I spin around, glaring at him. “Get away from me. You stink.”
His grin only widens. “Maybe you can shower with me later…”
Pushing past him, I march straight up to Silas. “I feel like sparring.”
Silas nods. “Okay. Let’s do a warm up and we can jump into the ring.”
“No. I want to spar withhim,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at Happy, narrowing my eyes at the sight of his smug, knowing smirk.
CHAPTER 6
HAPPY
Hannah stands across the ring from me, light on her feet, gloved hands held up in defense, a murderous look in her blue eyes. She thinks she looks tough, but she’s fucking adorable—cheeks smushed together in her headgear, a mouthguard protecting her teeth that, when she sneers at me, saysbite me. But regardless of how cute she looks, I try my hardest to take this seriously because I can tell she’s got some aggression to take out.
Coming at me, Hannah swings, but I dodge it, jabbing lightly and getting her in her chin when she drops her guard. She growls under her breath, swiping at her nose with her glove and sniffing once. She’s trying so damn hard to look badass, but again, she’s just too cute to pull it off.
Silas tries to coach her, giving her pointers and telling her what to do, when to bob, when to cross, when to block, but she’s not listening to him. She’s so hell bent on landing one on me that I doubt she can even hear him through her own internalized rage.
I give her another little jab, connecting with her cheek, and again she growls, swinging her right fist up with a punch that has far too much power behind it to be considered sparring, but Iallow it. She misses again, and I’m forced to bite back my laughter because she’s getting pissed now. When I throw another left jab, she bobs and weaves this time, and I wink at her. “Atta girl.”
“Go for the body!” Silas yells from over the ropes.
Finally doing as she’s told, Hannah jabs, landing a punch in the center of my gut and knocking the wind out of me for a few seconds. I stagger back, falling onto the ropes, and she advances, laying into me with body shot after body shot. It doesn’t hurt—I’m wearing a belt—but what a dirty little cheat.
Wrapping my arms around her, we’re clinched together, and I turn her with ease, pressing her into the ropes, which is a bad move since our bodies, slick with sweat, are pressed up against one another and there’s a lot of gyrating and heavy breathing.
“Ew, are youhard?” Hannah shrieks, pushing me off her with a grunt.
I stumble back with a chuckle, looking down at the serious tent pitched in my shorts. But in my defense, the big guy has a mind of his own.
“Sorry,” I say, entirely unapologetically, offering a casual shrug as I try to adjust myself through my shorts, which is not easy when wearing boxing gloves.
“You’re disgusting,” Hannah huffs, spinning around and climbing under the ropes before making a beeline for the cool-down mats. She glares at me in the mirrored wall as she removes her gear, lowering onto a mat, and I glance sideways at Silas to see him trying not to laugh, avoiding my eyes and holding a hand to his mouth to conceal his smile.
“De-glove me.” I hold my fists out to him and he shakes his head to himself, unfastening my gloves.
I climb down from the ring and strut across the gym floor, stopping at the mat next to Hannah and starting to stretch my quads. But as she gets into a downward facing dog, just to torture me I’m sure, my jaw falls slack when her perfectly roundass, the one I spanked last night, points directly at me, causing my dick to twitch again.
“What days do you usually train here?”
I blink, snapping myself from the revery her ass has me trapped in, realizing she just asked me a question. “Um… m-most days,” I stammer like a fool.
Hannah turns her head, looking up at me, one brow quirked.
I shrug a shoulder, forcing myself to look away from her and her taunting ass as I stretch my traps. “I’m not really a fighter. In fact, I hate fighting. I mean, I know it’s a big part of hockey, but I try to stay out of it, you know? And when I do get involved, I’m normally just running my mouth off while secretly hoping Mason or Loges or Alex Henry is there to back me up.” I offer a self-deprecating laugh at myself because, despite being a D-man, fighting is definitely not my strong suit. “I only train here because my mom and stepdad, Lewis, own the place. He’s a retired heavy weight world champ, so he taught me a thing or two when I was growing up.”
Hannah releases her pose and pushes up, turning to me, her hands on her hips. “I don’t care.”
“Wow, okay. Rude.” I snap my mouth shut, fighting a smile because she can act all she wants, but I can tell by the flush of her skin and the way she’s trying so fucking hard not to allow her eyes to trail down over my body that she’s not quite as indifferent as she’s making herself out to be.
She lifts her chin a little higher in a show of steely determination that doesn’t fool me for one second. “I just want to know when you’ll be here so I can avoid the place.”
“Aw, Baby Draper,” I coo, taking a step closer and closing the distance between us. “You don’t wanna tussle with me?” I lift a brow teasingly, while purposely dragging a hand down over my chest and my abs.
Hannah’s eyes drop, following the path of my palm as it skates down to the low-slung waist of my shorts, and I watch as her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, unable to conceal myshit-eating chuckle which, of course, forces her eyes back up, her gaze turning deathly.
“God, I should’ve gone with my gut and skipped today,” she mutters to herself, spinning around and storming off.
