His smile slipped for a second and he went on tiptoe to press a kiss to my cheek, but I turned and ate at his lips instead. When he dropped back down to his feet, his eyes were wide and lust-clouded and his lips were parted, almost like he’d stunned himself. I grinned and hugged him.
There was a groan from the ring, and when we looked back, the boy in pink was holding the inside of his left thigh.
“Cheap shot! Put your gloves down, Southpaw. You let Twig take a shot, no blocking.”
“Bullshit!” The kid swung around and had a mean scowl, like he would argue until he died, but Peter only pointed at him, and his shoulders slumped.
“Fine, don’t listen to me. I’m not coming back here next week to tell you how to stop sucking.”
Southpaw grumbled and held his gloves up at his sides, and the boy in pink approached him, looking terrified.
“You better move back fast, Twiggy. He’s going to belt you as hard as he can as soon as you connect.”
Twig nodded and took a shot at Southpaw’s stomach, and then yelped as he scrambled away and Southpaw chased after him. The gloves were tossed, and it became a free-for-all that had Peter snorting and laughing as he unhooked his arms from the ropes. He looked over his shoulder at the floor like he wanted to jump down from his perch, but he carefully sat instead, and then set his feet on the floor. As he stood, he shrugged, and I hopped down to join him.
“Kids.”
“Yeah.”
The boys hit the floor and were wrestling now, in a haphazard way, and Peter rolled his eyes, but I hadn’t missed that promise of his to the kids to come back again. No matter that he would have been with me because we’d stopped after my classes and he hated being alone, but he didn’t have to volunteer to help. I hugged him and dropped a kiss on his forehead, taking a deep whiff of his musk and the sharp tang of his deodorant after his workout.
“That was nice of you.”
He shook me off and swatted at me, and I watched him walk ahead, staring at his ass in those shorts. I had no idea why I was close to drooling; I always found him attractive, but Peter in workout gear had me on fire. The clingy material showed him off a lot better than the other clothes he’d been wearing, almost like now that he was more confident in one area—walking and moving around—he was getting braver in the others. He glanced over his shoulder, caught me staring, and smirked. My gut heated.
“I’m beat after the doctor’s appointment this afternoon,” he slowed down to mumble. “We going home or what?”
“I’m proud of you for scheduling the surgery. I know you’re scared.”
His face went red and he glanced away with his jaw clenching. “Well, they tell you if they fuck something up, you might not be able to walk again. Who wouldn’t be worried about that?”
“True. You know I’d be here if it happened, right? I wouldn’t go anywhere. If you were stuck in a chair forever, I would just move so we could be together and you could get around easier.”
He rolled his eyes and stared petulantly at me, just like one of those teenagers in the ring. “I know. You’ve said it about a hundred different times. Lay off.”
“But do you believe it?”
He let out a long breath. “Yes, that’s why I went through with the scheduling, so can we drop it?” He waved a hand at me and stared at the tips of his running shoes.
“Yep.”
“Good. I mean, they keep telling me most of my pain will be gone after the surgery, so I want to.” He turned and grabbed my hand. I’d been worried he would go quiet on me again, the way he had early on in our relationship when he was worried, but this was the same thing he’d done at the doctor’s office. He’d held on to me for dear life. I squeezed his hand back, more than happy to be here for him.
“And you have an appointment with that therapist Brandon found for you, next Monday. We’re not forgetting that, either.”
“Yeah,” he said roughly.
While I was stirring him up, I might as well go all the way with it. “Are you going to talk to him about Black? And how you feel about him getting moved to maximum before his trial? About the fact that you’re scared when we’re in New Gothenburg? Will you please talk to this man? You haven’t said a word about any of it since the day we read the article in the newspaper. I would have thought you’d be happy that asshole probably won’t ever see the light of day again.”
Peter inhaled deeply, and I wondered if maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, but when he glanced up at me, he didn’t seem angry… exactly. “Yes, I’ll talk to this head shrink, but can we not do this?” There was a mean edge to his tone. I was getting close to stepping over the point where he would play nice. We didn’t often butt heads, but I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t talking to me, he was at least talking to someone.
I tugged him closer and stopped him from winding up further by laying a kiss on his lips. He sighed against me and nestled closer. When I straightened, I smiled down at him. He was such a handsome fucker, and he really didn’t seem to know it. He was full of himself, although not in the way that made me think he’d caught on to the number of looks he received when we were out together. Hell, Southpaw stood leaning against the corner of the ring, watching us while he chugged water, either not giving a fuck or not noticing that I saw him scoping out my boyfriend’s ass in those shorts. I slipped my hand down his back to give Peter’s left cheek a quick squeeze that got me a gasp, and the kid glanced up. He turned around so fast I nearly laughed out loud.
“I’m proud of you,” I said, staring down at Peter. He seemed to have caught on to what I’d done and widened his eyes at me.
“Don’tdo this,” he said quietly, but without much heat.
“I am. And I’m proud of you for still going to the NA meetings.”
