Dropkick My Heart: Powerhouse M.A. Series

Home > Romance > Dropkick My Heart: Powerhouse M.A. Series > Page 2
Dropkick My Heart: Powerhouse M.A. Series Page 2

by Winter Travers


  “Just let me know if you want me to go talk to them,” I hollered.

  I turned around and leaned against the register. I had heard the karate place before, but that was normally later in the day after I closed. When the grunting and yelling would start, I just turned up my music a bit louder and tuned them out. I didn’t like that they were so loud during the day that my customers were unable to enjoy themselves.

  “Refills are done; everyone knows last call is up.” Sage dropped the empty coffee pot in the sink and turned on the water. She plugged up the sink and squirted in a butt-load of soap. “What’s got you looking like a Debbie Downer?”

  “Nothing really. Just thinking about the karate place.”

  “You thinking of joining to learn how to kick some ass?”

  “Negative. I’m pretty sure I’d break my whole body. You know I have the grace of a newborn giraffe.”

  “Then, why were you thinking of the four hunks next door?” Sage wiggled her eyebrows and turned off the water.

  “Bess told me that they are really loud over there, and it was messing with their book club today. Hell, not just today. She said Saturdays are even worse.”

  Sage waved her hand. “Please, those five cackle in the corner and are oblivious to anything except for the scorching hot sex in their books.”

  Scorching hot sex was a pretty accurate description of what Bess and her group of ladies liked to read. Some of the covers on those books would make even a call girl blush. “Yeah, but still. Don’t you think I ought to say something? I mean, I’m sure they would complain if I was making too much noise over here.”

  “I highly doubt that. From the looks of those four fine specimens of men, they don’t complain or ask, they just do and take.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “So then, what do I do?”

  “Keep making coffee, and move the Moaners over to the other corner. Hell, put Frank in the corner. Half the time, he forgets to turn up his hearing aid. He won’t even hear them over there.”

  I sighed and started taking apart the espresso machine for its daily cleaning. “How is that fair? They can be loud, obnoxious dill holes, and I have to move all of my customers around?”

  Sage shook her head and dunked her hands into the soapy water. “Number one, we need to work on your insults. I’m not sure you calling them dill holes is as intimidating as you think.”

  I grabbed the towel next to me and snapped it at Sage. “I’ll have to work on that. Now, tell me what number two is.”

  She held up two soapy fingers and smirked. “Number two is, you go make nice with the head kung fu hunk.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t start trying to get laid, Frank’s son is going to start looking more and more appealing.”

  I dropped some of the dirty machine parts into the water and grabbed a dry dish towel. “That is never going to happen, Sage.”

  “Which one? Frank’s son, or the kung fu master?”

  “Both. I’m not going to date Frank’s son, and I am not going to meet anyone over at the karate studio.”

  Sage rolled her eyes and handed me a soapy mug. “Mmhmm, we’ll see about that.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I set the dry mug on the counter.

  “It just means you never know what is going to happen.”

  I glanced at Sage from the corner of my eye, and couldn’t help but feel that she knew something I didn’t. Sage always seemed to be one step ahead of me, no matter how much I tried to keep my head up. “I’m afraid,” I mumbled.

  Sage threw her head back and laughed. “Afraid of what?”

  “I’m afraid of the smirk on your face and what you already know that I don’t know.”

  Sage shook her head. “That was a mouth full.”

  “And now you’re ignoring the fact that I know that you know something that I don’t know.”

  Sage laughed. “Say know one more time for me.”

  “No. And that’s not the know you want me to say, either.” I tossed the dish towel at her. “Just for that, you can do the dishes on your own, while I take inventory.”

  “So, just like every other Monday, right?” Sage called.

  I pushed open the door to the storeroom and flipped on the light. There wasn’t much storage room in the coffee shop, but I had figured creative ways to organize most everything into the small space—the extra bags of coffee beans, flavored syrups, and my overabundance of cups. I had an irrational fear of running out of cups. If I were to actually step back and think about it, I’m sure I had enough cups for at least half a year, lids included.

  The storage room butted right up next to the karate studio, and I pressed my ear to the wall. It was quiet, and all I could hear was my own breathing. “You look like a dope right now, Mol,” I mumbled out loud. Thank the Lord there wasn’t anyone around to see.

  I grabbed my clipboard I had hanging next to the door and stood in front of the shelving that stored all of the beans.

  This was my Zen time—where I could just take in the fact that everything I wanted for the past seven years was finally mine. Owning Java Spot was something I had dreamed about since I was a young teenager and had walked into the local coffee shop where I used to live. I loved the smell of coffee and the vibe of relaxing and just taking the time to stop, and breath.

  At least Java Spot used to be a calm place. Now, with all of the screaming and grunting coming from next door, I didn’t know how long it would be until more customers started complaining. I turned to look at the wall and tilted my head. Maybe Bess was just too sensitive. I had never heard any screaming before. Maybe it was all in her head.

  “Molly,” Sage called. “I’m gonna lock up, finish the dishes, and then I gotta run to pick up Sam from school, okay?”

  I peeked my head around the corner. “Leave the dishes, and just lock up on the way out.”

  Sage took off her apron and draped it over the counter. “You sure? I still have fifteen minutes until I need to get him.” Sage had a five-year-old son who I absolutely adored.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I waved her off. “I need to work on some new drinks anyway, so you doing the dishes I’m just going to dirty again doesn’t make sense. Go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Sage hemmed and hawed for a minute before I finally pushed her out the door and threw the lock after her. Now it was time for the fun part of the day—finishing up inventory and then time to experiment.

  I really did have the best job, and I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  **********

  Kellan

  “Dude. How do you not have any furniture yet?”

  Roman shrugged. “I got everything I need.”

  I looked around the small studio apartment Roman moved into over six months ago and shook my head. “You have a TV, recliner, and a lamp.”

  “Is there something wrong with that, Martha Stewart?”

  I flipped him off and collapsed into the lone recliner. “I see you’re still in a shitty mood.”

  Roman leaned against the wall. “I’m fine. Just fucking bored.”

  “Try coming to the studio and working. You might not be so bored then.”

  “It was fucking Sunday today. We were closed.”

  I shook my head. “There is shit to do when we aren’t open for classes or lessons, you do know that, right?”

  “You know I’m not down with doing fucking paperwork. That’s your shit to do.”

  “So, I assume washing down the mats and mopping the floors is my shit too, huh?” I spent all day washing down the mats while Dante had mopped and vacuumed the floors. I was sorer from crawling around on the mats than after an intense workout.

  Roman waved me off. “I didn’t know you were doing that shit today.”

  I sighed. Roman was going to drive me to drink. “What the fuck is your deal, man? You know the third Sunday of the month we clean the studio from top to bottom. Been that way for the past six months.”


  “You come over here just to lecture me? Because you could have done this shit over the phone instead of sitting in my only chair to do it.”

  I didn’t want to come over here and act like Roman’s dad, but he needed to figure out what he was doing. We all agreed six months ago that this was what we all wanted, but now Roman was acting like a sullen teenager who was being forced to do his chores all of the time. I had signed up to start a business, not be his fucking babysitter. “I came over here to try to figure out where your head is.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means if you wanna be part of Powerhouse, then fucking be there. We decided to do this together, but it seems all you’re doing is collecting a paycheck while Dante, Tate, and I do all the fucking work.”

  “I miss one day, and don’t scrub the fucking mats with you, and suddenly you think I’m just there for the fucking money?”

  I stood up and paced the length of the living room. “Yesterday wasn’t the first day you’ve missed, Roman. You fucking know that. I know we all don’t have to be there every day, but your days off outnumber your days working.”

  “You want me to start punching the fucking time clock? We’ll see how much I really am there then,” he sneered.

  I ran my fingers through my hair. This wasn’t what I fucking wanted. Roman was my best friend, and all I wanted to do was run a kick-ass karate school with three of the best black belts I knew. “Just fucking be there, Roman. And if you don’t want to be there, just say it.”

  Roman pushed off the wall and fell into the recliner. He grabbed the remote off the floor and turned on the TV. “I’ll see you tomorrow, three o’clock.”

  “Classes don’t start until five.”

  “I’ll be there at fucking three. I’ll do my penance by washing the windows.”

  I sighed heavily. “That all you fucking got out of this?”

  Roman turned up the volume on the TV.

  I threw my hands up and stalked out the door. “See ya later, dick,” I called. I slammed the door behind me and leaned against wall outside his apartment.

  When did life go from fun and just living, to having to be a fucking boss? I glanced at my watch. It was only half past six, and I knew what I needed to do.

  Head back to the studio and beat the hell out of a punching bag. Too bad I was going to imagine it was Roman’s head.

  **********

  Molly

  “Done,” I sang out as I dried the last coffee cup.

  It was well past closing time, and I was once again talking to myself. It had been a busy day with Sage having the day off, and I had managed to man the register and the coffee machine with ease. Thankfully, I had an amazing group of customers who were okay with waiting a couple extra minutes to get their coffee.

  I leaned against the counter and tossed the dish towel in the laundry basket I had on the floor. I needed to do one load of laundry, but I really wasn’t feeling it. I rolled my shoulders and knew a hot bath when I got home was going to be the only thing I would be doing before falling into bed. Laundry would have to wait until tomorrow.

  Gavin Degraw crooned from the speakers piped in throughout the cafe, and I looked around, making sure I had finished everything I absolutely had to do.

  The specials board was washed clean of last week's specials, and now boasted the all new concoctions I had dreamed up. I knew the Mint Iced Coffee was going to be a big hit with the soccer and karate moms, and the new flavored teas were going to help bring in more of the yoga crowd. I was constantly tweaking the menu, hoping to find that one drink people went crazy for.

  I tilted my head to the side and stared at the wall connected to the karate school. “Holy balls.”

  I heard it—screaming. Although, screaming wasn’t the right word. It was more like grunting and weird syllables being yelled. So that was what Bess had been talking about.

  Yesterday, I had been so busy that I hadn’t been able to hear myself think, let alone listen for strange noises being bellowed. Now that I was all alone, I could hear it loud and clear. I slowly walked into the storage closet and shut the door.

  “What in the hell?’ I whispered. I could hear the grunting, but now I could also hear something that sounded like pounding.

  “Ta, aye!”

  Okay, now I was beyond confused. What was going on over there? I was utterly clueless when it came to anything with karate, and well, any sport actually, but I had to wonder, did he have to be so loud? On top of the grunting, and pounding, his music vibrated the wall with its throbbing bass.

  I stepped back and clutched my hand to my chest as a loud booming scream ripped through the wall, and I knew exactly what Bess had been talking about.

  “Shit.” What was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t not say anything. Maybe they didn’t know they were so loud. I grabbed my clipboard and wrote down the time and date.

  I was too exhausted to put any thought into this right now. Maybe today was just a fluke. The grunting stopped, but the pounding bass still shook the walls. I hung up my clipboard and walked out of the storage closet. The music was barely audible by the time I made it to the register. I turned around and jumped when the grunting started again.

  Either someone was getting the shit beat out of them, or they were actually working out some frustration right now. A shot of espresso would probably do them some good.

  I dropped my dirty apron in the laundry basket, turned off all of the lights, and shuffled to the door with the basket under my arm.

  After locking up behind me, I headed to my car. I knew I was going to have to say something to the karate school, but today was not going to be that day.

  My bed was calling my name, and nothing was going to keep from sleeping like the dead tonight.

  Not even grunting, macho kung fu dudes.

  **********

  Kellan

  “One more time. This time, loud and give it everything you’ve got.” I slammed the blockers together, and the three lines of twenty-five kids ran through their delta combo. Tate and Roman wove in and out of the kids, watching each student and stopping where more instruction was needed.

  Roman had made it a point to be here every day since I ripped into him on Sunday. Four days in a row where he was here early and didn’t bitch about anything was pretty damn impressive.

  “All right, take a knee!” I hollered over the excited chatter around the room. “We are two weeks out from belt graduation. I should have a lot more homework coming in than this. The pretest is this Thursday. You need to have all of your stripes, homework, and the sheet from your teacher filled out completely if you want to test.” Most of the kids groaned except for the few who had already turned in their homework. Tate and Roman stood behind the kids with their arms folded over their chest and shook their heads. “Get it done, or no new belt. Everyone up,” I commanded. “And bow.”

  We all bowed, and after twenty-five sets of high tens and milling around finding coats, shoes, and bags, all the students and parents wandered out.

  “You do know if we keep getting new students like we are, we’re going to have to start having separate classes.” Tate was laid out on the mat, his arms held up as he twirled a kama in each hand.

  “We’d have to even if we weren’t getting new white belts. Half of the class is moving onto level two this next belt graduation.” I grabbed the stack of attendance cards off the small podium in the corner. Each student had their own attendance card that they needed to give a black belt each time they made it to class. Each student had to make it to at least sixteen classes over the course of two months as part of being able to move onto the next belt color. We offered four classes a week, so to make it to sixteen in two months wasn’t much of a hassle. It was when they moved onto levels three and four when things got much harder with the requirement of thirty classes.

  Tate stopped spinning the kamas and sat up. “Oh shit, you’re right.”

  “How the hell are we going to do that?�
�� Roman asked. He grabbed his bo staff and started doing left-right-lefts, spinning the bo around.

  I shook my head. “It’s not going to be that big of an adjustment. In the long run, it’ll be easier for us. Right now, we really need three of us here for classes.”

  Tate snickered. “Except when we all bail on you.”

  “Yeah, except then,” I agreed. “After we split the classes, two instructors will be more than doable.”

  “Until you get ten more white belts walking through the door,” Roman mumbled.

  Tate resumed spinning the kamas sitting up. “I’m thankful for each white belt that walks onto this mat. Means my electricity bill is going to be paid this month.”

  “True that,” I agreed.

  Roman tossed his bo in the air, spun around, and caught it behind his back. “You guys ever miss the tournaments?” He continued throwing and catching the bo effortlessly. Roman had definitely become the man to beat when it came to bo staff.

  “What are you talking about? There's a tournament three weeks from today you can enter, Ro.” Tate tossed up a kama, pointed over his shoulder with his empty hand, and caught the kama in the air on the kama he had in his other hand. “First place is fifty bucks,” Tate snickered.

  Roman shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a dumbass?”

  Tate stopped spinning his kama and pointed it at Roman. “So, do you store your bo up your ass? Because that would explain the stick you have shoved up there.”

  Roman tossed his bo on the ground and advanced on Tate. “I’m going to enjoy kicking your fucking ass,” he rumbled.

  “Knock it off,” I called. I turned, bowed to the mat, and walked backward to the office. “I don’t want to clean blood off the mat.”

  Roman growled, clasped his fists at his sides, and glared down at Tate who had fallen back laughing at Roman. “I’ll catch you in sparring next week,” he warned.

 

‹ Prev