Fighting Greed

by Miller, Jennifer

  I’m lifting weights focused on the veins bulging in my arms, the burn in my muscles and the tunes in my ears when she walks up to me so I don’t see her at first. She taps my arm and when I look up and see her standing next to me in the mirror, I almost drop the weights I’m holding. Classy – that’s me. Cursing, I set them down, pull the buds from my ears and spin toward her.

  “Hey, you’re here.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  “I’m glad,” I say and smile at her and she smiles too. It takes me a minute to realize we’re merely smiling stupidly at each other.

  “So, uh, you want to work out together?” After the question leaves my mouth I almost groan at myself. Way to ask the obvious.“Um, well I usually just run on the treadmill.”

  “That’s it?” I lift my brows my eyes darting to the treadmills across the room lingering for a moment on all the runners and walkers.

  “What do you mean ‘that’s it’? A good run is great for my body and I love the way it clears my mind.”

  When she mentions her body I find myself automatically taking it in. My eyes roam from her shapely legs, curvy hips, small waist, flat stomach and ample breasts before returning to her face. I know she saw me checking her out, but I have no shame. What did she expect when she talks about her body like that? Besides, every man with half a brain has done the same thing since she walked into the room.

  “Honey pot, believe me, I’m not complaining about that body of yours at all.”

  Her brows raise, “Honey pot? That’s not happening. No.”

  Grinning I can’t keep myself from sliding a finger down her arm, “How about you work out with me?”

  She looks at the weights surrounding me, “On those?” she asks and I feel immense satisfaction when I notice the bumps standing up on her arm from my finger running down it.

  “Yeah, ‘on those’,” I mimic.

  She shifts from one foot to the other and bites her bottom lip, “I uh, don’t know how to use the machines and I’ll probably kill myself if I try lifting like that,” she says pointing at the bench press.

  “Good thing you have me then, huh cupcake?”

  “Yeah, good thing,” she still looks around uncertainly and I happen to notice she didn’t say a word about my use of ‘cupcake’.

  “Okay, I guess. But you can’t laugh at me. I have no clue what I’m doing.”

  Crossing my finger over my heart I nod, “Scout’s honor.”

  “You were a boy scout?”

  “Do I look like a nerd to you?”

  “Boy Scouts are not nerds. They learn very valuable life lessons and skills.”

  “Are you just saying that because you were a girl scout?”

  She flushes. “No. Shut up.” She moves to a machine, “How do I use this?” she asks forcing a transition in conversation. I almost laugh.

  “Let’s not start there – come on. We’ll get you some hand weights.”

  Moving to where the hand weights are located I select a pair and hand them to her pleased when I see they aren’t too heavy for her.

  “Okay, hold them down at your sides and I’ll show you some movements you can do with them.” She nods and I demonstrate with my arms an exercise for her to try.

  “Like this?” she asks and mimics me.

  “Almost,” I tell her then move behind her. “Put your feet shoulder width apart,” I speak in her ear and smile when she shudders but does what I tell her. Taking her hands in mine I raise her arms straight in front of her, “Make sure your arms are parallel to the floor with your hands facing in. Yeah, like that,” I praise when she does what I say. “Then open your arms to your sides so they’re nearly, but not quite, at a one hundred and eighty degree angle.” She does, “Good. Then lower your arms back down where you started and do it all again.”

  She does a rep with me still guiding her movements.

  “Perfect,” I tell her and watch the hair by her ear move from my breath.

  “How-” her voice sounds rough so she stops and clears her throat. “How many reps of these should I do?”

  “Do ten cycles if you can and then reverse. Start with your arms out to your sides instead of up.”

  “Got it,” she nods and begins.

  “Make sure you don’t rush it. Make your movements nice and slow,” I nod when she does just that.

  While she works through that I do a few bench presses while keeping an eye on her in the mirror. I like this. I like her being here with me and I like showing her what to do. When she finishes I show her another exercise.

  This one requires her to push her hips back and I get far too much satisfaction when she doesn’t hesitate to push her fine ass right into my crotch since I’m standing behind her. She doesn’t say a word but I hear her intake of breath when she realizes what she did. My cock responds instantly.

  Swallowing a few times and clearing my throat before speaking, my voice still sounds a bit strained, “Yes, that’s it. Feet hip-width apart and your hips pushed back just like this,” I grip her hips in my hands and feel myself thicken further.

  Taking a deep breath I try to calm myself. “Bend your knees a little and move your torso forward so it’s approaching parallel to the floor.”

  “Like this?”

  “Yes. Perfect.” And her ass is - perfect that is. But yeah, her positioning is too. “Don’t let your lower back hunch forward.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then, hold the weights down end to end, then pull them up by bending your elbows up and out to the side. You want your shoulder blades to feel like they’re pinching together in the back. Go nice and slow controlling the weights as you bring them back down to the hanging position and then up again.”

  She moves with me as I describe the motions. I like the way her skin and body feels under mine. It’s an intimate position and I’d be lying if I didn’t confess to dirty thoughts. I’d like to rip her leggings down her legs, bend her over the bench press and plunge into her from behind. I’d take a handful of her hair in my hand and pull her back to kiss the hell out of her swallowing her gasps and moans. The ache in my body from wanting her is killing me, but I do my best to ignore it.

  Suddenly I realize she was talking to me, “Uh- what?”

  “Am I doing this right?”

  “Yeah, you’re perfect. The movements are perfect. Make sure you don’t let your chest collapse in. Great. These exercises are really great for toning your arms and shoulders.”

  “Are you saying I need to tone my arms and shoulders?” Her breathing is even and she continues the exercises while she speaks.

  “Fuck no. You’re perfect the way you are. But you said you didn’t know how to lift these weights, so I’m showing you. I’m helpful like that, cupcake.”

  “So kind of you.”

  “I can tell you don’t really mean that, you know.”

  She laughs and I smile. She surprises me when she lies down on the ground right next to where I’m lifting and holds her arms out to the sides with the weights in hand and then brings her arms straight up. Another great exercise for her to do, sure, but I like what it does to her tits and my eyes fixate there for a moment.

  When she sets down the weights and seems as if she’s going to take her leave I stop her by talking again, “Next time I can show you some of these weight machines if you’d like. Toning your arms is great but you should balance that out by working on your legs too.”

  “Next time?”

  I almost laugh that out of everything I said that’s the part that interests her.

  “Yep, next time.”

  “I thought you said that your friend owns a gym and you don’t usually come here.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Well then what are you doing here?”

  Giving her a look that communicates exactly what I’m doing here, I chuckle as her cheeks redden.

  “I think we did a pretty good work out for today,” I tell her when I check out the time that’s passed. “What
do you say we go grab a smoothie? There’s that place next door… Juiced Up…”

  I trail off waiting to see what she says. I can see the hesitation and uncertainty on her face and I hold my breath like a pansy ass waiting for her reply. Who even am I?

  “Okay,” she says as she lets out a breath, “I’d like that.”

  “Great,” I smile.

  “Great,” she says and we do that awkward staring thing again.

  “I’m going to go take a quick shower, cupcake, and then I’ll meet you outside so we can walk over.”

  “Alright, me too. I’ll see you out there.”

  She smiles timidly and then walks away from me. I could walk her to the locker room, but then I wouldn’t be able to watch her walk away and that would be a shame.

  I don’t care for it when I see a few other men do the same thing, but I suppose I can’t blame them. One guy clear across the room gets my attention although I’m not sure why. He looks at her, then at me, then back at her again. I stare at him hard when he looks at me again. He looks away and throws a towel over his shoulder and looks like he’s heading toward where the basketball courts are located.

  Once in the locker room I grab a towel and head to the shower, where I hastily finish. Quickly getting dressed I move to a long counter where they have combs, brushes, razors and various products a man could need like deodorant, shaving cream, disposable razors, face wash and other shit. Seeing a hair gel I grab my own brush and do my hair how I like borrowing their hair crap.

  Removing the cap from the aftershave, I give it a sniff and decide the smell is pretty decent. Putting some on, I give myself a once over in the mirror.

  This is as good as it gets and I already know she likes it, so I stop primping like a girl and put my stuff together and leave the locker room, then the gym and look around outside. Not yet seeing her, I sit down on the bench and pull out my phone and take a look.

  I see Jax, Ryder and Dylan have all texted me. They each send varying inquiries as to where I am. Dylan tells me Jax is telling everyone he’s going to commit bodily harm against me if he finds out that I’m here. I laugh. He wishes he could take me.

  I’m surprised when Sutton walks out much faster than I thought possible for a woman to get ready. That makes me like her that much more.

  “That was fast,” I can’t help but comment.

  She shrugs, “Take it or leave it.” She gestures at herself and maybe she’s talking about the fact her hair is damp and thrown on top of her head in a bun. Maybe she’s referring to the fact that it doesn’t look like there’s a lick of makeup on her flawless face. Or it could be that she’s wearing nothing more than jeans and a t-shirt, but if she thinks I wouldn’t take her like that she’s insane. She’s perfect.

  “Oh, I plan to take it, cupcake. But how about smoothies first?”

  She narrows her eyes at me, “I didn’t promise anything other than smoothies so don’t get any ideas.”

  “Too late. Now come on.”

  Reaching out I grab her hand and pull her to Juiced Up. Her hand feels tense in mine at first but eventually she loosens up as we walk down the side of the strip mall. When we reach the shop, I hold the door open for her.

  The smell of various fruits hits our noses as soon as the door opens. Blenders mixing and conversations surround us and I’m happy to see it isn’t too busy.

  She orders something called a strawberry shaker and I choose an orange pineapple mango something or other. I should probably pass on the sugar, but I’m not even close to being too heavy for my weight class, which is good given the upcoming fight. I can afford a few calories without regret.

  We each sip from our smoothies after I pay and we take a seat. “Good?”

  She nods as her lips pull away from her straw and a small red drop of her smoothie sits on her bottom lip. I want to lean across the table and lick it off.

  “It’s really good,” she hums in happiness.

  Her eyes watch me as I take another sip of my drink and I’m surprised when she begins laughing.

  “What?”

  She shakes her head, “I’m sorry, it’s just this feels a bit surreal.”

  “Why?” I ask confused.

  “I never thought I’d see you again. I mean we kind of made sure that it would be impossible to get in touch with each other again.”

  “Impossible? Are you telling me you’ve never seen all the billboards and shit around with my sexy mug on them?”

  She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “Not until recently. I don’t usually pay attention to that stuff though.”

  “Yeah well, it’s only been recently because I have a couple big fights coming up. They’re marketing the hell out of them because of the potential money the network can make from the paid fight. Not to mention, the popularity of MMA has risen over the last few years. Can’t really say I blame them for riding the high.”

  “What do you do when you’re not fighting?”

  “I’m a real estate agent.”

  She chokes on her smoothie, “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  She gestures to me, “I can’t imagine what people think when they meet you in person to show them houses.”

  I lift a brow at her amusement. “Well the ladies love me if that’s what you’re getting at. Obviously.”

  She rolls her eyes, “Conceited much?”

  I wink, “Always, cupcake. And what about you? What have you been doing since the last time I saw you? I mean, I already scoped out the hand, no ring, so no man?”

  “An absence of a ring doesn’t necessarily mean there’s no man.”

  That makes my jaw tighten, “Is there one?”

  She hesitates and I don’t like it. “No, no man,” she says quietly and I think there must be a story there.

  “A woman?”

  She smiles, “Nope. No woman.”

  “Since you think my job doesn’t suit me, tell me, what do you do for a living?”

  “I work with troubled kids and teens.”

  Something about that makes me smile, “Well I can’t say a thing about that – it’s great. I bet it’s very rewarding.”

  “Yes, but it also has heart-breaking moments. But, I know what it’s like to be a troubled teen myself, so having someone that can relate to them helps I think.”

  “And how do you help them?”

  “I work for Forever Homes, a 501c3 that helps in many ways. We apply for grants from the state, we seek donations for support, I help organize fundraisers and benefits. An awful lot of it is red tape and paperwork but my favorite part aside from when one of the kids gets adopted is taking a shift at the Forever Homes house. It’s basically a children’s orphanage or shelter but better. It’s a large house that’s been converted to house several children and teens. There are ten homes all together; I’m assigned to one specifically. Several of us take shifts there and it’s basically like we’re all their adoptive parents in a way and that’s where they live with us. Many of them will never get adopted. So, it’s an opportunity to give them stability and to have a sense of family. And for those teens that are approaching the time when they will age out of the system, we have the privilege of helping them get a good start on independent living.”

  “I would think that has to be hard as far as potentially getting very attached to some of the children.”

  “Oh, absolutely. I feel their pain and suffering like its my own sometimes. And when they’re adopted, I’m happy for them but I feel the loss. When they aren’t adopted, I feel their pain. The tough part has been learning not to take it home with me. The amazing experiences make my job more than worth the hard times, but the bad… well… you have no idea. The things I’ve seen would keep you up at night.”

  Her eyes squeeze closed and she shakes her head and I know without a doubt she’s picturing some of those things now. A strange feeling of wishing I could protect her from such things washes over me.

  “Well, it would make even a guy like you s
hed a tear or two.”

  “A guy like me? I’m not ashamed to admit I cry.”

  “Oh yeah? When was the last time?”I pause and she grins. The longer I pause the bigger her grin. “Oh, I know. I cried when Levi made me watch-” I clear my throat, “You know what, never mind. You’re right. I never cry. Never.”

  “Oh no. No way. You can’t do that to me. I want to know.”

  “Nope.”

  “Please?” she asks and sticks her lip out and I laugh.

  “Tell you what, I’ll answer you if you answer something for me?”

  Her eyes narrow and her lips purse, “What is it?”

  “Did you ever think about me? You know… after.”

  She looks away and then down at her hands. I watch her intently. Just when I’m not sure she’s going to answer her eyes meet mine and she says softly, “Yes. Yes, I thought about you. Often. You have no idea.”

  I feel the curve of my lips, the heat in my eyes; I lean across the small table. She’s already leaning forward and the distance from my mouth to hers is almost non-existent. I’m already thinking about the way her lips will feel pressed up against mine when she blurts, “I have a son.”

  I freeze; my eyes shooting to hers to find hers are wide as if she can’t believe what she just said.

  “A son?”

  “Yes,” she exhales and looks to the side. She twists her fingers together and I watch them turn white from blood loss. I automatically place my hand over hers in a calming gesture.

  “I’m not sure why I blurted it out like that,” her voice shakes and it makes me frown.

  “Okay…”

  “Look, it’s just that, I don’t know what you’re hoping will happen here, but I see how you’re being. You’ve got that whole sexed up vibe thing going on,” she gestures at me with her hand.

  I choke on a laugh, “Do I now?”

  She rolls her eyes at me again. If I get my way if she dares to do that in the future I’ll be doling out a bit of punishment starting with a spank on her bare ass while she’s bent over… well… anything.

  “You know you do. And the thing is, I can’t just get together whenever you want and hook up whenever you want or whatever it is you have in mind here. I have a responsibility to him and he comes first.”