Working It

by Christine d'Abo

Nolan waved his hand. “This is the best ever. So glad you brought me here.”

  In a flash, the tension that had built to near painful proportions dissolved. Zack smiled and allowed himself a few moments to savor his steak. “See, I know what I’m talking about.”

  Nolan nodded with an enthusiasm that he’d rarely seen in another adult. “Hey, is that gym open? Given the caliber of this place, I feel like you have pretty good taste. Maybe I should be looking at going there instead of the weight room in Tina’s building. I mean, not that I’d be much of a boxer with my bad leg and stuff, but my doctor has been after me to do more strength training. Mixing it up might be better than using the same weight machines all the time.”

  There was no reason to think Nolan would betray his trust if he showed him. No reason to believe anything horrible would come from opening the door of his personal life just a tiny crack to share with someone else. He’d already shared so much with his assistant—no, his friend—that this was the next natural step.

  Wasn’t it?

  “Are you okay?” Nolan wiped a hand on his napkin and gave Zack’s hand a pat. “You zoned out there.”

  “I’m good. Just thinking.”

  Nolan grunted and picked up his burger again. “You need to stop working all the time. I would be surprised if your brain ever shut off.”

  “It does. Sometimes.” Fuck it, why would he have brought Nolan here, if not to visit Ringside when they were done? People had interests outside work that they shared with friends. There was no reason to chicken out now. “When you finish up I’ll take you over there.”

  “Awesome.” Nolan licked a fleck of ketchup from the corner of his mouth. “Should be fun.”

  Fun. Yes, it could be fun, or it could change everything. Zack took another bite of steak, this time tasting nothing.

  Nolan was clearly a thick idiot. Either that or the food had been so unbelievably amazing that it had cast a spell over him and changed his perspective of the world around him. The building he currently stood in front of was not at all what he’d been expecting. There weren’t any flashing lights to advertise it, no sweaty, hulking men and women streaming in and out.

  Hell, there didn’t appear to be any windows.

  “I thought you said this was a gym?”

  Zack stood in front of the door, fiddling with a padlock. “It is. Was. Will be.”

  “That made about as much sense as Chopra’s technical budget.”

  If there’d been a sign in front of the business, it was long gone. Fluorescent tubes buzzed above them, but the marquee itself was devoid of text. Zack was oblivious to Nolan as he finally opened the lock and pulled the old door open, dislodging a handful of paint flakes. “Let me get the alarm first.”

  “You have a security alarm in this place? Wait, why do you know the code? Why do you have a key?”

  The mono-melodic sound of electronic buttons being pressed gave way to silence, then clicking as Zack flicked on light switches. “I own the building.”

  Nolan’s mouth fell open, and his feet refused to move. “What?”

  “Get in here and I’ll explain.”

  The air inside was thick with dust and no doubt three different types of mold. The space he’d entered was large enough to accommodate the large central boxing ring, several side areas where people could work out, and some punching bags along the back. There were mirrors around the walls, though many were either broken or so dirty they were useless. Nolan had never been in a place like this, but by the way Zack moved to the ring and climbed inside, he was clearly no stranger.

  “So.” Nolan shook his head. “You own a defunct boxing gym.”

  Zack leaned his forearms on the top rope and nodded. “I do. It took every penny I had to buy it, which didn’t leave me much to spend on renovation.”

  “You said, ‘It is. Was. Will be.’ Explain.”

  He’d gotten to know Zack’s moods quite well over the past month. He’d seen him frustrated, impressed, annoyed, and once even pleased. He’d never seen him nervous.

  Zack looked around, a soft smile on his lips. “I know this will come as a surprise to you, but I wasn’t the best teenager.”

  “No?” He rolled his eyes. “And?”

  “And my parents were at their wits’ end most days dealing with me. I was angry, lost my shit around them on more occasions than I’d care to admit.” He turned his head, making it difficult for Nolan to see his face. “My parents got me into therapy, and the therapist suggested the afterschool boxing club here at Ringside. Russel, the owner, had a grandson who was gay and had been bullied so badly in high school that he eventually . . . well. Killed himself. In his memory, Russel started this club for LGBTQ kids to learn self-protection, but also how to deal with frustration. Channel our anger and fears into something that wouldn’t get us into trouble. At first it was just a few of his grandson’s friends, then word spread and it turned into kind of a haven. It gave us a place to hang out where we could feel accepted and talk to other kids who were going through the same stuff. I came here three times a week and worked out my teen angst on a punching bag. Once I learned some control, I graduated to boxing with people.”

  It was so easy to see Zack as an angry youth. The tight control he had over his emotions at the office, his difficulty dealing with his assistants, it all made sense. “You’ve come a long way.”

  “Not far enough. I’m not a nice man, but I could have grown up to be far worse. This place helped me get a handle on my feelings. When Russel passed away, the gym shut down. That was seven years ago, and ever since it’s been a dream of mine to open it back up. To make it available to teens who need a safe place to blow off some steam.”

  “So why are you working for Compass? It sounds like this is your passion, your dream. Why not quit and do this full-time?”

  “Money.” The way he said the word, it was as though a needle of steel had pierced him.

  Of course. Taking another look around, Nolan began to guestimate the expenses. So much had been worn down from time, neglect, or both, leaving very little that seemed salvageable. “Is the ring in good shape?”

  “It’s the only thing that’s giving me hope. The rest will have to be fixed, probably gutted in some areas, like the showers and steam room. I’m sure most of the building isn’t up to current building codes either, so that would be significant. I need investors to help not only with the setup, but with the ongoing costs for paying instructors and doing the initial promotion. My hope is for the teen program to be free, supported by the regular members or maybe a government grant.”

  Nolan came farther into the room, trying to picture it full of boxers, seeing a young and angry Zack in the ring trying to learn self-discipline. “How many other kids were part of the program?”

  “Most of the time I was here, the group was at a low point, and there were only two others. You met Max the other night, he owns Frantic. Eli is our other buddy, but he moved out to Calgary a few years ago. We weren’t the first teens this place helped, and there were many after. The numbers fluctuated, but Russel took in anybody who wanted to come and was willing to follow the gym rules.”

  Nolan looked where Zack pointed, to a faded poster on the wall. The paper was water-stained, and the lower half of the page had been torn off. He could barely make out the words on a few lines:

  2) If the manager is wrong, refer to rule 1.

  3) Don’t forget your towel. Use it!

  4) Put all equipment back in the proper place after use.

  Nolan smiled to think of Zack and his friends, and tons of other kids over the years, policing each other on replacing weights and wiping down sweaty benches. Caring for the place that gave them an escape from more serious concerns. He could only imagine how special this place had been to so many. No wonder Zack wanted to bring it back to life.

  “I’ve never been in an old-school gym like this. Or a boxing ring. I’m not exactly the athletic type.” Ignoring the dirt on the ropes and the pain in his leg, N
olan carefully climbed up into the ring. “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing.”

  Nolan snorted. “Please. You can’t undertake a project of this magnitude alone. I’ve seen your work calendar, remember. You’ll need someone to do some running around for you, set up meetings with city inspectors, get an estimate for construction costs—”

  “No.”

  “You need to have an estimate for something like this before you can approach investors. They’ll want to—”

  “I said no.”

  Nolan snapped his mouth shut and turned to face Zack. This shouldn’t be a big deal. He might be new to being an assistant, he might not know everything he needed to if he was going to help with this, but he wasn’t an idiot. He’d proven himself capable. But before he could open his mouth to say any of that, he looked Zack in the eyes.

  Instead of the cocksure executive he’d grown used to, there stood a man who appeared to be stripped of all defenses. If Nolan didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Zack was scared, or at the very least unsure of what to do next. That wasn’t the man he’d come to know over the past month.

  That said, he knew he wasn’t the most perceptive of people lately. He’d gone through so much in the last few years that he’d kind of become blind to other people’s problems. Stuck in a mire of uncertainty for months on end, working through both physical and emotional pain, never knowing if the next thing he’d do would set off his anxiety, he’d drawn his focus inward and it was hard to reverse that.

  But not with Zack. Nolan had come to know his moods, to understand his underlying currents. This uncertainty was so out of character for him, Nolan could only assume that the gym meant more to Zack than he would acknowledge.

  Looking down at his feet, Nolan bounced a bit on the canvas. “This isn’t exactly as I pictured it being. It’s harder than I realized.”

  “You need something that’s firm underfoot but able to cushion your fall when you go down.”

  “I’d be on my ass a lot.” Taking some larger than normal steps, he did his best imitation of a boxer, landing awkward punches on floating dust motes. “God, I’d suck at this.”

  “Most people do when they first start. Once you get some training, it can be a great way to get out your frustrations and get into shape.”

  Nolan couldn’t imagine taking up a sport that involved him hitting people—even before the accident, he’d never have thought to try it. “I’m more of a lover than a fighter.”

  “Don’t know about that, but you’re not a bad kisser.” Zack laughed when he looked over at him. “You’re cute when you’re surprised.”

  “I’m not.” The ache in his leg started up, and he reached down to rub at it.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “A bit. It sometimes happens at the end of a long day.” His physiotherapist had warned him there was only so much they could do to get him back to normal. The pain would always be a part of his life, and he was learning to manage it as best he could. He’d made a point not to complain. When he did slip up and mention it, Tina tended to fuss over him, but Zack . . .

  Zack was his boss.

  “Never play poker.” Zack made his way across the canvas, looking as comfortable on the surface as Nolan felt awkward. “Every thought you have flits across your face for the world to see.”

  Nolan cringed. “Yes, I learned that the hard way.” With only a short distance between them, Zack’s warmth and scent wrapped around him. “Don’t think I don’t know you’ve totally changed the subject. I could be a big help, and it looks like you need it.”

  “You changed the subject, actually. I can’t bring you into this, Nolan. I . . . You’re not . . .” Zack growled. “You’re my employee. Asking you to work on this place is so outside the acceptable range of what’s appropriate, even I can’t justify it.”

  Nolan couldn’t be certain, but there seemed more to Zack’s dismissal than Nolan simply being his employee. He seemed almost protective of the gym. Or maybe of himself. “You didn’t ask. I offered. I assume your plan is to help other LGBTQ teens? Not just the ones who need it for anger management?”

  “That was the plan. Max wanted to have a girls-only group as well. His sister spent a lot of time here in high school, and she’d make a great coach.”

  Nolan found himself taking another step closer, shrinking the nominal space between them even more. “See, then that is something I’d want to be a part of. I’m not asking to be a joint owner or anything. I don’t have the money for that. But this place could be important and help a lot of people. I’m more than happy to volunteer my time to get it going.”

  Zack’s gaze slipped from Nolan’s to land on his mouth. “You’re going to do all that on top of helping me with the problems at Compass? You’d be stretched too thin, and I need you focused at work.”

  Nolan’s heart raced, and he had to swallow hard before he could get the rest out. God, this was the sort of thing that he’d longed to be a part of for years, even before the accident. He wanted to contribute, to touch the lives of people who struggled, make things better, make things right. “I know you might find this hard to believe, but I think I could be a real help to you . . . to the gym. I want to.”

  The air between them was warm, heavy with unspoken words and charged with sexual tension. With something else, too, that was new to Nolan. He didn’t just want Zack for sex, but to spend time with. He wanted to keep conversing, keep bantering, even if it was more intense than he was used to. He loved that Zack never treated him with kid gloves, despite having witnessed more than one of his attacks; he didn’t baby Nolan or think he couldn’t do his job.

  Then there had been the kiss, and the dinner. Clearly at least some aspects of the attraction were reciprocal, and if Zack didn’t want to be around Nolan more, he wouldn’t have invited him to share a meal.

  It didn’t make sense that Zack didn’t want him involved with this.

  Did it?

  Zack took another step so there was barely an inch separating them; he reached up and cupped the back of Nolan’s head, but didn’t pull him in for the kiss Nolan desperately wanted. Their eyes locked, and Nolan lost all awareness of everything else around them. The truth was, Zack had become the center of his life in such a short time he was completely overwhelmed; that alone should probably have made him wary, but it didn’t.

  Fighting his impulses to kiss, touch, grab, Nolan instead whispered, “Let me help you.”

  Zack cupped the back of Nolan’s head with his other hand. “I’m scared of what that would mean.”

  “Whatever you need it to mean.”

  “I’m not a nice man.”

  “I’m a broken man. We seem to get along just fine.”

  “This is different.” Zack’s eyes slipped closed for a moment as he sighed. “I don’t want to break you any more than you are.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You don’t know that. I could. I’ve already pushed you to the edge once. I wouldn’t want to do that again.”

  Jesus, what a stubborn ass. Nolan leaned in so his lips brushed Zack’s. “You also pulled me back from the edge. Twice.” Closing his eyes, he kissed Zack softly.

  Zack’s fingers flexed against the back of Nolan’s head, but didn’t move him any more. Nolan could feel his body shaking through those simple points of contact, knowing Zack was holding back. It was fine, this was good. The gentle pressure of lips and fingers only highlighted the passion Nolan knew simmered below the surface. He knew how good things were when the longing exploded, but it was equally good to experience the gentle side of Zack.

  Wanting to tease, he dipped his tongue out and ran it along the seam of Zack’s lips. He did it again until Zack relented and opened his mouth. Fingers tightened in his hair. Nolan’s cock hardened as he rubbed against Zack’s. Memories of their all too brief previous kiss roared back, sending his arousal through the roof.

  Mutual pants, gasps, and the sound of the canvas creaking beneath their f
eet filled Nolan’s ears. Zack was warm as Nolan moved his fingers beneath his suit jacket to run along the folds of his dress shirt. He wanted this man like he hadn’t wanted anyone in years. It was wrong and amazing and all the things Nolan didn’t think he’d ever experience again.

  Zack slid one of his hands from Nolan’s head down to his back and moved him even closer. The move was enough that it forced Nolan to put his bad leg at an awkward angle.

  The breath he sucked in at the bolt of pain was unexpected, and Zack immediately pulled back. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Keep kissing.”

  “That wasn’t fine. What happened?”

  No, no, no, he didn’t want to get into this. “My leg. It’s fine. Keep kissing.”

  When Zack stepped away completely, Nolan groaned his displeasure. “You’ve mentioned your leg before.”

  “I have.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I was in a car accident. A pretty major one. I’m lucky to be alive, and I’m just fine dealing with a bad leg.” He hadn’t been naked with another man since he’d been injured, and hadn’t a clue how someone would react to seeing the mangled white skin. He wasn’t exactly freaked out about it, but he wasn’t in a rush to be judged harshly either.

  Not that he thought Zack would.

  If they ever got to that point.

  “Can we go back to the kissing?” He batted his eyes for good measure. “I liked the kissing.”

  The second Zack frowned, Nolan knew the moment had passed. Zack dropped his hands. “I better get you home. I’m sure your sister is back and wondering where you are.”

  Nolan gathered this wasn’t going to be an I better get you home so I can get you naked thing. “Probably. Don’t want to be tired and piss my boss off tomorrow.”

  Zack snorted and moved to hold the ropes up for Nolan to leave the ring. “I hear you work for a real jerk.”

  “He can be when he’s stubborn. I know how to settle him down though.” Nolan slid beneath the ropes, but not carefully enough. The moment his feet hit the floor, he realized that something had fallen onto his jacket. Expecting to see dust, a startled shout exploded from him when he looked down and saw a spider. “Fucking hell!”