He walks onto my lawn, his gym bag thrown over one shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks getting closer.
Sucking in a breath I give a tight lipped smile.
“Oh, today? Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal,” I play off, but my lip is definitely swollen.
He raises a brow calling my bluff.
“Debs is a shit trainer you know? You should probably find someone else.” He looks off into the distance, his blond hair blowing with the wind.
I scoff. “I can’t afford another trainer, and Debs is free. The only reason I’m even with her is because you broke the bet between me and Thomas,” I remind him of his tantrum.
“Maybe, but if Thomas didn’t want to train you he would have just wasted your time. I’ve seen him do it before,” Camden explains. “He does it to Chase.”
I roll my eyes, picking at what is left of the stupid pink nail polish on my nails.
Chase is an odd one, he’s cute but has a temper. I’ve heard him randomly cussing, and thumping on his chest like he thinks he’s God. It’s not attractive, and to be honest he’s kind of scary.
Camden bites his lip as he looks down at me. His hand wringing the strap on his bag.
“Let me train you,” he says it so quietly I barely hear him.
My eyes flick to his, surely I heard him wrong.
“What?”
“You heard me, let me train you.” He drops his bag and sits next to me, his knee bumping into mine shoots sparks from the contact down to my toes.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I shake my head in protest, my toe tapping nervously on the step.
“Why?” he shrugs.
I laugh. “Because, it’s not.” There are so many reasons why it’s not a good idea.
I’d never be able to focus in the ring with Camden. Besides, there’s a big enough fight between him and I out of the ring to last us a lifetime.
“The way I see it is, your stubborn ass ain’t going anywhere anytime soon, and I can’t stand to see you doing everything wrong everyday in the gym.” He hits me with an arrogant look.
Wrapping my arms around my legs I grumble, “I’m not doing
everything
wrong,” and huff.
“You are,” he scoffs and I roll my eyes. This man is infuriating. Gritting my teeth, I look away.
Silence falls between us as we look anywhere but at each other. I close my eyes, knowing damn well why I can’t have him train me. I’ll want more, much more. Having Camden touch me on a daily basis only on a professional level will drive my body to the edge of torture. To have him be so close to me and smell the sweat dripping from his hard chest and not be able to run my nails across it, will take more self-discipline than I have.
“Think about it?” He stands, his clenched ass right in my line of sight. He leans down and grabs his bag, tossing it over his shoulder.
He doesn’t even give me a chance to reply before walking off.
Camden
I can’t believe I just asked to be her coach.
What the fuck was I thinking?
When Tate left years ago I built an internal wall, protecting myself from being hurt ever again. It’s worked well for me the last four years. The barrier was stronger than the Great Wall of China. But then Tate fucking Davis struts back in town and that wall falls, brick by brick until there is nothing but dust and my soul bare for her to rip from my chest all over again. Maybe that wall was never really strong to begin with, and maybe I wasn’t over her like I thought I was.
Seeing her in the ring with Chase undid my sense of rationality. I didn’t care about what I wanted. All I care about is protecting her.
Like old times.
I swore if ever saw Tate again I’d make her hurt like she hurt me.
It’s just hurting me watching me be an ass to her though. I guess that is one thing I didn’t inherit from my father. I can’t treat the woman I care about like shit.
Pulling my shirt over my head my eyes sweep over the room for a new one. Something catches my eye from out the window, and I find Tate undressing. I do a double take, and watch her pull her shirt off. Her lime green and pink sports bra and tight stomach revealing themselves.
Swallowing hard, I look down at the floor, knowing it’s wrong to watch her.
I look back not being able to resist the temptation, and find her pulling down her shorts. Her black panties not doing much to cover her toned ass. Fuck I miss her.
I grab at my growing dick, it wants so bad to be reunited with Tate Davis too.
Her eyes flick to mine and I freeze. My heart skipping a beat that she caught me. My chest constricts at the thought I’m a peeping fucking tom.
Quickly I grab a shirt, any shirt from the floor and step away from the window.
Chapter Seventeen
Tate
I run two miles before the sun even rises. The whole time my feet plow into the asphalt I think about Camden training me.
We will be so close in the ring. His body next to mine, the smell of him lingering on me for hours afterwards.
I close my eyes turning onto my block. My mind battling with the pros and cons, but the only thing I can solely focus on is I’m going to be with Camden in a ring. Like old times.
He may not want to be with me, and that hurts on a whole other level. But this is the best move for my career. If anyone knows what it’s like in the ring… it’s Camden Steel.
***
Stepping into the gym I find Camden by the ring taping his hands. It’s just us at his early hour.
His eyes rake me up and down and butterflies swarm in my stomach. I know he was watching me undress yesterday. I can’t deny that I liked it. Though I wish I knew so I could have been a little sexier about it. My shirt got caught in my hair, and my shorts stuck to my sweaty thighs.
My childhood feelings set aside, no woman could blame me for being head over heels for Camden. If they saw him, they’d be just as dick whipped as I am. Camden is ruggedly beautiful. He’s rough around the edges with a hint of pretty boy laced within the depths. His gorgeous blue eyes and sharp jaw hit you first. Then his thick blond hair and slightly crooked nose. And don’t get me started on his hands, they’re so manly you’d want to have him grab you under the thighs and manhandle you every day of the week.
Heading to the locker room he reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me. I look down at this hand. My breath picking up at the simple skin contact.
“You give anymore thought to me training you?” he asks, dropping his hand. Instantly my skin cools, and I want the warmth of his hand back.
Swallowing, I nod.
“I have. What will Debs think if I have you train me?”
He shrugs. “I don’t really care.”
Popping my hip out I roll my eyes. Typical man.
“Look, how about you let me teach you some things, and Debs can arrange the fights and shit. I don’t have those kind of contacts like she does, but I know more about being in the ring than her.” He rests his arms on the side of the ring. His hair is slicked back today, showing his face off perfectly.
“Why do you want to train me so bad?”
He rubs the back of his neck in deep thought.
“To be honest, I haven’t been very excited about training or fighting in a long time. Not until the thought of helping you in the ring came to mind.” He glances back at me and smiles but his eyes don’t shine like I’m used to seeing. They look darker. “It’s all I’ve thought about since- helping you that is.”
He really doesn’t want to fight anymore does he? My heart skips a beat at the thought, and I want to ask him what happened while I was away. I know it’d be pushing it though. We just got on talking terms, and I don’t want to push him away.
“Here I was thinking you just wanted to cum on my new yoga pants.” I tug on the fabric of my pants, trying to lighten the mood.
His lips curve into a smirk as he pins me with passionate eyes, his look of torment fading.
“That was all you that night.” My cheeks flush, and I look away. I just walked myself into that one didn’t I? I’m still not convinced he didn’t come too.
“Alright, we’ll give you training me a shot.” I bite at my bottom lip nervously, my palms coating with sweat that this is really happening.
***
I tape my hands up, and of course they look like crap compared to when someone else does it, but it’ll get the job done. I sit on the bench, nervous.
Why am I nervous?
I used to wrestle around with Camden all the time as kids. Rubbing my temples I know why I’m nervous. I won’t be able to focus on a word he’s saying, all I want is for his lips to take my breath away, or his hands to skim my breasts. For him to make me laugh, and for us to just be… us. I’d do anything to be the friend I once was with him.
This is going to take all the willpower I have to be professional.
After a short pep talk of keeping my focus on training and not on childhood crushes, or Camden’s immaculate chest, I leave the locker room. My heart is beating a mile a minute, the tune so loud it could be my walk out song before a fight.
Entering the ring, Camden is sitting down stretching. The muscles in his back bulging and flexing as he strains them. I close my eyes, trying to get my shit together.
“You stretch?” he asks.
Popping my eyes open, I freeze.
Crap, my mind was so busy I didn’t even think about stretching myself.
“No, I forgot,” I reply as my cheeks blush.
Rookie move, Tate. Rookie move.
“First thing, always stretch. You don’t want to lose a fight based on you pulling a ligament,” he schools. I mask a smile and nod, but I already know everything he’s telling me.
Taking a steady breath, I sit down on the ring floor. “Touch your feet to mine,” he instructs.
Following his instructions, I touch my bare feet to his. They’re much bigger, and surprisingly soft. I reach for my toes and he leans forward, grabbing my hands, stretching us out.
The feel of his powerful hands gripping mine reminds me of how he picked me up so effortlessly and slammed me against the wall in his room. They’re so domineering, so capable of destruction, it’s hard not thinking about them all over you.
“Does it feel good?” Camden’s voice vibrates through my body and my eyes flick to his. His hooded eyes convey he’s playing with me.
I clear my throat and let go of his hands. Noticing mine are sweaty, I wipe them off on my shorts.
“What is in store for me from the famous Camden Steel?” I joke, my heart beating like a thunderstorm.
“Well for starters I want to see what moves you know, and see how well you can grapple. We need to work on that endurance of yours too,” he states.
“I don’t know many moves. Just what I knew from when we were kids and of course the famous YouTube,” I confess, rolling my wrists to flex the muscles.
“You stopped everything when you moved didn’t you?” His voice goes soft, and I hate the sympathy in his tone.
“They didn’t offer much there,” I lie. They did, but what can I say, I sunk into a deep depression after I left here. Anything that reminded me of my life here in Chicago pressed me deeper in the sinking pit of darkness.
He doesn’t press any further and I’m thankful. Standing up, he bounces on the heels of his feet.
“Alright, show me what you got.”
Getting into position I pull my fists up just like he taught me the other day.
“Come on, princess,” he waves his hands, taunting me to come forward. I scowl at his insult. Princess, I’m hardly that. I jab, and he ducks quickly.
“You missed,” he chuckles. Clearly he’s grown an ego since I saw him last.
I take another swing and miss again. He turns on the balls of his feet placing him behind me. Wrapping a strong arm around my body, his chest presses into my back. The smell of Irish Spring soap overpowering my senses.
“If you want me, you have to be faster,” he whispers into the shell of my ear. His breath hot and sticky against my skin. He nips at the lobe and lets me go, circling me like a shark.
Shaking the lust from my head, I get back into stance. Focusing on the fight at hand. Angry that I am becoming so love struck so easily, I throw a quick kick, and it hits him in the chest harder than I intended it to.
“Shit, sorry!” I cover my mouth scared I hit him too hard.
“Don’t say you’re sorry Tate. Ever. Not in the ring.” He looks at me angry.
“Right, sorr—” I catch myself doing it again. Looking up I find Camden adjusting his shorts, not paying attention.
Quickly I deliver an uppercut, hitting him in the chin.
Lowering my fists I smile proud.
“How’s that for too slow?”
“Good, but you messed up.” He smirks.
My face pales, I know I did that right. “How?”
He jabs me in the cheek with this right hand, and my eyes widen with surprise. A slight sting blossoming across my face.
“You left yourself open celebrating,” he chuckles, pissing me off.