Ready to Love

by Franca Storm

  It’s probably best to leave things as they are anyway. For the sake of our friendship and the band. It can only end badly. I already acted like a crazy woman in the kitchen this morning. I was trying to show him that I could handle what happened. That I was ready. But he read it as a challenge instead. God, that was embarrassing.

  “Let’s just leave it,” I say quietly so that Chloe and Mitch can’t hear.

  His eyes narrow. In what? Surprise? Anger? I can’t actually tell. It’s weird, because usually I can decipher every one of his looks. But since this development between us, it’s been impossible.

  “Really?” he asks me.

  I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah. It’s cool. We’re good.”

  “Nicki…”

  Shit, the look in his eyes catches me off guard. It’s the John I know. The gentle, compassionate John that only I get to see. Wait. Is he pitying me?

  “We’re good,” I snap harshly.

  Thankfully, I’m spared another one of his invasive stares when Mitch walks over to us and says, “I have class. You guys gonna write for a while?”

  John snaps out of the weird trance he’d been in. He clears his throat and asks, “Nicki?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry, not today. I have to be at the gym in…” I glance at my watch, “…oh shit…in ten minutes.” I always end up losing track of time during band practice. Time just flies on by when we get into it.

  “I’ll give you a ride,” Chloe calls to me.

  “Oh, thank God. I owe you.” I rest my guitar against the wall and hurry to the door. “I need to get changed. Give me five minutes?”

  “You got it,” Chloe says.

  I can feel John’s eyes boring into my back as I open the door.

  I don’t turn back around.

  It’s for the best.

  Chapter 10

  ~Nicki~

  “When a guy says he needs time, what does that mean to you?” I ask Chloe from the passenger seat of her silver BMW.

  She keeps her eyes on the road as she responds, “That he’s a dumb ass with commitment issues and not worth my precious time.”

  “Just as I thought.”

  “Why?” she asks, fluffing her long blonde hair absently. She glances at me, her Ray-Bans flashing my way. “Are we talking about a real guy here, Nicki?”

  “A hypothetical guy.”

  I can tell by her amused smile that she doesn’t buy my hypothetical bullshit.

  “Who is he?”

  Uh oh. “No one…anymore.”

  “Did he tell you why he needed this time of his?”

  “He said he didn’t want to hurt me.”

  She snorts out a laugh. “Bullshit.”

  “Really?”

  She nods. “Yeah. It means he’s not a relationship guy. He wants to fuck other women and if you’re not okay with it—what woman would be?—then he’s not gonna add you to the notches on his bedpost. He doesn’t want the drama. That’s what he means about not wanting to hurt you cuz if you’re hurt¸ then it’s gonna come back on him.”

  Huh. That makes perfect sense. It’s what I’d already thought. I’d just needed confirmation from someone with real world experience with guys. “Got it. So I should forget it then?”

  We arrive at the gym and Chloe pulls into a parking spot. She cuts the engine and then turns to me. She takes off her sunglasses and eyes me with that serious listen-to-my-words-of-wisdom stare of hers. “Look, Nicki; chasing a guy and doing things entirely on his terms is just gonna end with you having your heart ripped out. Trust me. Never chase. Be the chased. That way you hold all the power. I know you don’t like games and stuff, but that’s what dating is. Besides, you’re a bombshell. Any guy that doesn’t want you is the biggest dumbass on the planet. You’re one of those girls that should always be chased.”

  I screw up my nose. “Chloe,” I protest, embarrassed.

  She laughs. “I’m serious. Whenever we’re out, you never notice all the guys looking your way.”

  “I think they’re looking at you.”

  She grabs her boobs and says, “They’re looking at these babies.”

  “They are nice.”

  We both burst out laughing.

  Her eyes flick past me to the gym building. “You’re not talking about Axel.”

  “How did you know?”

  She smiles and points behind me. “Because he’s clearly someone who’s gonna chase you.”

  I turn my head to see Axel standing there by the gym entrance waving at us and smiling. Chloe leans over me and waves back for the both of us.

  “Stop,” I say, pushing her back to her seat.

  “What? I’m just helping you out. You guys already kissed, didn’t you? How was it?”

  “It…uh…it was a little rough, I guess.”

  She scoffs. “So what? Just tell him how you like it. Besides, first kisses are always awkward.”

  Are they? When John and I kissed it certainly wasn’t like that.

  I shake my head. “Nah. Besides, I haven’t heard from him in days. He never called.”

  “You were hibernating for a week or so. You guys take a lot of the same classes. He was probably doing the same, busy with schoolwork and stuff.”

  I never thought of that. In the band, I’m the only one who ever seems to study. I’d just come to accept that as the norm and assumed I was the only crazy one who studied so much. But maybe Chloe’s right. Maybe Axel is like that too.

  “He’s…”

  “He’s what?” Chloe presses. “Wait. You can tell him yourself. He’s coming over here.”

  “What? Oh shit.”

  Chloe laughs. She knows how inept I am with guys. And flirting is totally beyond me. Oh God, this is gonna be awkward as hell. Before I can do anything, she rolls down my window as Axel reaches us.

  He smiles and leans in.

  “Hey,” he says sweetly.

  “Uh…hey,” I respond, hating the stupid waver in my voice. Oh God. Save me.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I know this is gonna sound like a line, but I was honestly swamped with assignments. That paper for Heelman’s class on cognitive behavioral therapy nearly killed me.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I know. I struggled with it too.” Okay, this is good. I’m comfortable talking about this stuff.

  “Maybe next time we can brainstorm together,” he says.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I respond, noncommittally.

  Chloe starts the car and says, “You two get going. I have some much-needed shopping to do.”

  I turn to her and throw her a look. Shopping? What a blatant lie. She hates shopping alone. She never goes without me or one of her sorority sisters.

  “Seems like you’re in very capable hands,” she says, winking at me. Her suggestive words make me blush instantly.

  I fumble with my seatbelt. I’m about to open the door when, to my surprise, Axel opens it for me. I stare at him open-mouthed for a second, stunned by such a gentlemanly move. I thought people only did that in the movies. Well, I’m gonna take it.

  “Thank you,” I say as I grab my gym bag and step out of the car.

  He closes the door and Chloe takes off quickly, winking at me as she passes us by. I roll my eyes and turn my attention nervously to Axel.

  “Is that heavy?” he asks as we start walking over to the gym entrance.

  “A little, but I can handle it.”

  “Tough as nails, are you?”

  “You know it.”

  He chuckles. “I like that in a woman.”

  “Do you now?” I find myself saying. Wow, was that me who just said that?

  His gaze drifts over me. My black sweat pants. My matching hoodie that’s open and revealing my grey sports bra beneath.

  “Damn, those are some abs, babe.”

  Normally defensive when it comes to such overt compliments, I find myself warming at his. Now, that’s a surprise. What is going on with me? Ever since John and I…did what we did…I haven’t felt so self-c
onscious about this stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I still have issues, but some of them have faded a little. I like it.

  And I decide not to waste it. I make a bold move and lay my hand over his abs hiding beneath his sleeveless white t-shirt. He tenses in surprise but he doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t move away. I feel the distinct outline of a rock-hard set of abs.

  “You’ve never boxed before. Where are these from? Swimming?”

  “Spot on. I was on the swim team back in high school. How did you know?”

  I take my hand off him and shrug my shoulders. “I’m a good guesser.”

  Before I can stop him, his hand is on me. On my abs; touching me skin-to-skin. I suck in a sharp breath and he pulls back. “You don’t like people touching you?”

  “I…uh…it depends.” He stares at me as though he’s trying to figure me out. Shit, I don’t like this heat on me. It’s unnerving. And so, I add quickly, “So, are you training today or sparring?”

  “I heard about your fight today. I wanted to watch you kick Blake’s ass.”

  Right, yeah. Blake and I are sparring today. “It’s not a fight. Just sparring in the ring.”

  “I heard you’re really good.”

  “I am.”

  He smirks at me, obviously liking my arrogance when it comes to my boxing. I’m like that with my music too. If I know I’m good at something, I’m not gonna be all modest about it.

  “Well, I can’t wait to see a demonstration.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” I jest.

  ***

  “Time out, Blake?” I ask as he cups his left cheek that’s burning red from my jab.

  I hear laughs from the guys crowded around the ring.

  He grins at me and readies his boxing stance. “No, I’m good.”

  “Told you not to underestimate her!” Jim calls to him as he leans against the ropes.

  Jim taught me everything about fighting and not just about boxing. He’s taught me street fighting too, everything I need to defend myself. Jim’s in his sixties, but he’s still as fit as any of the guys here that are decades younger. He’s a big guy. Over six-foot and built like a tank with tattoos covering most of his skin. His stark white hair is always in a strict crew cut and he’s always clean-shaven. Never any stubble. All the guys nickname him Drill Sergeant. But behind that tough exterior are his kind hazel eyes—just like John’s. He’s been really good to me and he watches my back. I get that it’s dangerous having a woman in a gym completely dominated by guys. The air is always thick with testosterone and alpha-male posturing. There have been a couple of incidents where one of the guys has tried to mess with me; challenge me. But I dealt with them before Jim could even make it over to me. Although, the culprits were banned from ever returning after that.

  “You called her your little princess,” Blake complains.

  “She is. Doesn’t mean she can’t pound most of the guys here into the ground,” Jim fires back.

  Blake fires off a quick jab. I dodge it easily as I bounce on the balls of my feet, my gloves up and ready for whatever he’s got.

  He tries again and misses. It leaves him open and I roll with the opportunity, smashing my left fist into his solar plexus and following up with a right hook to the side of his face. He stumbles back in surprise. “Fuck,” he mutters, eyeing Jim with disbelief.

  Taking your eye off your opponent, Blake? Big mistake.

  I launch myself at him, pummeling him into the ropes, my whirlwind of blows landing perfectly. His arms wrap around me and he pulls me into him, enveloping me in a crushing bear hug; the kind that is most definitely illegal.

  “Disqualified!” Jim yells.

  Blake laughs and releases me. “Yeah, I know.” He holds his right fist out to me. I meet it with my own. “You’re good, Nicki,” he tells me before climbing out of the ring. I watch him limp away, holding his stomach and wincing with every step.

  I bound over to Jim and lean against the ropes. “Thanks. That was fun.”

  I’m thanking him because he finally gave into my unyielding insistence that he let me box with a guy in the ring—full on sparring. Normally, I’m not really allowed to spar with guys inside the ring, because I’m a girl and only 5’1” and one hundred pounds.

  I climb out and Jim instantly has his fingers on my right cheek, right where I took a hefty punch from Blake. I flinch at the contact as I always do. But Jim knows me and immediately says what he always says, “It’s okay, princess.”

  “Is she all right?”

  It’s Axel’s voice. He joins us by the ring and gazes at me with concern.

  “Yeah. She’ll be fine. She’s not cut. It won’t bruise too badly,” Jim tells him. He grabs my arm. My tattoo is red raw from the burn of Blake’s glove. He laughs. “That phoenix just looks a little angry. You’re good. It’ll just be sore for a couple of days. Ice your cheek, Nicki. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I will.” I pull off my gloves and start unwrapping my hands.

  He lets me go. “See you in a couple of days.”

  “You know it.”

  I toss my wraps and gloves into my open gym bag on the floor beside the ring. And then I snatch up my hoodie and shrug it on, not bothering to do it up. I’m sweating too much for that. Before I can reach for my bag, Axel grabs it for me.

  “I’ll walk you to the showers,” he says before I can protest.

  I raise my eyebrows at him.

  “I’ll wait outside. God, you have a dirty mind.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, I saw that look you gave me.”

  “You seriously weren’t thinking what I thought you were?”

  “About joining you in there and soaping up your wet, naked body? Nope. But now I am.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks.

  “Always after a fight.”

  “Good. We’ll go eat somewhere after you shower.”

  He looks at me, waiting intently for my answer.

  Why the hell not? “Okay,” I say. I grab my gym bag from him and bound off into the shower room. I bump into Blake on my way in. “Sorry.”

  “For bumping into me, or for this?” he asks, lifting his t-shirt to show me the nasty bruising already forming over his stomach.

  “Hey! Don’t flash my girl!” Axel calls to him.

  Blake laughs. He ruffles my hair and says, “Good fight, Nicki.”

  I smile and make my way into the shower room. Although they’re unisex, thankfully they’re all private stalls. I step inside and close the door. And then it hits me. Axel just called me his girl. Shit. That’s a little fast. Maybe John was right about that possession thing that Axel’s frat has going on. Well, we’re just going out to grab a bite to eat. I’ll just make sure he doesn’t leave his mark on me again. I hate hickeys. They’re so…urgh.

  I force myself to put it out of my mind and concentrate on showering.

  ***

  I push through the gym doors and stop short when I see Axel-fucking-Craven leaning against the wall beside the shower rooms. Argh! The last person I ever wanna see.

  “Hey,” he says as I approach. “Doesn’t look like you’re here to work out,” he comments, glancing at my clothes.

  I’m wearing a pair of worn, ripped jeans and a white dress shirt, with a leather jacket thrown over it. I’m definitely not dressed to box today.

  “I’m here to pick Nicki up,” I respond, scanning the gym floor to my left for any sign of her.

  “Did she call you?”

  “No. I knew she didn’t have a ride, so I’m here.”

  “Well, there’s no need. I’m taking her out. I’ll drop her home after.”

  What. The. Fuck? “What?” I snap, raising my voice.

  My reaction amuses him. Too much. He steps towards me and asks, “Are you guys dating, or something, Johnny boy? Is she your girl?”

  Is she my girl? Such a loaded question, especially right now. She isn’t, but she’s definitely something t
o me.

  “Well?” he presses me, stepping closer.

  “She. Is. Mine.”

  “Weird, because it didn’t seem like it. She didn’t mention you. She didn’t say a damned word about you actually, even after I asked her out to eat. I would’ve thought that if she was yours then she would’ve said something and turned me down, you know?”

  “It’s complicated, you fuck.”

  “You’re either dating, or you’re not. So which is it?”

  I hate people fucking questioning me. It really gets under my skin. And it’s worse right now cuz it’s about Nicki. I don’t answer. I just stand there staring the motherfucker down.

  “Thought so,” he says, interpreting my silence the way he wants to.

  “What do you want with her? She’s not your usual type. She’s not one of your easy fucks.”

  He smiles slyly and lowers his voice to barely above a whisper. “You can’t fuck them all, Johnny boy.”

  I knew it! Fuck!

  I can’t contain my temper and I lunge at him, slamming him into the wall. The boxer in me takes over and I drive my fist right into his fucking gut. Once. Twice. He thrusts his hands out and pushes me back and the asshole is laughing. Enraged beyond belief, all I see is red. Blood red. All I know is that I want him down on the ground choking on his own blood. I plunge my right fist into his face. He curses as his head snaps to the side from the power of my hit. A sick part of me gets off on seeing the bloodied scrape on his face, the fact that I made the stupid prick bleed.

  “You don’t fucking touch her!” I bellow. “Do you hear me, asshole?”

  Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me away from him.

  Axel, the pussy that he is, uses the opportunity to punch me in the face. What kind of a man takes a hit at a guy being restrained? The guy knows no respect. Son of a bitch! I lunge at him, but the arms on me tighten and force me back. There’s only one person who can restrain me when I’m this angry. Uncle Jim.