King of the Friend Zone (Power of the Matchmaker)

by Pratt, Sheralyn

  Kenny shook his head and laughed, looking Hunter up and down this time. “So you’re what my last chance looks like? I was expecting someone older and bald with a bit of a belly.”

  “Expecting? Or hoping for, because in your mind that’s someone you can beat?”

  “Whatever,” Kenny snapped. “I can beat you just as easily.”

  “You talk a lot.”

  “So let’s stop talking,” the kid challenged.

  “Not yet,” Hunter said. “There are a few ground rules I need to lay out before you do your best to punch me.”

  “I’m going to lay you out,” Kenny sneered. “I’ve knocked out men bigger than you before.”

  “Uh-huh. And was that coming at them from the front, or from behind?”

  The way the kid flinched gave Hunter his answer. From behind. This kid didn’t like a fair fight; he only postured like he did. “However I want!”

  Uh-huh.

  Hunter watched the teen for a moment, noting the rigid bite of his jaw and his half-clenched fists. The kid’s eyes narrowed as if trying to get a read on Hunter’s angle in this whole conversation. Well, good luck to him. Hunter was still trying to figure out how he was going to approach working with this kid. Everyone was a little different. There was no cut-and-dry way to teach someone to box—especially someone who might misuse the knowledge he was being taught.

  “Let me guess, anger management issues,” Hunter began. “You like to hit things.”

  “Yeah,” the kid sneered. “And I’m about five seconds from—”

  “Stop there,” Hunter said dismissively. “Look at me, man. I outweigh you by forty pounds and I’ve been fighting longer than you’ve been alive. Save the posturing. It’s embarrassing.”

  Kenny stepped forward. “Why? I’m a kid. You can’t hurt me.”

  Hunter smiled. “This is a boxing gym. I can punch you silly. So can anyone here. And if you think you’re the only one here with anger management issues, think again.” He gestured around the gym. “You’re going to learn to treat this place as a temple, because it’s the one place you’ll be able to come to unleash all the anger no one deserves from you.”

  The kid blinked, still looking defiant.

  “You think punching people makes you tough?” Hunter asked, keeping his tone light. “You think it makes you strong?”

  The kid’s chin raised up. Yes. He definitely thought that.

  “It doesn’t,” Hunter said matter-of-factly. “It only makes you out of control. Undisciplined. Using violence to solve your problems—the thing that almost certainly landed you here—only proves that you are scared and weak. That’s why, when you look around this room, you see men carved of wood. There isn’t a single man in this room who couldn’t wipe the floor with you, and they know it. And because they know their power, they tread lightly in the real world and only fight people who consent to be hit within these walls. That’s what strong men do, and that’s why Miss Weekes brought you here. To see if you have it in you to play by a basic set of rules.”

  Hunter was still getting nothing but glares from the teen when he pointed toward the hand wraps and gloves Shauna had bought for him. “Now glove up. We’ll talk rules while you do and then you can have your shot at me.”

  The muscles around the kid’s nose flexed, pulling his mouth up into a snarl. “If you’re so confident, why don’t we go bare fists?”

  “Because this is a boxing gym,” Hunter said calmly. “And, like I said, we have basic rules—although we both know you don’t think rules apply to you yet, right?”

  “I’m just saying that if you’re so confident—”

  “Nuh-uh,” Hunter said, forcing the kid back until his back was pressed into the boxing ring. “Let me tell you how this is going to go. We’re going to run drills, and we’re not going to stop until you’re crying like a frustrated baby. Then you’re going to go home and fantasize about killing me. Then you’re going to come back Thursday and actually try to kill me. We’re going to rinse and repeat this pattern until you figure out on your own that your way of dealing with problems only works when you’re dealing with children smaller than you and people who love you so much that they’re willing to take your hits in hopes that accepting your harm somehow miraculously helps you.” Hunter gestured to the men all around them. “But you won’t find anyone like that at this gym, do you understand me? This isn’t a place for the weak. So if you give up and stop training, you’d better own up to the fact that it’s because you can’t hang with real men. Any questions?”

  Hunter could see emotions warring behind the kid’s eyes. He’d heard half of Hunter’s words…maybe. What was more important was that Hunter could see a baseline of fear indicating that this kid had definitely been punched around by someone bigger in his days. The teen’s violence was a learned behavior, not inborn, and that was something Hunter could work with.

  Even as he watched, something in the teen’s eyes switched. “You’d better get out of my face, man, or I’m going to tell everyone you’re hitting on me.”

  Hunter leaned forward, getting even more in the guy’s face. “Yeah? Good luck with that.”

  The kid’s eyes narrowed competitively as he turned his head and yelled as loud as he could, and with impressive feigned distress, “Help! This man is threatening me!”

  Only a few gym members looked over at the cry, all of them shaking their heads and going back to their workouts after a quick glance.

  Hunter smiled. “You see? We know your type here, which is why we have rules. Rule #1? No one under 18 in the men’s locker room. You’ll change—alone—in the guest bathroom and shower when you get home.”

  Oh, the kid definitely wasn’t a fan of that rule.

  “Rule #2?” Hunter continued. “You and I will never be alone. Ever. Everything that ever happens between us happens in full view of anyone in this room and only during business hours. That’s why I will never walk to my car alone on nights when you’re here, and all contact will be made through your social worker. Because you’re not the first kid to ever be abused, and you’re not the first kid to cry wolf either.”

  Fear replaced anger in the boy’s eyes, but only for a moment before he doubled-down back into anger. The kid’s jaw was clenching so hard that a vein on the side of his head was popping.

  Good. That meant he was processing at least some of what he was hearing.

  “Rules protect you from me in this space,” Hunter said, keeping his voice neutral. “The rules here also protect me from you. Yes, rules can suck, but they are designed to protect. They can protect you. You don’t believe that now, but you’ll figure it out as you kick and scream and realize no one here is going to treat you like a toddler and give you a binky every time you bawl for it. You’re not the only one here who’s been where you’ve been, and these men here can smell a lie from a mile away.” Hunter pointed to the hand wraps again. “Now get ready. Let’s find out how long it takes to make you cry when faced with someone you can’t beat.”

  Chapter 13

  Jon couldn’t have looked more suave in his tailored black suit as he leaned against the bathroom and watched Esme apply finishing touches on her makeup. When she spotted a sly smile on his lips, she sent him a look.

  “What?”

  His grin broadened. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “I know, but you have a look on your face that is definitely saying something.”

  Jon sent her a helpless shrug, his eyes caressing her face. “I like watching you get ready.”

  Esme laughed. “Is that code for you’re making the best of the fact that I’m making us late?”

  “It’s a fund raiser,” he said dismissively. “They only care about money. We can show up whenever…” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Or not.”

  Esme grinned as she touched up her lip gloss. “Oh, we’re going. There are about a dozen people I’m looking forward to finally meeting, like your business partner, Abraham. You talk about him so much, but I haven
’t even seen a picture. I’m beginning to think he’s a myth.”

  “Unfortunately, tonight’s not going to help with that. Something came up and he won’t be able to make it.”

  Esme capped her lip gloss. “What? Seriously?”

  Jon nodded. “Seriously. At this point, I think you should start to take his avoidance personally.”

  Esme sent him a playful scowl in the mirror. “Yeah? What are you saying behind my back to make him avoid me?”

  Jon stepped forward. “That you’re perfect and if he even tries to steal you away, I will hunt him down and end him.”

  “Hmm,” Esme mused as Jon moved in until she could feel the heat of his body. “You think my head is turned that easily?”

  He tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes. “I turned your head that easily.”

  “You have a point,” she teased as he leaned in for a light kiss. “Then again, you are a bit of a special case.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  He smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

  Their next kiss was a little bit more involved but Esme ended it before it could ruin her lip gloss. “Ready to go?”

  Jon laughed. “Am I ready? I was ready when I showed up fifteen minutes ago.”

  Esme smiled up at him. “And did I mention you look incredibly handsome?”

  “I think that’s the first you’ve mentioned it,” he teased, eyeing her lips again.

  “Well, it’s the truth.”

  “And you, my dear,” he said, dropping a whisper of a kiss to her lips, “are a true natural beauty.”

  Chapter 14

  EZ

  Ez:

  I think there are

  about 50 single

  women at the fund

  raiser I’m at right

  now.

  Hunter:

  And you’re messaging

  me because you have

  a spare ticket?

  Ez:

  Actually…

  Jon has two spares.

  They’re all yours if

  you bring Luke. That

  guy needs to get out

  more.

  Hunter:

  I’ll float the idea.

  Ez:

  Tell him you need a

  wingman.

  Hunter:

  I do NOT need a

  wingman.

  Ez:

  Pretend or he’ll

  never come.

  Hunter:

  He wants to see

  a pic of the ladies

  on the scene.

  Ez:

  He doesn’t trust me?

  Hunter:

  Apparently not…

  He is currently

  referencing the Blind

  Date of 2013.

  Ez:

  OMG. He needs to

  get over that. I

  PROMISE she was

  fully normal when

  I met her at book club.

  Hunter:

  Most serial killers

  appear normal…

  at first.

  Ez:

  Well, there has to be

  at least one normal

  girl here. They’re all

  beautiful.

  Hunter:

  Just the way I like

  them.

  Ez:

  Duh.

  I’ll put the tix in your

  name up at the front.

  Hurry, while the pickings

  are still good ;)

  Chapter 15

  Hunter owned exactly one suit. Esme had shown up at his apartment one day a few years ago, suit in hand, and told him he needed it. Where she had gotten the black, classic-cut Armani suit, Hunter had no idea, but he’d kept it even though he could count on one hand how many times he’d worn it. Yet as he walked into the fund raiser in the threads, he let out a sigh of relief that he actually looked like he fit in.

  Next to him, Luke was rocking his own personal style. The guy was kind of a girl when it came to clothes. Luke might wear jeans and a random tee while on a work site, but in the off hours, he fancied himself a male model—or at least he liked people to confuse him for one.

  Still, for once, Hunter didn’t look like a slob next to his friend. He knew he didn’t, because as he looked over the room of eligible bachelorettes in formal gowns, a lot of them were looking back at him, specifically. When a tall brunette with extremely fake boobs held his gaze for several seconds, Hunter sent her a small smile. She smiled back.

  “This is a mistake,” Luke said under his breath.

  “Meeting hot girls?”

  Luke shook his head. “Free alcohol and Jon in the same space. We should go.”

  Hunter rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen, man. Don’t make it weird.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to. That’s your wheelhouse.”

  “I got this.”

  “Yeah?” Luke said, still not stepping into the room. “Like you had it together at the party Esme’s parents threw?”

  “That was Jon being weird. Not me.”

  “Exactly,” Luke said. “He was in your comfort zone and he still came at you.” Luke gestured to the room. “This is his zone. The man will be peacocking.”

  “So we avoid him,” Hunter said easily, confused when Luke laughed. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing, what?”

  Luke checked his watch. “I just remember when I was as naïve as you.”

  “Naïve?” Hunter laughed. “You hang around Kade and Ali all the time. How is this different?”

  Luke continued to survey the room with an expert eye. “The difference is that I always have a doting girl on my arm when I’m with Ali.”

  Hunter shook his head. “A fake doting girl.”

  Luke shrugged. “It’s safer. Actual dates are way too unpredictable, and they’ll likely see how you look at Esme and figure things out at times and places not of your choosing. Better to go for the win-win with all the parties knowing what’s up. Maybe you help a girl get her ex to rethink a breakup, or you spend a few weeks with her to help get her family off her back about not dating. Doesn’t really matter so long as you are both cool with the terms of your ‘dating’ relationship and are comfortable playing the part.”

  “Dude,” Hunter said. “That is so messed up.”

  “And this isn’t?” Luke asked, brow arched.

  “Picking up girls?” Hunter laughed. “Hardly.”

  Luke shook his head. “Flirting with girls while hoping Esme watches and gets a little jealous? You’re going on three decades of that tactic not working and just courting trouble, dude.”

  “No, I’m showing Jon that I’m into other girls.”

  “That’s why the first thing you did when we walked in was find Esme in the crowd, right?”

  Hunter couldn’t deny the accusation, and there was no reason to with Luke. Yes, his eyes had searched the room for Esme the moment they crossed the threshold. And yes, he had found her in 0.2 seconds. She was off at his eleven o’clock wearing a blue gown Hunter had never seen before. She looked stunning, but Hunter hadn’t looked other than to spot her. He distinctly hadn’t looked-looked. He’d simply spotted her as part of getting his bearings, then moved on. He was certain no one noticed besides Luke, so there was no reason to talk about it.

  “Habit,” Hunter said with a dismissive shrug.

  “Uh-huh,” Luke drawled. “That’s the kind of thing a fiancé notices, Hunter. Rookie mistake. I’m telling you, you can’t get away with that anymore.”

  Hunter made it a point to look back at the brunette who’d caught his eye when he first walked in. She smiled. Hunter smiled back. Again. “Thanks for the tip, Third-Wheel Yoda.”

  When Hunter started to step forward, Luke gripped his arm. “We can always abort, man.”

  “Or,” Hunter countered, “we could go out there and find you a nice girl.”

  Luke’s jaw clenched and a
shadow crossed over his eyes before he swallowed and nodded. “Sure. I’ll see if any of these ladies are into a construction guy.”

  Hunter laughed at that. “I think most of them are more into reconstruction guys, but I’m guessing you’ll turn more heads with real estate than I will as a fireman.”

  “I dunno. Chicks always seem down with the fireman thing.”

  “Yeah,” Hunter said, moving into the room. “But women like this usually prefer us on calendars or moving in and out of their back doors. I promise none of the ladies here got dressed tonight hoping to land a fireman.”

  “Touché,” Luke said, his eyes glancing Esme’s direction. “We have incoming.”

  Hunter didn’t even need to ask. He could see who it was in Luke’s eyes.

  “I hug her first,” Luke said softly before stepping forward and flashing the smile he always brought out for awkward occasions. “Esme!”

  “Luke,” Esme said from behind Hunter and he waited to turn until Luke held out his arms and pulled her into a hug. Seeing Esme’s much-smaller figure engulfed in Luke’s arms had Hunter’s stomach turning a bit, as always. And, as always, he blew it off before sending Jon a quick nod of acknowledgment as the man stepped behind Esme and placed a territorial hand on the small of her back.

  There was no nod in return.

  “Thanks for the tickets,” Luke said, pulling away and smiling down at Esme. “It’s good to leave work every so often.”

  “Of course,” Esme said in that effortless way of hers, before angling her body toward her fiancé. “Luke, this is my fiancé, Jon. Jon, this was my date to junior prom and one of my best friends, Luke.”

  Hunter watched Jon do the mental math to determine whether or not Esme and Luke had ever kissed and appear to come up with the correct response. They had.

  Still, Jon held his hand out to Luke and offered a shake. “Luke. Good to meet you.”

  “You, too,” Luke said easily before glancing Esme’s way. “You know you’ve got a winner here, right?”