By Degrees (16 page)

I easily push him off me and watch as he rolls into the fetal position around his nuts.
 
The relief washes over me like a giant ocean wave.
 
My pulse begins to return to normal immediately.
 
The threat has been removed.

The hoots turn to laughs and then shouts.
 
“Damn, girl!
 
You ain’t gotta do that!”

“Next time just kiss him and get it over with!” yells someone else.

Ricky and Scott walk up to greet me as I flip over the ropes and land on my feet next to the ring.

“That was coooold-blooded,” says Ricky, holding up his hand for a high five.
 
“Respect, girl.
 
Respect.”

I smack his palm with mine and smile.
 
“I don’t play for anything but keeps.”

“Remind me not to mess with you
ever
,” he says, cupping his jewels with one hand.
 
“I plan to have lots of kids in the future.”

I smile.
 
“Just don’t try to wrestle me to the ground, and we’ll be just fine.
 
I don’t do wrestling.”

Scott puts his hand on my shoulder.
 
“Well, sis, you’ve done it again.
 
Brought a man to his knees and made him see the error of his ways.
 
What’s next? Chest waxing?”

“Yeah,” I say, knocking his arm off me.
 
“And you’re going first.”

Scott rubs his chest nervously.
 
“Do you mean it?
 
I only have like five hairs there and I’m kind of attached to them.”

I punch him lightly in the arm.
 
“Shut up and get this stuff off me, would ya?”
 
I hold out my still-gloved hand at him and wait for him to oblige me.

He smiles.
 
“Do you have any idea how much I love the first day in the gym with these guys?”

I grin back.
 
“About half as much as I do?”

He laughs.
 
“Yeah, maybe.”

Once I’m out of my fight gear and my hair is back in a somewhat decent ponytail, I turn to look at my latest victim.
 
Tarin falls out of the ring and lands on the ground, letting Ricky get him to his feet.
 
He walks with a limp over in my direction.
 
I can’t tell if he’s angry by his expression.
 
Even with his pads off now, he’s wearing a mask.

Charlie joins us.
 
“Well, that was educational.”
 
He slaps Tarin on the back so hard it makes him hunch over and cringe.
 
“See you in a couple days?”

Tarin stands up and looks at me sharply, something akin to fear in his eyes.

I smile.
 
“Absolutely.”
 
I give Tarin my best challenging look.
 
“You in, Tarin?”

Tarin’s eyes narrow and then he smiles too.
 
“Oh, I am
so
in.
 
You have no idea.”

“That’s my boy,” says Charlie, smacking him one more time before ambling off to yell at someone not using the punching bag properly.

Tarin lifts his chin at me and then winks once before walking over to the water fountain.
 
As I watch him walk away, the thrill that runs through me tells me that I really don’t have any idea what’s happening here, but I want to find out.
 
My better judgment has definitely abandoned me.

Chapter Fourteen

I LEAVE TARIN TO SHOWER while I discuss the menu for the week with the cook I’ve hired to do all of Tarin’s meals for the next month.
 
I met Josh when he was working at one of my favorite restaurants. When he went into freelancing, I hired him immediately, and since then, we’ve done several gigs together.
 
He’s always a part of my contract because no one can cook a healthy, interesting meal like Josh can, and he does it over and over again.
 
I don’t think I’ve ever eaten the same thing twice with him in the kitchen.
 
Good food tends to ease the pain of my workouts and demands, and I am not too proud to manipulate a man through his stomach.

He’s wearing his cooking uniform: black and white checkered pants and a white t-shirt, the entire thing covered in a white jacket.
 
He’s always formal in the kitchen, even when he’s just working for my clients in their homes.

“So nothing special, is that it then?
 
Just the usual?” Josh asks.

“You can ask him if he has anything he prefers, but you know the routine. Heavy protein, high glycemic carbs, no refined sugars, light on the gluten.”

“Yum-
eee
. Sounds like I’ll be eating chicken and cardboard,” says Tarin, walking into the kitchen.
 
His hair is wet and hanging down around his face, his board shorts, t-shirt, and flip flops making him look like a surfer.
 
The tattoos that run up both arms only heighten the effect.
 
My heart flips when a vision of him in the shower jumps unbidden into my head.

I stand there with my eyes bugging out, trying to get myself together as Josh introduces himself.

“Love your stuff, man.”
 
Josh holds out his hand.

“Thanks.”
 
Tarin shakes Josh’s hand and looks down at the two plates on the counter that contain our pre-lunch snack.
 
He doesn’t seem very excited. “What’s that?”

I clear my throat, my voice finally ready to work again.
 
“That’s your snack before lunch.”

“Good.
 
Because if you said that was my lunch, I was going to have to call Charlie and tattle on you.”
 
One side of his mouth goes up in a smile.
 
“Meat and potatoes.
 
Charlie says.”

I smirk, glad he feels that what Charlie wants, Charlie should get.
 
Maybe next time we’re in the ring together he’ll throw a few real punches and give me a decent workout.
 
“Come on. Let’s go eat by the pool.”
 
Picking up the plates, I nod at Josh.
 
“Thanks.
 
We good for the rest of the week?”

“Yeah.
 
Just try to give me some advance notice on numbers if you can.”

“That’s easy, I can do that now.
 
We’ll have seven for dinners, six for the rest of the meals.”

“You want me to plate-up the rest of them now?”

I nod. “Yeah. Keep it with Tarin and me for the snacks, everyone together for the meals.”

“Gotcha.”
 
Josh goes to the stack of dishes on the counter and pulls four of them out so he can put the food on them.

Tarin frowns but says nothing until we’re outside sitting at a poolside table that has already been set for two with silverware, glasses, and an iced down pitcher of lemon-flavored water.

“Who are the seven coming for dinner?” Tarin asks as he takes his seat.

“You, me, Scott, Ricky, Zach, Leonard, and Jelly.
 
She’ll be here for dinner but that’s it.
 
The rest of us will eat together for main meals, and you and I will be alone together for snacks.
 
It gives us time to talk about what’s going on and the plans for the day or week.”
 
I don’t tell him this, but it’s also the time for him to talk about his emotional issues and other things getting in the way of his success.
 
He’s not ready for that yet.
 
He needs to trust me first before I broach the subject of unloading his deepest regrets on me.

Tarin pulls his napkin out and drops it into his lap.
 
“Jelly.”
 
He shakes his head.

I swallow the lump in my throat.
 
I don’t know why I have such a visceral reaction to her name, but it’s there.
 
I can’t deny it.
 
I just keep my mouth shut to make sure I don’t say something I’ll wish I hadn’t later.

“What the hell was I thinking?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”
 
I can come up with all kinds of things he could be referencing. Picking her up in the first place … dating her … sleeping with her … impregnating her.
 
I don’t know how deep his regret goes, I only know how deep my regret goes for him: profoundly so.

“I don’t know,” he says, running his hands through his wet hair, making it stick to the sides of his head.
 
The top part flops over onto his forehead.
 
No matter what his hair does, it never detracts from his amazing good looks.

He looks sexy.
 
Lost.
 
Tragic, but on the edge of greatness again.
 
I want to take a picture of him just like this and save it in my head forever.
 
An energy hums out from him that inspires me to do whatever I need to so he can be all he is again.
 
I have to restrain myself from grabbing his hand and pledging my undying support.
 
Holy groupie alert.
 
I take a deep breath to calm myself.
 
I’ve never felt this way around anyone in my life.
 
Not even Austin.

“Never mind.”
 
He picks up his fork and pokes at the food on his plate.
 
“What is this stuff, anyway?”

“Tuna.” I clear my throat because my voice is coming out strange. “Lentils.
 
Cucumber salad.
 
Try it.
 
I promise, you’ll like it.”

“I’m not a fan of any of the things you just said.”
 
Tarin pokes his food some more.
 
“Fucking rabbit food.”

I take a bite of the crunchy vegetables.
 
“Rabbits don’t eat tuna, dumbass.
 
Come on, have I steered you wrong yet?”

He looks up at me, mild shock on his face.
 
“Did you just call me a dumbass?”
 
He laughs a little.
 
“You’re kidding right? Steer me wrong? Call me crazy, but even though I just met you, in the last few hours you’ve turned my entire life upside down, fired a bunch of my people, punched the shit out of me in a boxing ring, racked my balls, and turned my kitchen into a … what did Charlie call it … a La Jolla foo-foo restaurant.”

“Froo-froo, not foo-foo.
 
But
have I steered you wrong
, is the question.” My eyes are sparkling with happiness. Everything he just said makes me so psyched about my progress. I really have accomplished a lot in just short time.

“To be honest, I’m not sure yet.”

“Try the tuna.
 
Decide after you eat.”

Tarin slides the smallest morsel of food onto the fork that a human tongue is capable of tasting and puts it in his mouth.
 
He hesitates a few seconds as the flavors register in his brain, and then the fork goes down to scoop up a healthier portion.
 
He’s nodding his head as he puts that one into his mouth too. There’s nothing like fresh tuna the way Josh prepares it. I’ve never been able to go back to the canned stuff since.

“Not bad,” he finally admits.

“Try the lentils.”

He pokes his fork at the brownish green beads.
 
“Those things?”

“Yeah.”
 
I eat a big bite of mine.
 
Josh is a master at taking a thing I’d destroy in the kitchen and making it magical.

“Rabbit turds,” he says quietly.
 
But he bravely tries more of the food and soon enough is shoveling it in without stopping.

We eat in silence for a little while and I try not to stare at his arms as they move around, picking up utensils, taking his glass and moving it to his mouth, the way his throat moves as he swallows.

I jump slightly, startled when he suddenly turns to me and speaks.
 
I’m afraid he’s caught me checking him out.

“So, how do you know Charlie so well?” he asks between mouthfuls.

I’m relieved to know the question wasn’t
‘So how long have you been a stalker?’

“He and my dad were good friends.
 
Since they were kids.”
 
This is safer ground than where my mind was headed.
 
It’s not exactly my favorite topic of conversation, but it’s definitely safer.

“You’re from around there?”

I nod as I wipe my mouth with my napkin.
 
“Yep.
 
Born and raised.”

“You’re just Scarlett from the block.”
 
Tarin starts doing a riff on the Jennifer Lopez song
Jenny From the Block.
 
I can’t help but smile at how he takes a song
so
not in his genre and turns it around into something that sounds like a cross between rap and rock. He puts my name in for Jenny.
 
For a few lines it makes me smile, but then when he grabs a knife and uses it as his microphone, staring at me while he raps, it reminds me too much of Austin.
 
The smile drops off my face as a cool breeze blows through my world and cuts off the joy.

Tarin’s song ends prematurely and he puts the knife on the table.
 
“That bad, huh?”

I shake my head, reaching out to touch him but then pulling back before I make contact with his skin.
 
“No, it’s not that.
 
I like the song.”

I put my napkin on the table and stand, the awkward moment too much for me to deal with.
 
“Ready for your next workout?”

He takes me by the hand and pulls me a little, keeping me from leaving the table.
 
Where his fingers are touching mine I feel a tingling.
 
I almost can’t breathe.

“Wait.
 
Don’t go,” he says.
 
“Sit.
 
I just need to relax for a few more minutes. You kicked my ass in the ring.”
 
His fingers slide away and I’m suddenly without his touch.
 
I miss it already.