t have her here.

 
; “You are not training her.” I raise my brows ready to go head to head with him on this.

  “Hey, a bet’s a bet man,” Cate cuts in, her hands on her hips.

  “I don’t give a shit about a bet. You’re my trainer Thomas, we have a contract and you training anyone else is breaking that.”

  “Well, then I suggest you figure something else out because you made a fucking bet!” Cate’s face turns bright red, as she steps up to me. Cate is the nutritionist around here, and she’s great at what she does but she is a little headstrong sometimes. Especially when it comes to women doing what men can do.

  “Why do you even care?” I shrug.

  “Because, you guys have it your tiny little heads, and I’m not talking about the one on your shoulders, that you are so much more mighty than women. That girl,” she points at the front door, “she’s the next big thing, mark my words,” Cate states. I only saw part of the fight, but it doesn’t surprise me that Tate is good at fighting. It was what she always wanted to do.

  “I’ll figure something out, keep your skirt on.” Thomas holds both his hands up in surrender.

  “See, it’s that kind of shit right there Thomas.” Cate points at Thomas.

  “I’m going to go get taped up, meet me in the ring in ten. I need to hit something,” I inform Thomas. I gotta get this frustration out, and now.

  “Motivated, I like it!” Thomas grins.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  Chapter Four

  9 Years Old

  Camden

  Biting on my inner cheek I look around the backyard. There’s red and blue balloons, a cake with two fighters on it, and a few presents.

  “Damn it!” My mother’s voice echoes with a hint of frustration. I bet I left my bowl of cereal on the counter again, and she knocked it over.

  Furrowing my brows I head toward the back door leading into our kitchen.

  “What’s wrong Mom?”

  She digs in her purse with pursed lips.

  “I could have sworn I bought candles, but I can’t find them. Have you seen them?” She looks at me briefly before lifting various items off the counter to look under them.

  “No.” I start helping her look.

  “I’ll go buy some more babe,” Dad states, grabbing the keys off the microwave.

  Mom runs her hands through her hair and exhales.

  “Just candles, Andrew.” She points her finger at him. “Hurry, guests will begin to show up soon.”

  “Candles. Got it.” He smiles, ruffling the hair on my head. “Be back soon champ.”

  Mom nibbles on her bottom lip just as the doorbell rings.

  “Go see who that is, will ya?” Mom asks, wrinkles forming on her forehead.

  Nodding, I dart to the front door. I wonder if it’s Bret. He’s the coolest kid in school, and he promised he show up.

  Opening the front door, I find Tatum and her family.

  “Hey Camden, happy birthday!” Journey’s face beams with excitement. She’s wearing a long flowery dress with a ridiculous yellow bow in her hair. Why do girls wear that crap?

  “Hey.” I give a weak attempt at a wave. Sliding my gaze from Journey, I catch Tate rolling her eyes at me. She’s so different from any girl I’ve ever met. She’s wearing a black shirt with a faded boxing glove on it, followed by red frayed shorts.

  Tatum’s mother, Marlow, clears her throat. Realizing I’ve been staring at Tatum longer than I intended I hold the front door open.

  “Come in.”

  “Here.” Tatum shoves a small wrapped box into my chest hard.

  “Umph!” A cough erupts from my chest from the hard thrust.

  I glare at her as she passes. Her mother gives her a tap upside the head.

  “Act like a lady,” Marlow hisses.

  Fifteen minutes later everyone has arrived, and Mom is pacing the kitchen to the point I’m sure she’s worn a path into the floor. Dad hasn’t come back and isn’t answering his phone. Most people would be scared to death that something bad had happened to their father, but I? I know he’s fallen off the wagon again.

  He drinks. A lot. Mom has had a close eye on him, trying to get him to quit the last week. Now that he is out of her sight… he’s probably sitting in front of a liquor store drinking his way to the bottom of a bottle.

  “You like to fight?” Bret adjusts his ball cap as he observes my cake.

  “Yeah, Mom hates it though.” My mom says that is why we moved here, because I got into too many fights at school. I know that’s a lie though. We left because my dad did something with someone at work. Something that had my mom in a fury. They never would tell me what though.

  “I like to fight too, got kicked out twice last year. Though one was for a fight, the other was because of this.” He lifts his shirt, showing a sheathed knife. My eyes widen.

  “Whoa, that’s cool.” I’ve never held a knife before, but just looking at Bret’s secure in a leather holster… it makes me want one.

  “Yeah, I don’t need it though. I can hit pretty hard with my hands.” His tone is confident, and I can’t help but want to challenge him.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty strong too,” my tone antagonizing.

  “Oh yeah? How about we arm wrestle then?” Bret pulls the sleeve of his shirt up and hunches down on one knee, resting an elbow on the table.

  I smile, if I beat him… I’ll be the coolest kid in school.

  “You’re on!” I take a knee, and palm his large hand.

  “If I win, I get your slice of the cake.” He grins confidently.

  “If I win, I get yours,” I counter, squeezing his hand.

  He starts without counting, catching me off guard. Gritting my teeth, scrunching my nose, I push with all my might.

  Breathing through my nose I start to make progress, pushing his arm to the other side. His brown eyes flick to mine with worry, just as I take his hand to the table.

  I jump up, arms raised in the air in victory.

  “Yeah. Yeah. My arm is weak. I had baseball practice today,” he defends.

  “Whatever. I won and you know it.” I start to get angry. How dare he act like he just let me win. I won and he knows it. I look around me to see if anyone saw me take him down. But everyone is looking anywhere but at me.

  He rolls his eyes and turns around. Dang it!

  “Hey Camden!” Felicia calls my name catching my attention. Turning toward her, she waves with a stupid smile. She’s wearing a tight purple dress, with a ton of makeup on. Some other girls my mom made me invite standing right behind her. Curving my mouth I give a nod. My eyes catch Tatum sitting on the grass. Her legs crossed as she pulls grass from the ground as if she’s bored.

  Felicia snaps her gaze to her, and grimaces. Marching over to Tatum she kicks her in the shoe. “Why are you here? Didn’t you hear? Losers aren’t invited,” Felicia insults.

  Quickly I run to them. Tatum stands, her fists balled.

  “You better take that back before I blacken your eye so bad you won’t need that stupid eyeshadow!” Tatum threatens. I step in between them. “Hey Tatum, want to arm wrestle me for your cake?” Her face goes stoic.

  “What?” She blinks wildly.

  “You heard me,” I reaffirm. “Arm wrestle me. That is unless you’re afraid you’ll lose.”

  Her mouth pops open before her lips form into a thin line. “Fine.”

  Getting situated she palms my hand and a zing surfs through my fingers, up my arm, and right down to my gut. Looking at her, her eyes widen like she felt it too. There is something so different about this girl.

  “Ready?” I act as if I didn’t notice anything.

  Her brows pull together in determination.

  I start out slow, not wanting to break her heart at how strong I really am. Maybe I’ll let her win, that’ll make her day.

  Her strength surprises me so I push harder, the idea of maybe letting her win gone.

  Just as my hand is an inch away from the table, I use both hand
s and push hers to the table. I can’t let a girl beat me!

  “HEY! THAT’S CHEATIN!” Tate’s nose scrunches with anger, as she stands up.

  “You owe me your cake sweetheart.” I shrug with a smug smile.

  Her nose wrinkles, her lips pursed like a sucker fish. Looking down she grabs a random plate, and plows it into my face. Cake fills every crook and cranny of my face.

  My mouth drops, the taste of icing filling my mouth.

  “Tatum Davis!” Her mother puts her hand on her hip, as she eyes Tate with a look of embarrassment.

  “I’m so sorry!” Her dad apologizes for her. I wipe the cake from eyes, and find a smiling Tate. She could care less that she’s in trouble. I can’t help the curve of my lips, the ache behind them as I try and fight the smile creeping through my anger.

  Quickly they usher her out of the backyard, whispering and schooling her the whole time.

  “She’s such a freak. Do you want a napkin?” Felicia asks, crossing her arms.

  “I like her,” I respond, flicking icing off my fingers. I can literally hear the disapproval smoldering off Felicia. There’s no need to look.

  There’s something about Tatum Davis, and I can’t put my finger on what it is. Most girls are pathetic wearing stupid pink stuff, and always wanting to talk about themselves and shopping. But Tatum… she’s different. I want to get to know her.

  Two hours later my father shows up. Drunk.

  I kick a rock as I sit on the front porch listening to them scream at each other.

  Glass breaks and I can’t stand to hear it anymore.

  Sprinting between the houses I spot Tatum sitting on her bed. The window to her room open. Our houses are so close together I often see her in her room. She’s always on her bed, reading something. She caught me looking once and I ducked as quickly as I could. I know she saw me though.

  Getting a closer look inside she’s reading some kind of boxing magazine.

  “What ya reading?” I intrude, resting my arms on the ledge of her window. Her head darts up, her blonde hair falling in her face.

  “Here to spy on me again?” her words sharp.

  A scream sounds from behind me with a loud bang. I don’t look behind me, but Tatum’s face goes blank.