Chapter 9: Mick

Chapter Nine

MICK

I f championship belts were given for self-control, I would deserve the world title. While Josie is asleep, my erection is raging, but I’m keeping my hands locked behind my head. Despite the discomfort, I wouldn’t move if Pedro was at the bottom of my bed telling me that I’d never step inside a gym again.

Josie is not the vulnerable type. She wears a pretty hard armor and pretends like nothing can hurt her. I guess it’s because she’s been left to take care of herself and her dad for years with little money and no other support. She’s had to be tough or she would have been eaten up. Plus, there were the years she spent online battling other people—mostly guys who never had anything good to say about female gamers. You couldn’t be sensitive and survive in that environment.

Seeing her soft like this is a privilege very few ever get. I’ve gotten glimpses in the past, like at the end of a long night of gaming when she was tired, both physically and mentally. Sometimes we would crash in her living room and talk about escaping. We’d make a lot of money—me in business and her in gaming. After we earned some cash, we’d move out with our loved ones. I’d buy my sister her own salon. She’d buy a place on the shore where her dad could sit on a porch and listen to the waves.

My big finance plans never went anywhere because I didn’t have the money for college, and my job prospects were bleak after getting caught stealing shit with a bunch of guys in my neighborhood. It was a boneheaded move when I was sixteen, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Then I got caught on a bogus charge after I found some designer handbag lying on the sidewalk. Like of course I picked that thing up. One of the guys I was hanging out with took it to the pawn shop because like me, he was desperate. Unlike me, he had a longer rap sheet so I took the fall for him. If my sister hadn’t hooked up with Griff, I might be growing mold in a prison cell, but he pulled some strings and got me out. Then he told me if I didn’t straighten up, I’d end up dead or at least making my sister miserable.

He was right, so I got a job at his gym, started boxing, and now I’m here in Las Vegas because they think I could be the next boxing champ.

I close my eyes and force myself to get some rest. It’s important that I have a good training day tomorrow so that if Pedro finds out I’ve got a girl at my place, I can point to my stellar performance as proof she’s not a distraction.

When I wake up, the moon is still hanging in the sky. It’s time for a run. I slide out from underneath Josie’s body. She murmurs something and tries to keep me next to her. I want to stay, dammit, but I can’t. I pluck her fingers off and press a kiss against the fingertips. “Got to go make a living for us, Josie babe. Stay here. Wait for me.”

The five-mile run gets rid of my hard-on and clears my head some.

Coming here meant leaving Josie behind. I wanted to ask her to come with me, but her dad was in bad health. When I arrived and Pedro hit me with the no babes, no booze rules, and I found my apartment was this one-bedroom prison cell, I figured that I should train hard, win some prize money, and then move both Josie and her dad here. Or maybe I could go back to Griff’s gym and train there. Those were my thoughts.

Those were my thoughts when she was thousands of miles away, but now that she’s here, draped over my chest, I don’t think I can let her go. I don’t have the space for her and her dad, but I’ll make space. Her dad can have my room. I’ll buy a murphy bed for Josie, and I can sleep on the floor. Pedro doesn’t have to know who lives with me. Josie isn’t a random girl anyway. She’s my family. Boxers, even ones that are training for championships, are allowed to have a family.

I can even get a job at night to pay for a bigger place. It’ll work out. I head straight for the gym and spar with O.P.

“You’re bringing heat today,” Pedro cheers. “You keep this up and you’ll be ready for the undercard match.”

“Better home situation,” I say. If I start winning, Pedro can’t be mad about Josie.

Pedro’s brows come together. “You moved?”

I snort. “So you know I live in a shoebox.”

“Of course. That’s where all my guys live while they train. It helps you concentrate. With no distractions, not even a television, your mind stays focused on your body.”

My mind is on my body all right. I keep thinking about how, instead of sleeping, I could be buried balls deep in Josie.

“So what’s new with your home situation?” There’s suspicion in his voice. I really need to learn to lie better or maybe not talk at all.

“New sofa. I ordered one. For all the non-TV watching I do.”

“Hmmph. Kids and their phones these days. Can’t keep you off of those.” He waves me off. “Take another day off. I can tell your ribs still hurt. I want you ready for a practice match in two weeks.”

“Yessir.” I give him a salute. I don’t feel a twinge. “I’ll probably head home to see my sister then.”

Pedro considers this, and it’s clear from his expression that he doesn’t like the idea, but I’m a little tired of him dictating my every move. “I bought the tickets. I’ll see you in three days.”

“I said another day off.”

“I’ll see you in three.”

He glares at me, but I don’t move. After a prolonged silence, he huffs and walks away.

“Love you, too, Pedro,” I yell at his back.

He flips me off, but I can tell we’re good.

I hurry home to tell Josie the news. I’m taking her to LA.