Jasmine was out there today, her and all the guys from the gym. There were people in the crowd from his neighborhood, who’d stopped to ask if he was the Tyler that was fighting in the tournament coming up. These guys knew boxing from the old days, from growing up like he had, fighting anyone and everyone. And as soon as he went out there and started to lose, they were going to know he was a fraud and there was going to be pity in their eyes every time they saw him afterward.
He was shaking. He wanted to grab his bag and run. Better to be a coward and have them believe he could have won, after all, than have them see him lose. Everyone was out there. His old coach was out there, even—but for the other guy.
Drake. Tyler shook his head. The kid had kept training. Tyler supposed he had kept training, too, honing his eyes to see new techniques and working his body to the limit every day before class and after class. He’d spent his mornings running down the familiar roads and lifting weights in his tiny living room, but surely that wasn’t the same.
Unless…well, maybe it was.
You’ve lost before, and it didn’t kill you.
So what if they all thought he had lost it? He stood up, bouncing on the balls of his feet to loosen the muscles. So some of them expected him to win. Hell, some of them probably did hate him. But this time, he wasn’t here for any of them. He was here because he found a pure, unmatched beauty in the art of the fight. He was here because the woman he loved had believed he could do this.
And he had better win, because it was going to be damned awkward to tell her how much he loved her if he had just lost. It would be too demoralizing. It was scary as hell anyway, and he needed all the help he could get. He wondered what she would say, and imagined her telling him that it was too early. She would tell him that, too. She would say it had only been a few weeks.
He already knew his answer to that: I know I’m going to love you. I don’t know how I know, but I know it. He knew it didn’t make sense. But he also knew it was true. He pushed his way out of the locker room and into the deafening roar, and felt a smile stretch across his face. He did not look for Jasmine; he could feel her there, believing in him. He did not look for the guys—he could hear them yelling his name, and it made the blood pound in his chest. He’d never had anyone in the stands cheering for him before.
He’d never given back before. He’d never taught, or helped, or been kind. And he was surprised to find that the thought of the past few months warmed him more than the thought of victory.
He sized up Drake as he stepped into the ring. They boy was taller now, and his shoulders were broader. He’d been training hard, that much was clear. But there was a sleekness to his gear, a smoothness to his skin, that suggested he’d been training in an elite gym, pushing himself to the limits on shiny machines while never getting down and dirty. Tyler allowed himself a lazy smile.
When the bell went, he waited, and saw the flicker of consternation on Drake’s face. Once Tyler had been impulsive, always rushing in. He had no defensive mode then, and Drake had taken full advantage of that. It was as if the man had expected that Tyler would come back knowing nothing new.
His loss. Tyler darted away as Drake closed in, catching the man with an uppercut in the ribs before dancing out of range. The man winced, and Tyler smiled. Before, he hadn’t been much of a one for a tiny flurry of punches when one big one was so dramatic—but his students, all smaller, all used to winning fights they had no business even being in, had taught him the power of small strikes.
He was holding his own now. Tyler managed his distance, allowing the fight to drag on, searching for signs of weakness in his opponent. Drake was in peak physical condition, no doubt barred from anything delicious and forbidden to drink. But he wasn’t used to fighting for a long time. That was the difference between the two of them. Tyler caught him with a smarting blow on the temple and shrugged off a glancing hit to his torso.
He had a chance here. He felt his heart begin to swell, smugness radiating from inside him. Drake was good, Drake had trained. But Drake had also come here thinking this would be an easy win. He hadn’t thought Tyler would have the strength to get up and fight again. He was going to—
The flurry of punches caught Tyler without warning, blows raining onto his torso and then up onto his head. The crowd’s yells rose to a scream and Tyler stumbled back, his head ringing and stars flashing before his eyes. Drake was closing in on him aggressively now, and every time Tyler tried to evade him, he was getting closer and closer to failing. He knew how powerful Drake’s strikes could be. As he slid sideways the next time, at last, one of those famous punches caught him right along the jaw.
He was falling. He was going to go down, and not get up, and he’d have to watch them hoist Drake’s hand into the air again. Tyler embraced the sickening drop in his stomach as he went over backwards. Time had slowed down to a tiny crawl and he could see everything through his slitted eyes: Drake’s smug grin, Tyler’s former coach yelling in triumph, the crowd with their mouths hanging open. He was going to lose. He’d known he was going to lose and he’d come here anyway. Why?
No.
The thought caught him halfway to the floor. It wasn’t over until he said it was over. He’d lost last time because he’d been too shocked, too hurt, too blindsided to get up again and face another hit. He’d lost because he hadn’t known how to get up. With time still moving so slowly that Tyler felt trapped, lost, he began to twist. He watched his foot start to move. Could he catch himself in time?
Time snapped back into focus and he slammed back against the ropes, catching himself and staggering back up, his hands coming up into a guard. He saw his coach’s eyes widen, heard the yell for Drake to turn around. The fear in the other man’s eyes was like a drug, sending fire down Tyler’s veins. He was still seeing spots but he was not going to go down without a fight—a real fight. He was in it for the long haul.
He had something to win for, now.
He unleashed his own flurry of punches, the combination he’d been drilling the boys on for weeks now. Put effort into your fundamentals, he told them, striding around as their punches connected with pads. Your fundamentals will save you every time. And so they were, his punches landing perfectly on point, knuckles meeting ribs, jaw, nose.
And then Drake was on the floor and the crowd was screaming, and a man was hoisting Tyler’s hand into the air. He shook his head, trying to make sense of what had happened. He could see people jumping and waving, cheering his name and applauding.
It was as if he had never won before in his life. As if he’d never understood what it meant to win. They were proud of him. He’d taken hits and come back. He was their underdog, and he’d won fairly. They were cheering for him. He felt tears in his eyes and blinked them back, punching the air with one fist.
He vaulted over the ropes without even thinking. He could hear Jasmine’s voice, and he ran to her through the crowd, enfolding her in his arms. She was laughing and crying, kissing him, and he could see the words her mouth was shaping even if he couldn’t hear them over the yelling:
I’m so proud of you.
He leaned his forehead against hers and laughed with joy, with relief.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”
The End
Part II
Fight to Win
Sport Romance
Chapter One
I wish this dog would go number two already, Shelby Wilkes thought as she pulled on the leash, yanking her Pug, Bailey out of the street and the path of oncoming traffic. The dog had been constipated for five days and the medicine the vet had given him did not seem to be working.
The Pug had been sniffing around and investigating every bush and every tree for almost a half hour. Just when Shelby thought he might do something, he would change his mind and go in search of another “perfect spot”. It boggled her mind how a dog’s need to mark its territory completely overrode the need to relieve itself.
&n
bsp; She was enjoying the beautiful day however, it was a balmy ninety-five degrees at eight A.M., but the sun was shining brightly and the sky was totally clear. July was the hottest month in Phoenix, Arizona, but it was also the wettest due to the lovely monsoons that swept through on occasion at this time of year. So far this year the season had been relatively quiet. Shelby didn’t mind the heat really, and she loved the sunshine and the dry weather.
She had grown up in West Virginia where the summers were humid and often wet and the winters were cold and often wet. She had tired of that climate very quickly. She really didn’t miss it at all. When her family had visited the Grand Canyon when she was twelve, they had taken a drive down to the Phoenix area to visit some family. Her uncle Bob lived out here with his family and as soon as Shelby had seen the desert she knew that she wanted to live here too. Her dad would not uproot the family though; he had worked too hard to become manager in his accounting firm to pack it up and move to a new city for a new start.
As soon as she was eighteen, Shelby had headed for Phoenix and she had never looked back.
The Pug sniffed around a small cactus, and Shelby jerked him away from it. He was always going after the cacti. She was not about to pay another vet bill to have the thorns removed from his nose again. That had not been pleasant for either one of them the time he had chased a ball under a cactus. The poor little guy had been in excruciating pain until they were pulled out and then had been sore for a few days after. She’d thought he had learned his lesson, but apparently old Bailey was a little slow on the concept of cause and effect.
He finally found a bush to his liking after sniffing around and raised his leg up over the bush to find the perfect angle. Shelby watched with bated breath, becoming vaguely aware of how weird it was that she was watching her dog try to poop so intently, but it had been days.
Success! Shelby somehow felt like doing a victory dance, but she held herself together and looked away to give the Pug some modicum of privacy while he did his thing. After he was done she grabbed one of the little poop baggies from the dispenser clipped to her belt and picked up the mess. She hated it when people didn’t do that and it was becoming a huge problem. These little bags were not expensive and they lasted forever. People disgusted her.
“Carly, no!”
She jerked her head in time to see a Golden Lab rush up to her Pug. She immediately thought the worst and tried to pull Bailey back, but it was too late; the lab began to lick the Pug to death. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was a female lab and Bailey was welcoming all of the affection with open arms. He was already trying to sniff some butt.
The owner of the Lab finally caught up to them, appearing just a little out of breath. He scooped up the leash and wrapped it several times around his wrist to make sure this didn’t happen again.
“I’m so sorry,” the man said. He tugged on the leash pulling his lab away from Bailey. “Carly, come on. Let him alone.”
Shelby laughed at the scene.
“Well, I guess they like each other,” she said.
She bent down and began petting Carly, who responded with a smile and a wide pant, taking a break from the tongue bath she was giving Bailey.
“Well, she seems to like you too,” the man said.
“Tell her the feeling is mutual. She is beautiful,” Shelby replied.
“She says you are too,” the man said.
Shelby looked up at him. She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or flattered. The line was bordering on silly and cute. It was tough to decide which one she preferred at the moment.
“And the award for cheesiest line ever goes to me!” The man joked, a little embarrassed at his Freudian slip up.
“It wasn’t that bad. I’ve heard far worse.”
“Well, thanks. That makes me feel a little better, and bad for you. What the hell would be a worse line?” The man laughed.
“You’d be surprised.” Shelby stood up and pulled Bailey towards her.
“Oh, I’m Aaron by the way. Aaron Davis,” the man said holding out his hand.
Shelby shook it. “I’m Shelby Wilkes.”
“It’s very nice to meet you Shelby Wilkes. Are you new to the neighborhood?”
“I just moved in a few weeks ago,” Shelby said.
“Well, welcome. Are you from this area?”
“I’m from West Virginia originally,” she replied. “I moved here when I was eighteen.”
“I have lived here for a long time and I have met very few Arizona natives. Everybody here is originally from somewhere else, it seems.”
“I’ve noticed that as well.”
Shelby was starting to notice exactly how strikingly handsome Aaron was. He was tall with a lean, but athletic build. His hair was cropped short, in a typical bad boy style, and he had several distinct tattoos covering the upper parts of his arms. She thought tattoos were sexy and beautiful. There was something very primal about them that she had always found attractive.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you again,” Aaron said as he began to pull his lab away.
“Yea, that would be cool. I walk Bailey here every day about this time, so I’m sure we will run into each other.”
Shelby wished she had shut up already. Was she sounding too obvious? It seemed to her like she was sounding too obvious.
“Well, how about we run into each other tonight? Say, the Sky bar?”
Shelby thought a moment. She would have loved to see him, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to end up another notch on this guy’s bed post. He was sexy for sure, and he seemed like a nice guy, but she didn’t really know him. He was probably just thinking that a chubby girl like her would have nothing else going on for her tonight. Well, that was true, but she was going to make him work for her affections.
“I’m kind of busy, but if you give me your number I’ll call you,” Shelby said.
She handed her phone to him and he typed in his info.
Shelby started to walk away with Bailey.
“What? I don’t get your number?” Aaron said.
“Nope,” Shelby replied continuing to walk away.
She glanced back slightly as she reached the other side of the road. Aaron was still standing there watching her with a sly grin on his face. Then he laughed and began walking away with Carly.
Chapter Two
“Ugh!”
Shelby grunted trying to squeeze the jeans onto her chubby frame. She had fit into these jeans perfectly three months ago and now they were a size too small. Her heart sank as she took them off and threw them back in her closet.
It was disheartening to know that she was still gaining weight. She had never really fussed about her weight too much, even though she had always been a bigger girl. She had always just been herself and did not define who she was by her size. She knew some people tried to define her that way and that they tried to make her feel bad about herself, but she had always been blessed with bulletproof confidence and she just let that stuff roll off her back.
She found herself thinking about Aaron and how shocked he had been when she had not given him her number. He was probably someone who thought she might be an easy lay or that she would be so grateful that he’d asked her out that she would have jumped at the chance.
She was wondering when she should call him, or if she should. Maybe she would allow them to run into each other again and then pretend that she had just been too busy. Either way she was going to have a bit of fun with him.
Grabbing a skirt from her closet Shelby finished getting dress and adding a few finishing touches to her makeup. She grabbed a wine cooler from the fridge and continued her pre gaming for the evening. It was going to be a somewhat epic night from what her girlfriends were saying. They had all ditched responsibility for the evening and decided to go nuts and wild tonight.
Shelby thought about how many more of these kinds of nights she and the gang had in them. They were all nearing thirty and none of them seemed remotely close to the p
ossibility of settling down. This was a bit troubling to her at times, but she was not in any position to settle down either. She dated regularly and had even had a few serious relationships, but eventually it always went south.
She was fiercely independent and that seemed to threaten a lot of guys, who were used to being in control of things. Shelby couldn’t change who she was and she absolutely refused to do so. It was just the way it was. Any man she ended up with for the long term was going to have to understand that and he was going to have to understand she had a life outside of him.
She sat down in front of her computer and began some proofreading of her newest writing project, correcting typos, adding words to fill in gaps of description, and moving things around to make the overall flow more readable.
Shelby had been a freelance writer for eight years and she could not imagine doing anything else with her life. She had started writing when she was eight years old and had never stopped. When she came to Arizona State she majored in creative writing and had continued to write her own stuff on the side, working on her own creative voice. She had been lucky enough to have several mentors during her college career that helped her get her break into the world of freelancing. And the internet had made the whole market explode with the success of the Kindle publishing model and the creation of a multitude of freelance websites that brought freelancers and clients together faster and more easily than they ever could have been before.
The hours were long because she forced herself to work long hours. That was the thing about freelancing; you could work as much or as little as you wanted, but the world of freelancing was also very uncertain. You might get a lot of work one month or hardly any. It was fickle that way. That was one of the reasons why she pushed herself so hard, but she also loved to write. She liked to joke that she had never had a job in her life because she had always earned her keep from her passion.
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