“Oh, he’s a big shot CEO,” she says loudly. “Don’t worry, you can beat him up later.”
I glance around self-consciously and notice three of the other men watching me.
“You rich?” McGregor asks, turning to me.
“Filthy,” I throw back, and McGregor chuckles, then looks over to the other end of the room. “Hey, Marlo! Come schmooze this dude! He’s loaded.”
I watch as a guy at the back, covered with tattoos, rises from where he’s been lifting an enormous dumbbell and heads towards the ring.
Oh hell.
I turn to watch the fight, nervous for Jax for all of ten seconds, until it begins, and she smacks McGregor so hard in the face I’m surprised he doesn’t hit the floor.
Marlo climbs into the ring, shouting pointers at them as they circle one another. Jax is quick, spry, and much faster than her opponent, and she packs a hard punch.
I wince every time she gets hit, but I can tell it’s more training than real competition. She gets in some solid blows,taking McGregor by surprise a few times, and I’m completely mesmerized by how fast she is.
After a few minutes, Marlo saunters around the edge of the ring and extends a hand.
“Marlo Romero, head of the club,” he says. “You joining?”
“More like visiting,” I reply.
“You interested in this kind of thing?” he asks. Anyone else might assume he means boxing, but this guy has the air of a businessman about him. His gaze is very direct, uncompromising, and sharp. I like him immediately.
“I work in nightclubs, mainly,” I say.
He nods. “Well, let me show you around while our girl is havin’ her fun. If you do decide to join, we always love new members. And if you like the place, I’m always looking for new investors too. I think I recognize you.”
I extend my hand again. “I’m Gray Jones.”
He shakes my hand again, his eyes shining with renewed interest.
“Take your hoodie off, there ain’t no way you’re not gettin’ a workout in. You’re tiny.”
I snort behind his back, but it isn’t untrue. Compared to the muscle around me, I’m much leaner than everyone else here.
Reluctantly, I walk away from Jax, shucking off my hoodie as Marlo takes it upon himself to become my personal trainer for the next hour.
By the end of Jax’s twenty-minute fight, I’m sweating so much I feel like I’m going to die. By the end of an hour, I’m so exhausted I could melt into a puddle on the floor. I’m also in awe of Jax and this community.
Marlo is monosyllabic, quiet, and thoughtful, but he knows every gym member by name. Jax knowseverybody,and it doesn’t escape my notice that a lot of the guys give her a once-over as she walks past. I don’t blame them. She looks fuckingincredible, slicked with sweat, toned arms on display, but if I weren’t dead on my feet, I’d try to fight all of them at once.
She comes over to me, squirting some water into her mouth and grinning down at me. I have been lying on a bench for ten minutes and feel as if my arms are about to fall off.
“Did it work?” she asks.
“What?”
“Did it make you forget about your problems for a bit?”
“I’m dead.”
“See? Told you you’d feel better. Nice abs by the way,” she says, as she offers me a hand. “Shower?”
“Yes, please.”
“You can go back to your apartment if you want. Compared to your place, the showers here are shit.”
